“You promised to help me fend off groupies tonight. Don’t forget.” I make a sound of acknowledgement, and Zayd cuts me off by kissing me with this hard, possessive edge to his lips. “You’re my only groupie now, Charity.” He releases me, and I yank the dress down as he takes off for the stage.
I follow behind, pausing next to Tristan near the steps and giving him a look.
“Are you—”
“I don’t care who you fuck, Marnye,” he says, and then he takes off and disappears for the rest of the night. If I hadn’t seen Lizzie dancing with a group of her old Coventry Prep friends, I’d worry they’d gone somewhere together.
As things stand, Zayd Kaiser does quite literally get swarmed with girls by the end of the set. His friends invite a good half of them into the party, and I end up plastered by his side through the sheer presence of the crowd. There’s hardly enough room to walk.
“Lucky bitch,” one of the girls murmurs, and Zayd gives her this dark look that proves to me he’s right: he’s just as much of an asshole now as he’s always been.
“Talk to her like that again, and I’ll show you the door myself, get it?” he snaps, and I raise my eyebrows as he looks down at me. “What? The only person that gets to bully you is me.”
“Aw, wow, such a romantic statement,” I say with a roll of my eyes, but I know it’s a joke, so I let it go.
Later that night, I end up in Zayd’s bed with Zayd and only Zayd, and he shows me he’s just as capable of going slow as he is fast.The first thing I do when I get home from the concert is hit up Planned Parenthood with Miranda. She talks incessantly about how lucky she is that she doesn’t need birth control, but her constant chatter helps calm my nerves. And she’s got a point. Lucky bitch.
“You are so adulting right now,” she tells me when we walk out of there with birth control pills and climb into the Maserati.
“I am, huh?” I say, trying to find a place to put the giant box of condoms they shoved in my arms on the way out. I’m sure Charlie’s vaguely aware that I’m sexually active, but it’s not something he wants to see evidence of, I’m sure. “Should we go out to celebrate? A special birth control lunch?”
“Let’s wear our uniforms and go intimidate preppy, bourgeois brats in Grenadine Heights.”
“That doesn’t sound very adult to me,” I tell Miranda as I start the car, and she gives me a look, pulling down her shades to stare at me with ice-blue eyes.
“Just because we’re hitting eighteen doesn’t mean we have to give up on all the fun stuff. Come on, let’s go. Food’s on me.”
I grin, but I have to admit: that does sound like fun. Those all-black Burberry Prep uniforms have a way of drawing attention.
I slip my own shades on, and we head back to the house to grab our uniforms. Miranda’s spending the night again, so all her stuff’s piled on my bedroom floor. The Cabots have a huge beach house, but her parents have guests, so she’s made herself scarce. Creed, on the other hand, somehow got roped into an endless string of dinners and cocktail parties. I almost feel sorry for him.
When we pull into the driveway, I see a For Sale sign in the yard, and yank my sunglasses off to gape at it. What the hell?
Charlie’s sitting in his chair in the living room when I walk in, and he smiles as he looks up and sees us.
“What’s with the sign?” I ask, feeling this niggle of worry in my lower belly. Dad shrugs his shoulders loosely, but I can tell he’s stressed out about it. There’s a little ‘V’ of worry between his brows.
“The landlord wants to sell, and I can’t afford a down payment for a house right now. Don’t worry too much about it. The real estate agent let me know it’s likely to be purchased as an investment property, and having us as long-term tenants is a valuable asset.”
“What about the money in my—” I start, but Dad’s already shaking his head.
“There are six offers on the property already. Homes don’t come up often in Grenadine Heights. Don’t worry, honey. You save that money for college and stop worrying so much about your old man.” My mouth purses into a thin line. I wish he’d told me about this sooner. Or maybe the sign was in the yard when the tour bus dropped us off last night, and I just didn’t notice? I was so nervous about my Planned Parenthood appointment today, I easily could’ve overlooked it.
“I’ll never stop worrying about you,” I tell him, giving him a kiss on the forehead.
