HIM
as I stand there and cry. I'm still very frozen in shock from the voice I heard on the other end of the phone.My phone buzzes, and I turn my wrist, which is still hanging down by my thigh. Luke flashes across my screen, and I hit the ignore button. I put my phone on silent then throw it onto the counter of the stink. I slip out of my dress and panties then step into the shower.
Not thinking for one moment about whatever that was that just happened, I start to scrub my face, body, shave my armpits and legs, and wash my hair. I step out of the shower, wrapping myself in a towel and throwing my hair up in one. I walk into my room and turn on my old CD player. An old school metal song comes on, and I turn up the volume.
I grab a shirt that has a low scoop neck and rips up the entire back of it. I used to wear a bright neon sports bra with this shirt, but I decided to live dangerously and not wear one tonight. I grab a pair of white ripped jean shorts and my black sandals. I head back into the bathroom to blow-dry and straighten my hair.
I apply a more smoldering smoky eye than I usually do; I add a thick line of eyeliner, including my bottom inner lid and an extra two coats of mascara. I play eenie-meanie between my brown and bright red lip gloss—the red winning. I do a quick hair flip after I spray myself with my fragrance mist and apply some pit stick to my underarms. I grab my phone, shoving it in my back pocket without checking it, and head out the door.
Chapter Seventy-Six
I don't know what's gotten into me, but I've become very irritated and uneasy, almost angry since I've heard Luke's voice. I stop at the liquor store and grab some vodka and whiskey as I'm in a mood to get annihilated tonight. It's almost ten, so I'm sure I will have some catching up to do.
It's packed at Jason's house like the first night I partied here the day after my dad's funeral. The music is blaring, and the fire pit is blazing. I always feel stupid walking up to his parties by myself and sober, so I open the bottle of vodka and take a swig. I down a few more before I get out of my car. I should get a bit tipsy before going inside. I can feel the burning sensation from the warm vodka traveling down my throat. I burp loud, looking around, but no one heard it, so I laugh at myself then head toward the garage. Jason spots me and comes over. I am glad to see him.
"Woah, Ali, this outfit is—" he starts to say before I interrupt him.
"Let's get drunk. Down for Beer Pong?" I shout and walk up the stairs.
Jason follows behind me.
"Your ass is hanging out of the bottom of your shorts," he announces as he flicks the bottom of my ass cheek.
"Uh, huh," I reply, not giving two shits.
We enter the room where everyone is drinking, shouting, playing games, and having a good ole time. I realize that being sad isn't going to change anything, so why shouldn't I live it up. I walk over to the little bar, set down the vodka and whiskey I brought. I make myself a strong screwdriver and skim the room for Jason. I recognize the girl he's talking to from this morning; well, sort of, since she has clothes on. I walk over and grab his ass. He turns around and puts his arm around me.
"You are feisty tonight," he whispers in my ear.
I do not know quite how to describe the mood I am in right now, but I want to get wasted and not care about anything or anyone. I've had enough of everything.
I give him a raised brow, smile, and shout, "Beer Pong!"
I drink my screwdriver halfway down before we make it to the beer pong table. We find some opponents and begin our first game; of course, we slaughter them badly. Our first four shots were sunk right off the bat. We take our victory shot of patron then dive immediately into the next game. I have Jason make me a new drink before we start. I can feel the warmth of my buzz rising through my body. I'm being unusually flirty with Jason but am liking his attention on me instead of some random hoe from the party.
I bend over the table right in front of him. I can feel his body against mine as I aim my hand at one of our final few cups. I draw my hand back and sink the ball in the cup. I throw my hands up and turn around to jump on Jason.
"Are you not wearing a bra," he whispers in my ear.
He sets me down, and I grab a ball to get ready for my next shot. I dip it in the water cup, then I look back at him and wink.
"Nope," I say in a sort of high-pitched voice, then position myself for my shot.
I make it again. The room shouts as most people crowd around watching Jason and I kick everyone's ass. We win our second game with flying colors, take another victory shot, then start our third game. We switch to the other side of the table this time, and I land my first two balls, missing the third as it hit the cup rim and bounced off the table. I'm on my fourth screwdriver, and I think I had three shots of tequila. I am totally in my zone.
I'm feeling terrific, my attitude and the funk I showed up in has now faded. I'm having a blast and haven't thought about Luke even once since I got here. We end up winning our third game, barely, since Jason is