Before

There are so many mistakes to be made in life, and he made them all. Every ounce of respect he held for her seemed to disappear beneath the confusion of his mind. He loved her and cherished her more than his own breath, but he failed and failed and failed to show it. To remember it when it counted. He toyed with her, played immature games, and didn’t show her his truth. This truth that he had hidden away, locked away tightly and guarded by his upbringing, by the fact that he couldn’t remember the number of times he was hugged and cherished as a child. He wasn’t trying to make excuses, he was only used to doing so. He always blamed everyone else, never took credit for what he did or said. It was easier that way.

But eventually, he learned his lesson.

Dare.” I roll my eyes at the childish game. Like anyone thought I would choose otherwise.

I stare at Tessa, watching Mother Theresa fumble at the challenge of coming up with a good dare. “I… hmm. I dare you to…” She comes up short. Everyone is waiting, anticipating her question as she plays into our scheme.

“To what?” I push her to hurry along with this shit.

This girl, who doesn’t even know how much trouble she’s in with this pack of jackals… she still sits in silence, looking around the group in a dramatic panic. It’s only a party game, but I can tell she’s an overachiever, even when it comes to something this stupid. It’s entertaining to watch her worry over something so small. She has a habit of chewing on her bottom lip, the same way I play with my ring. Briefly I imagine her with a ring through her lip. She would look so fucking hot.

“Take your shirt off and keep it off the entire game!” Molly says for Tessa.

And Tessa’s cheeks flush. A pattern.

“How juvenile.” I lift my black T-shirt up over my head and catch Tessa’s eyes on my body. She’s staring, hard, so hard that she doesn’t even notice me catching her. Steph nudges her with her elbow, and she looks away, cheeks red and eyes downcast.

I’m officially winning this. Zed has no chance.

The game continues, and I sit here half dressed and watch Tessa try and keep her eyes off of me. I can’t read her—I can’t tell if she’s disgusted by my tattoos or intrigued by them. Her jaw keeps twitching; she’s trying her best to sit still.

Interesting.

“Tessa, truth or dare?” Tristan asks.

I lean back on my palms. “Why even ask? We know she’ll say truth—”

“Dare,” the stubborn girl says, surprising me with the challenge in her voice. It’s a defiant sound, different than I would have thought possible just a few moments ago.

“Hmm… Tessa, I dare you to… take a shot of vodka.” Tristan smiles.

“I don’t drink.” She sticks her chin out in refusal.

I figured as much, but I’m pleased by this revelation. Everyone around this place can’t wait for their next high; it’s refreshing to have someone who doesn’t rely on that.

“That’s the point of the dare,” Tristan counters.

“Look, if you don’t want to do it…” Nate starts to tell her.

“She’s such a pussy,” Molly says into my ear.

Pussy? Because she doesn’t want to drink?

“Fine, one shot,” she says. And like that, Little Miss Oh-I-Don’t-Do-X-Y-or-Z caves easily.

Honestly, I’m a little disappointed. Not sure why, but I thought there was something different about her. I thought she wasn’t like the rest of us, desperate to get the attention of our peers.

I was wrong about her, obviously.

“Same dare,” Zed says to her, and takes a large swig before handing vodka over. I’m annoyed by them drinking from the same bottle; it’s disgusting, really.

As the game goes on, drink after drink, she winces and wipes the burning liquid from her lips. Her eyes are red now, her cheeks matching. She looks lost and off balance, even when sitting down.

She lifts the bottle to her lips again, and I find my hand grasping it, pulling it from her. She doesn’t try to stop me—does she sense that she’s had enough to drink?

Does she see this as her first taste at freedom? Such a sheltered girl, out here in the big bad world of people who drink to numb themselves from whatever issues their shitty parents passed on to them. Maybe hers, like mine, is neglect. Was this girl neglected, too? I move my eyes to the neatly pressed collar of her shirt. Nope, she sure as hell wasn’t neglected. It’s possible that her low self-esteem is just a phase. She wants to break free of her controlling mummy and daddy and show herself that she can be a wild girl, too. She’s fully capable of hanging out with the bad kids and drinking herself sick.

The other possibility is that the lot of us are just that good at dragging people down.

“I think you’ve had enough,” I say, and go to hand the bottle off to Nate. But Tessa quickly grabs it at the last second and takes another drink. The trace of a smirk covers her full lips as she licks them clean. I watch her throat as she swallows in a defiant gulp, and want to push her lips open and drink the liquor from her mouth.

I shake the thought away. Molly glances at me, swirling her finger in the air to say that I’m crazy.

Maybe I am.

“I can’t believe you’ve never been drunk before, Tessa. It’s fun, right?” Zed asks her.

She giggles and I roll my eyes.

“Hardin, truth or dare?” Molly asks.

“Dare.” Did she have to ask? Maybe I should have done what Tessa did, just to prove a point.

“I dare you to kiss Tessa.” Molly’s painted lips turn into a smile, and I hear Tessa gasp.

She speaks before I can get a word in. “No, I have a boyfriend.”

“So? It’s just a dare. Just do it,” Molly says, picking at her nails.

“No.” Tessa’s voice rises. “I’m not kissing anyone.” She stands and walks to the other side of the room. I take a drink of my water and watch her disappear out the front door. She was looking at me all night, staring at my shirtless chest, yet she was so disgusted by the thought of kissing me that she would throw a fit and run away?

Or is it possible that a kiss could mean more to her than just conceding to a dare?

“There she goes, ladies and gentlemen!” Nate laughs, leaning into me. The beer in his cup tips over the top and splashes onto the carpet in front of him. He doesn’t bother to clean it up. These floors have seen worse.

“You better run after her or you’ll lose,” Steph says in a mocking voice as I slip my shirt back on.

Man, she’s always so pissy lately, I wonder what her problem is.

“Which of you fuckers is gonna chase her?” Nate asks. I look around the crowded room. She’s nowhere in sight. Zed is watching me, gauging my reaction to her little tantrum. I keep my face neutral, not expressing the slightest bit of interest as I scan the room again. There’s no way I’m letting him be the one to get to her first. She’s pissed because they dared her to kiss me. This stupid-ass game wasn’t my idea anyway, and now it’s already backfired. I fucking told them it was a bad idea. When Logan distracts Zed, I lean up to check the kitchen. I spot Tessa and move to get up off the floor.

“Where are you going?” Molly wraps her hand around my arm as I stand.

“Erm, to get some more water.” I look down into my nearly full cup, not giving a shit if she notices my ruse.

I glance around the room, passing through the crowd while searching for Tessa’s blond hair. When I enter the kitchen, she’s standing at the counter, a bottle of Jack in her hands. She lifts the bottle, and I can feel the familiar ache of need in the back of my throat.

I’m appalled that this girl would fall into such a dangerous pattern so immediately. The way her eyes are clamped shut and the gagging sounds she makes when she finishes… It burns and makes her half sick, yet she still takes another swig. Will she crave it? Will it make her forget things, numbing her mind to memories, like it used to do for me? Does the girl even have memories that she would need to be numb to? By the looks of it, she might.

I watch her still, as she turns the faucet on, searching for a glass. She opens the cabinet and glances toward the doorway. I step back, out of view.

What am I doing in here? Following her around and watching her sudden attachment to the amnesia of liquor?

I quickly turn away and go back to my group. Molly is taunting Logan about his date last night and Nate is lighting a cigarette when I sit back down on the dirty floor.

“Let’s get out of here. I’m bored and I can tell you are too.” Molly’s breath is hot on my neck as she wraps her arms around my shoulders. I shrug her off and shake my head. She latches on again.

“I’m going upstairs,” I tell her. Her arms feel like steel, pulling me down.

“Good idea.” She presses her lips against my neck.

From the combination of her overdrinking and my quick movement, she falls back onto the carpet when she tries to wrap her arms around me, and I get to my feet.

“Yikes. That was tough to watch,” Logan teases her. She flips him off and turns to me.

“Seriously, Hardin?” she growls.

“Seriously, Molly.” I turn away from her and head up the stairs.

As I reach the top of the staircase, my phone rings in my front pocket. Ken’s name flashes on the screen, and I press ignore. I’m not in the mood to deal with him. I’m usually not. I just want to be alone, away from all this music and all these voices. I want my shitty excuse for a father to stop trying to “connect” with me. I want to be lost in the world of a novel where the characters have much worse problems than me and make me feel slightly more normal than I am.

But when I near my room, I see the door is open, cracked just enough for me to know something is off. I always lock that damn door; did I forget?

Inside, Tessa is sitting on my bed, one of my books in her hand. My phone buzzes again. My anger passes from Ken to her. She thinks she can just do whatever the fuck she wants? She can come into my room, more than once, without my permission?

Why is she in here? I warned her before. What’s her problem?

I walk toward her. “What part of ‘No One Comes into My Room’ did you not understand?”

She squares her shoulders out of surprise. “S-sorry. I…” Her voice falters and her eyes grow wide, not with fear… with anger. She’s trying that thing again, the one where she’s really patient with me.

I gesture toward the door. “Get out.”

“You don’t have to be such a jerk!” she yells at me.

“You’re in my room.” The volume of my voice matches hers as I remind her, “Again, after I told you not to be. So get out!”

“Why don’t you like me?” she says. I can see she’s trying to be tough, but her tone has deflated, and her big eyes have made my pulse quicken.