I check my phone and see a text from my mom: Just got off my flight. Be careful tonight. Try not to attract any attention. I’ll try to call you later when we’re at the hotel.
“Love you, too, Mom,” I mumble to myself as a rough hand closes hard around my arm.
My heart automatically goes into overdrive as my brain realizes that someone is stopping me from walking. I turn around to face a broad chest, and tilt my head up to look into the dark eyes of a boy I definitely know doesn’t go to King City High.
He’s rugged and huge, like a linebacker, and is holding a beer in the hand that isn’t holding my arm. He creeps me out. I don’t get a good vibe from this guy at all, and the fact that he’s still holding me in place is making my panic worse.
He pulls me close and gives me what I’m sure he thinks is a charming smile. “Hey, sexy, what’s your name?”
“Not interested.” I twist my arm out of his grip, then turn around.
He grabs my arm again, rougher this time. “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”
“No, because I dug my way up from hell,” I say.
He blinks at me.
I blink back at him.
Then he breaks into a grin. “Feisty. I like it.”
He pulls me closer to him, setting his beer down and wrapping his now-free arm around my waist, grabbing my butt. Oh no. No, no, no. I do not like this at all. Bringing my arms up, I push at his chest.
“Sorry, I have a boyfriend,” I lie, trying to calm my racing heart and keep my panic at bay. “A big one, and he’s waiting for me, so I really have to go.”
He now has both hands on my butt, and crushes me against him. “Oh come on. Live a little. I’m sure your boyfriend knows it’s a crime to keep someone like you all to himself. He won’t mind sharing.”
I’m having trouble breathing. He’s holding me so tightly against him, his hands groping me, and—
His gross, slimy lips are on me. I turn my head quickly, my skull hitting his face. Taking advantage of catching him off guard, I shove him, getting enough room between us to allow me to drive my knee up into his groin.
He reacts and bends down clutching himself in obvious pain, but I’m still pissed. I knee him in his stomach, and when he bends down even lower, he gives me access to his back. I bring my arms up and interlock my fingers, then drive my straight elbows into his back, causing him to tumble to the floor.
“No means no, asshat!”
I drag my arm across my lips to wipe away the memory of his kiss, and then look for Mason or Noah to kick this piece of trash out. But two other linebackers standing with their arms crossed block my escape path. Looking up at their pissed off faces, I see that they don’t go to my school, either, and they are as huge and intimidating as asshat number one on the floor.
The one on the left grabs me, forcing me back toward the guy I just escaped from. The other guy follows him, blocking us from view. The asshat stands up, looking seriously pissed off.
“You gonna let this bitch get away with that, Dave?”
“I’ll show you what happens to rude bitches,” Dave snarls.
He lifts his arm and backhands me across the cheek, and I end up leaning against the wall for support. My rising heartbeat rings loudly in my ears, and the panic claws at me, up my stomach and into my throat, almost suffocating me. His hand closes tightly around my throat, but almost as quickly as I feel it, the pressure is lifted, and I hear a body hitting the floor—hard.
With my hand on my throbbing cheek, I force air into my lungs to calm my racing heart. I move my hair out of my face so I can see what’s going on.
Dave’s lying bloody on the floor, and his two friends are fighting a guy whose back is to me. One of Dave’s friends joins him on the floor, groaning in pain, and as the other guy is tackled by my defender, I see his face.
Aiden.
My eyes widen as if to make sure they aren’t playing tricks on me.
Yup, my defender is Aiden, and he looks murderous. I can practically feel the anger radiating off him in waves.
Someone cuts the music and the crowd thins quickly while those who are left watch Aiden beat the shit out of these guys. He and Dave’s friend circle each other, the other guy already dripping blood from his nose. Aiden’s opponent suddenly relaxes his tense pose and smiles slightly, looking over Aiden’s shoulder with a victorious look in his eyes. Four boys advance on Aiden from behind.
“Aiden!” I yell.
But I’m too late. All four boys charge at Aiden at the same time, tackling him to the ground. My heart stops. The edges of my vision tinge black as Aiden disappears under the pile of boys.
Determined to help Aiden, since the wimps we go to school with are clearly more intent on watching the action unfold, I rush up to the nearest guy and swing my arm out, expecting to hit flesh, but a blur of olive green tackles him to the ground.
Mason punches the guy in the face as Julian pulls a guy off Aiden, who was doing fairly well for taking on four guys—he managed to break someone’s nose, forcing him to run out of the room.
Noah comes out of nowhere and pushes me behind him. “Amelia, get out of here, there are a lot more crashers from Commack Silver High on their way, and they’re dying for a fight.”
He joins in just as more guys from Commack Silver do as well. Aiden, Mason, Noah, and Julian are now facing two of the blindsiders and the eight newcomers, and I notice Chase has just entered out of nowhere and joined Aiden’s side in the face-off.
Noah told me to leave, but I’m glued to the spot. My legs will not move. I can’t remember how to do anything but stand in one spot and stare at the unfolding scene.
It’s ten against five. Oh my God.
The other partygoers look more shocked and scared than I do, so my hopes of someone else jumping in are dashed.
I’m moving before my brain realizes what I’m doing, as if my reasoning has shut off and given over to instinct. All I can think is: It’s uneven, someone has to help. Someone has to do something. It’s uneven.
Just as one of the guys is about to lunge at Noah, I jump in front of him and take a swing at his face, my attack taking him off guard and knocking him to the floor. He looks up at me in shock and rage, and all nine standing C. S. guys shift their attention to me with venomous glares.
Then all hell really breaks loose.
Aiden reaches me first, grabbing me and throwing me behind him, taking a protective stance. The remaining guys all pounce at him, and our friends jump in to help Aiden defend me, their grunts and swears chilling me to the bone.
Aiden fights one guy, all while never moving from in front of me.
It happens before I can warn anyone. Another guy from C. S. High grabs an empty beer bottle and swings it with all his might right on Noah’s head. The sound of glass shattering is like a bullet to my pounding heart, and I watch in horror as Noah collapses to the floor. There’s blood coming from the gash in Noah’s head, and it’s seeping onto the floor.
The sudden realization of how serious this situation is must have hit everyone at the same time Noah hit the floor. Girls scream and cry, and I vaguely realize one of the voices is my own.
Aiden pounces on the guy who attacked Noah, beating him mercilessly. The remaining boys from Commack Silver High try to scatter, grabbing the injured guys and running from the house as quickly as they can carry them. Racing to Aiden, who’s still punching the attacker on the floor, I yell, “Aiden! Aiden, stop! Please!”