My Favourite Mistake. Chelsea Cameron M.

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СКАЧАТЬ had lovely dark skin the color of earthenware, and dark hair and eyes. He was also crazy tall and thin as a rail. Sean was blocky and built like a wrestler, with short blond hair and brown eyes. They both gave me and Darah the once-over. I’d never been checked out so much in my life.

      “So, you coming out with us, Missy?” He was staring at my boobs again.

      I crossed my arms. “Some of us aren’t into breaking the law.”

      “You are now,” he said, holding something out to me. It was a fake ID, complete with a picture of a girl who could almost be me, and a birth date that wasn’t mine, but was at least twenty-one.

      “Where the hell did you get this?”

      He shared a look with the guys. “I have my sources. Go, get ready. You’re not wearing that.”

      “What’s wrong with this?” I would never go out clubbing in my current attire, but I wanted to push his buttons.

      “I’d want to screw you no matter what you’re wearing, but you might want to spruce up a little so everyone will want you,” he said.

      “Fuck you,” I said, chucking the ID in his face and going to my room. I heard the guys ribbing Hunter as I shut the door.

      I rifled through my dresser, coming up with a pair of black leggings, a red tunic and a pair of black boots. I yanked my hair out of the bun and brushed it furiously before drawing on a quick stroke of eyeliner around my bluish-greenish eyes and slicking on some lip gloss. I walked into a cloud of my favorite grapefruit body spray, and I was ready.

      “Better?” I said, leaning against the wall.

      “Fuckable. Let’s go.”

      Darah and Renee were already chatting with the other guys like they’d known each other forever.

      I wasn’t going to admit that I was scared of getting caught. I was nervous, sure, but it was more than that. Being in the club would mean I’d be pressed up against a ton of sweaty strangers. That was the part I didn’t like. But there was no way I was going to let Hunter call me a pussy. So I shoved the fake ID in my pants pocket, grabbed some cash and followed everyone outside.

      The night was balmy, the summer not having loosened its grip on Maine yet. We all walked in a large blob, no one really in front. Luckily, the club was within stumbling distance of campus.

      “You won’t have to buy any drinks tonight,” Hunter said, turning around and walking backward while simultaneously leering at me.

      “And why is that?”

      He shook his head. “Do you seriously not see it? Mase, man. Would you screw Taylor?”

      “Hell, yeah,” Mase said, giving me a thumbs-up. “I mean, if you wanted to.”

      “Dev?”

      “Yeah, sure.” Sean also agreed that he’d do me.

      “Is that all you think about? Sex?”

      “What else is there to think about? Everyone thinks about it. We’re programmed to think about it. Even you, Missy.” He stopped walking, and I nearly bumped into him. He grabbed my arms to steady me.

      “Let me go.”

      “It’s on you, Missy. I’ll be gone in five seconds. Just prove to me that you love me or hate me.”

      “Love and hate are completely different.”

      “Not really. They’re the two sides of the same coin. One flip and you can be on the other side before you know it. I’ll take either one from you.”

      “I hate you right now. What do I have to do to prove that to you?”

      He touched the bruise on his face that I couldn’t see in the dark. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” He turned around and jumped on Mase’s back, nearly taking him down.

      The boys were acting like they were already drunk, pushing and laughing and being too loud. I stuck close to Darah and Renee because they had previous club experience. I didn’t.

      The closer we got to the club, the more nervous I got. I could practically feel the music pounding through the pavement out front. The building was small and had no windows. Several people smoked around the edges, and a few girls wearing clothes that hardly qualified as clothes stumbled outside, laughing and clutching on to each other.

      I rubbed my arms, even though I wasn’t cold. We made a line, and Hunter put himself in front of me. The bouncer looked like he was probably on the football team and greeted Mase like they were long-lost friends, doing that weird one-armed hug, back-pat thing dudes do when they don’t want to hug. He waved the other guys in and gave the girls IDs a cursory check.

      “Jay, man, how are you? Long time no see. This is my new friend, Taylor.”

      “Another friend, Z? You have more friends than I have socks. Nice to meet you. Be careful,” he said, laughing and waving us in before I could say, “Nice to meet you, too.”

      The club was dark, loud and hot, just like I’d thought it would be. The ceiling was low; there were too many tables and too many people. Lights flashed, nearly blinding me.

      “Let me get you a drink,” Hunter said in my ear.

      He had to yell because the music was so loud. I couldn’t see a DJ anywhere. My eyes searched and finally found Darah, Renee and the guys at a corner table. They all had drinks.

      “Come on. Let me buy you a drink.”

      “Whatever,” I said and went to stand next to Darah.

      “You made it through,” she said, cupping her hand over her mouth so I could hear her.

      “Yeah, he didn’t even look at it,” I said, shrugging. No wonder this place was always getting busted.

      “Lucky you,” she yelled back, sipping on her drink.

      Hunter came back moments later, shouldering his way through the crowd. He had this amazing way of walking, like he had all the time in the world.

      “You look like a rum and Coke kind of girl,” he said, handing me a glass. There was a lime wedge on top that I squeezed into the glass and then stirred it around before I took a sip. Hunter had a Coors Light. Typical.

      I sipped my drink warily. I definitely didn’t trust him.

      “I didn’t drug it, I swear. I wouldn’t need drugs to get you into bed,” he yelled in my ear. His hand brushed down my bare arm, and it took everything in me not to throw the drink in his face.

      “Go ahead, throw it at me. You know you want to,” he said.

      Bodies swarmed on the dance floor, gyrating and bumping together. Some had better moves than others. Some were practically having sex.

      Instead, I took a sip. The Coke fizzed on my tongue and the rum chased it, the taste dark, heady and warm. It was freaking delicious. How did Hunter know I would like it?

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