eventually brought on. The edges of my life didn’t seem so bad then. Week number two of the second term had brought on my first one-on-one therapy session with Mrs. Collins, no job, and the fear that Noah Hutchins would change his mind and tell everyone about my scars. The two of us had gone back to ignoring each other. “Mrs. Collins asked me this week if I drank. I’m really tired of lying to her.”
Michael Blair, host of the party, walked by with a tray full of beers for another round of beer pong. Lila stole two and passed one to me. “Adults want us to lie. They expect us to lie. They want to live in their perfect little worlds and pretend we do nothing more than eat cookie dough and watch reality TV.”
I sipped the beer. “But we do eat cookie dough and watch reality TV.”
Lila stumbled before narrowing her eyes at me. “Exactly. We do that to take them off guard.”
The warm fuzzy feeling that helped take the edge off also slowed the thought process. I ran through what she said twice. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
She waved her hand around like she was going to explain. Her hand kept moving, but her mouth stayed shut. Finally she dropped her hand and took another drink. “I’ve got no clue. Let’s dance, birthday girl.”
We threw our empty cups in the garbage and wove through the crowd to the source of the pumping music. Music … dancing … Luke had said I needed to find him. I opened my mouth to tell Lila when she abruptly stopped. “I’ve gotta pee.” She took a sharp left and closed the bathroom door behind her.
I leaned my right shoulder against it and listened for dry heaves. Nope, she was definitely peeing.
Pain shot down my left arm when someone ran into me and kept walking. I glanced over my shoulder. “Watch it!”
A girl with long black hair, dressed in black from head to toe and sporting a nose ring, stepped toward me. She stood close enough that I could count her eyelashes over her bloodshot eyes.
“Get out of my way and there wouldn’t be a problem.”
Okay. I was a complete wuss. I’d never gotten into a fistfight in my life. Did anything to avoid people yelling at me. Worried at night that I may have offended someone. So when this biker-looking chick stood there with her arms stretched out wide, waiting for my witty comeback or me to throw a punch, I considered puking.
“Back off, Beth,” a deep, husky voice called out behind me. Crap. I knew that voice.
Biker Beth’s gaze settled right behind my shoulder. “She yelled at me.”
“You ran into her first.” Noah Hutchins stood beside me. His biceps touched my shoulder.
The corners of her mouth stretched up. “You didn’t tell me you were fucking Echo Emerson.”
“Oh, God,” I moaned. She knew me—and she thought I was doing “it” with him. The room tilted and the warm fuzzy feeling I loved faded. Happy birthday to me.
“She’s my tutor.”
I leaned against the wall and wished everything would stop moving.
“Whatever. I’ll see you outside when you’re done studying.” Biker chick Beth waggled her eyebrows and walked away.
Fantastic. Another rumor to worry about. I needed to get away from him. Noah Hutchins meant nothing but bad news. First he made fun of me. Then he saw my scars. Then he destroyed my hopes of fixing Aires’ car. Then he made people think we were doing “it.”
I tried the doorknob to the bathroom, hoping to join Lila in there, but it didn’t budge. Locked doors were in direct violation of the buddy system. Screw it. I pushed off the wall and stumbled to the back door. Air. I needed lots of air.
I inhaled deeply the moment I stepped out onto the patio. The cold air burned my lungs and immediately nipped at the exposed skin on my neck and face. I heard laughter and voices in the darkness beyond the patio line. Probably the stoners smoking their crap.
“Do you have some sort of issue with jackets?”
Come freaking on. Why couldn’t I get rid of him? I spun around and nearly ran into Noah. Depth perception and beer obviously weren’t related. “Are you determined to ruin my life?” Shut up, Echo. “I mean, do you have nothing else to do but destroy me?” That’s enough. You can stop anytime now. “Did you come to this party to tell everyone about my scars?” And I officially became the after-school special on why teenagers shouldn’t drink.
I stared into his eyes and waited for his response. Neither one of us moved. Dear God, Lila and Natalie were right. He was hot. How could I have missed a body built like this? His unzipped jacket exposed his T-shirt, so tight I could see the curve of his muscles. And those dark brown eyes …
Noah straightened his head and coolly responded, “No.”
A cold wind swept across the patio, causing me to shiver. Noah shrugged off his black leather jacket and tossed it around my shoulders. “How are you going to tutor me if you get fucking pneumonia?”
I cocked an eyebrow. What an odd combination of romantic gesture and horribly crude wording. I clutched his jacket, resisting the urge to close my eyes when a sweet, musky scent surrounded me. My slow mind turned one wheel. “That’s twice you brought up tutoring.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. His hair fell into his eyes, blocking my new favorite view. “Nice to know that your mind still works when you’re fucked up.”
“You use that word a lot.” I swayed. Maybe I didn’t need space. I needed a wall. I stumbled and leaned my back against the cold brick. A small mutinous part of my brain chanted “buddy system” over and over again. Yeah, I’ll get on it—in a few.
Noah followed and stopped less than an inch in front of me. So close, the heat from his body enveloped every inch of mine.
“What word?”
“The f one.” Wow. He stood closer to me than Luke had earlier. Close enough that, if he wanted to, he could kiss me.
His dark eyes searched mine and then moved down to inspect the rest of my body. I should tell him to stop or make a sarcastic comment or at least feel degraded, but none of that happened. Not until his lips turned up.
“Meet your approval?” I asked sarcastically.
He laughed. “Yes.” I liked his deep laugh. It tickled my insides.
“You’re high.” Because no one in their right mind would find me attractive. Especially when that person had seen the infamous scars.
“Not yet, but I’m planning on it. Want to come?”
I didn’t need full use of my brain for this answer. “No. I like my brain cells. I find they come in handy when I … oh, I don’t know … think.”
His wicked grin made me smile. Not my fake smile—my real one.
“Funny.” In a lightning-fast move, he placed both of his hands on the brick wall, caging me with his body. He leaned toward me and my heart shifted into a gear I didn’t know existed. His warm
