Page 10 of Score
Is Verity not even here? Didn’t Petra say they’re dating? I never could keep up with Petra’s relationship revolving door. Seemed like she had a new girl on her arm every week when I knew her before.
I enter the kitchen to find Ezekiel minding the vast array of liquor bottles spread across the counter. He must be some kind of ad hoc bartender because he’s taking orders and mixing drinks.
“Hey! You made it,” he greets me with a wide grin. “We got a little of everything. What’ll you have?”
“Just a beer.” I reach for a Coors Light and pop it open. “What’s your major?”
“I’m premed.” He hands one girl two drinks and a smile before turning his attention back to me.
“Oh, so that’s how you and Petra know each other?” I sip my beer and lean against the counter.
“Mostly. Gillian and Petra actually met first, and we realized we were on the same track.”
“Where’s Gillian tonight?”
“Think she was helping Verity get ready.” He snorts. “Gillian begged to do her makeup for her.”
She doesn’t need it.
I’ve no sooner thought it, than through the small kitchen window, I see Verity and Gillian emerging from the bedroom.
Fuck.I shouldn’t have come.
I hoped my memory of her was distorted, exaggerated, but she’s as gorgeous and captivating as when I spotted her last night in the crowded club. She has what I think people call a heart-shaped face, but that is a pitiful description for the chin that narrows to a point and the cheekbones so high and molded they flare into lines somehow boldandfragile. Her almond-shaped eyes are chocolate and midnight, her brows silky and finely arched. The curls, fluffed out and haloing around her last night, are more subdued tonight, stretched to her shoulders in deep waves. Gillian’s cosmetic handiwork on her eyes and cheeks only highlights the beauty of her skin.
Jesus, this girl’s skin.
Her skin is medium brown, with reddish undertones that illuminate her complexion. She’s burnished sienna, emanating a glow that owes little to the overhead lighting. It’s something shining from inside that radiates through her pores. It’s just as hard to look away now as it was last night.
She wears a pink sweater cropped to flash glimpses of her toned stomach. A skirt with layers of tulle shimmers silver and pink, falling just short of her knees. She stands in the doorway to Petra’s bedroom and crosses one ballet flat–shod foot behind her ankle. I look away before she catches me staring again.
“She’s something else, huh?” Ezekiel grins and wipes down the counter.
“Who?” I ask.
“Verity. That’s who you were looking at, right?”
“Oh, nah.” I clear my throat and straighten from the counter. “It’s not like that. She’s a beautiful girl, obviously, but she’s with Petra. I wouldn’t… I wasn’t. Nah.”
“Theydohave an open relationship,” he says, plopping a maraschino cherry into some fizzy drink. “But it hasn’t opened to me yet, if you know what I mean.”
I offer him a polite smile and toss the can in the garbage bag nearby.
“I can’t stay long,” I say instead of addressing his last comment. “I’mma get out there a little before I have to dip.”
“Yeah, okay. You playing any more around campus?”
“Some, yeah.”
A girl walks in wearing tight jeans and a Finley sweatshirt. “I need a refill, Zeke.”
“I got you,” he says, tipping his chin to me. “Good seeing you, Monk.”
I make my way back into the living room. There’s no sign of Verity now, and I can’t help but wonder where she disappeared to that fast.
Not my business.
The mingled scents of strong perfume, alcohol, and weed make me slightly nauseous. Needing some air, I pick my way through the people toward the sliding doors to the postage-stamp patio. It’s blessedly empty now. There are three folding lawn chairs, one set back a little into the shadows under a hanging fern.
