I don’t belong. That much is obvious. I stick out like a sore thumb.
It’s still utterly baffling to me that this yearly bonfire happens without a hitch. It never gets shut down, no cops ever arrive, and nothing bad seems to ever happen. Sometimes, I wonder about the intelligence of the police force or that of the sheriff. This is a small town, so how the hell does the sheriff not know there’s underage drinking going on in the same place every single year? I refuse to believe the rich kids and their families have this much power over law enforcement.
“You ready for this, Mackenzie?” Winnie asks from beside me, gripping my sweaty palm in hers. She had to practically threaten bodily harm to drag me here. After Madison made it clear I was not to show my face here, even though I never had any intention of coming in the first place, I threw on my loungewear and started a movie at home. Winnie, being Winnie, wasn’t having any of it. She said we needed this one last hoorah before our senior year. We argued for a while, but she won in the end, like always.
Because, even though I hate to admit it, Winnie is right. Next year is my final year of high school, and I haven’t lived. I haven’t done anything but attend classes, turn my work in on time, and go home. I don’t know what the rallies are like. I don’t know how crazy the football games or homecoming can be. I’ve never experienced any of it because I’m different. I’m the girl in the corner who no one looks at twice. I’m the loser who lives at home with the prom queen. And for once in my high school career, I don’t want to be no one. I want to be someone. I want to be popular and for people to know my name.
I’m not sure what Winnie expects me to get out of tonight. Hell, I’m not even sure what I expect. I don’t plan on drinking anything from those kegs horribly disguised as garbage cans. I sure as hell don’t plan on talking to anyone, not like anyone would start a conversation with me anyway. It’s all a big waste of time.
“This is a mistake.” An icy chill of trepidation shoots up my spine.
She squeezes my hand. “No, it’s not.”
I blow out a wary sigh. “Madison is going to kill me.”
“Oh, screw her. And stop doing that to your teeth.”
I roll my eyes but do as she says. When I’m nervous or anxious, I have a habit of running my tongue over the brackets of my braces. Something about the way the metal snags on my tongue serves as a distraction. It may help me feel better, but I know on the outside, to everyone else, I probably look like a geeky loser with a mouth full of metal.
Winnie leads the way, weaving through groups of people drinking and laughing absurdly loud. We finally step up to a table where the cups are, and the keg is hidden beneath.
“I know you’re going to say no, but I figure I’ll ask anyway. Want a cup?”
Instead of saying no, as I know I should, I dart my gaze around the party and a pair of angry, ice-filled eyes drill into me. Madison stops talking midsentence and is now glaring daggers at me.
God, why didn’t I just stay home?
I flit my eyes from my sister’s death stare to the escape being offered to me in the form of a red cup, and, for once, I do something out of character. I take the escape. With a trembling hand, I take the offered cup from Winnie and bring the plastic rim to my oversized lips. Another thing Madison used to tease me about—my lips. She always used to say I looked like I had fish lips, which never really made any sense to me. But, it honestly didn’t have to. Her vile words still hit their intended mark.
The alcohol is frothy and bitter as I swallow gulp after gulp, surprising myself when I finish the entire cup. Winnie raises her brows and looks at me as though I have two heads. Because seriously, who the hell do I think I am, downing an entire cup like that? The effects of the beer hit me almost immediately. I guess consuming alcohol for the first time can screw with anyone.
“C’mon, I see an open log. Let’s go sit.”
I follow Winnie and perch on the wood. The material of my sweater dress snags on the bark, prompting me to raise my butt over the wood to fix the hellish situation. When Winnie wouldn’t take no for an answer, she dug through my closet, trying to find something suitable for me to wear tonight. All we found was this sweater dress that was casual enough to look like I wasn’t trying too hard, but it wasn’t as homely as my holey jeans and graphic tees. Once I’m positive I don’t have a hole in my dress, I right myself on the log. My gaze dips toward my Converse, and I take in the redness around my ankles.
Good god, I think the chance of my exposure to poison oak just went from fifty-fifty to one hundred percent. I’m pretty sure I’m going to need medical attention soon.
Ignoring my inflamed ankles, I sit in front of the fire and drink in silence, people-watching. When Winnie’s popular teammates call her over, she tugs on my arm to follow, but I shake my head, slipping free.
“No, no, you go.” I force a smile, not wanting to hold her back any longer. With alcohol swimming heavily in my system, I feel like I’m seeing things way more clearly now that I’ve got a buzz. Winnie needs a night like tonight. I can’t hold her back anymore. Especially not with senior year looming.
She’ll never admit it, but she purposely avoids these parties and hanging out with other people from school—all to keep me comfortable. She knows I hate these things, and she knows she’s my only friend. I don’t want to be the one who keeps her from enjoying her last year here in Ferndale.
“You sure, Kenz? I don’t want to leave you alone.”
I smile through my alcoholic haze, my eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m fine, Winnie. I’ll be right here. You go. Seriously.”
For a second, she looks as though she’s going to argue. I know she doesn’t want to leave, but in the end, she decides to go. I take another sip of my beer and wait for her to come back, my gaze riveted to the roaring flames of the fire.
I don’t know how much time passes, but it’s long enough that it dawns on me Winnie is still gone. She’s no longer in the spot she was when she left to go mingle. She’s nowhere to be found actually. My stomach sloshes as I sway when I climb to my feet. I realize I may have consumed way too much beer. I’ve obviously overestimated myself and my drinking abilities.
My legs feel weird, and I’m pretty sure if I bit my tongue off right now, I wouldn’t even feel it. Everything feels blissfully numb. In my drunken state, it takes me a while to process the loud voices being directed at me.
“Hey, you! Get over here!”
When I pick my gaze up, hazy vision and all, my eyes settle on the group of hulking guys standing not too far away from me, and it’s then I realize the rowdy group is talking to me. My brows pull down, or at least I think they do, and I look over my shoulder, trying to see if these jocks can be talking to anyone else, but, sure enough, I’m the only one here.
One of them barks out a laugh at my actions.
“Yes, I’m talking to you. Get over here!” The voice is deep. A guy’s voice. When I find the source, my stomach clenches because I recognize who the voice belongs to. Trent Ainsworth. All-around asshole, hot jock, and one of the five Savages of Humboldt County.
Yeah, that’s right. I said Savages.
Honestly, I think they’re more in line with devils.