Chapter Four

When Saturday night finally arrived, I had a game plan set out in my mind and was fully ready to execute it. When I had told Dad I was going to Brendan’s party he had looked at me like I was crazy and then flat out refused, even though I hadn’t really asked for permission. It might have had something to do with the fact that Jack had opened his big mouth and told my dad about the phone calls and the text. Needless to say, he freaked out and started talking about how he was going to have to lock me away in some tower just to keep me safe. Unfortunately for Dad, he could try and Rapunzel me all the way to San Francisco if he wanted, but I was going to that party come hell or high water. If there was one thing Meghan was brilliant at, it was getting her way. She wasn’t an idiot; she knew for sure that Brendan and I had been fighting all week. His party was the perfect setting to flip her hair and throw some playful winks in his direction. And knowing Brendan, he’d fall right into her trap. So I told Dad to take a chill pill and relax, promising I wouldn’t be out too late, even though we both knew that was a big fat lie. He did lots of sighing and kept giving me his I’m a pained parent look, but couldn’t really stop me in the end.

Jack and I rode to Brendan’s house that night in almost complete silence, which was good because I still didn’t trust myself to not say something stupid around him. I was already on edge because of the party; I didn’t need Jack’s perfect blonde hair messing with my thoughts. Besides, our little arrangement in the gym meant that I’d have to tone my attitude down around him, which was going to be hard because it was becoming more of a habit now than anything else. Luckily for me, Jack had given up on trying to make small talk about a minute into the ride, and instead turned the radio up as loud as our ears could manage. Apparently pretending the other one didn’t exist was working out to be the preferred coping method for the both of us.

When we finally arrived, Jack parked on Brendan’s street a little away from the open gates leading to his enormous mansion. He turned the car off, eyes straight ahead.

“Jesus,” Jack said. “Did the whole of L.A. turn out for this party?”

There was a sea of luxury cars ahead, as already tipsy teenage girls were making their way past the manicured bushes and into the house, while their boyfriends yelled at each other not to scratch their new Lamborghinis while parking. The music was so loud that we could hear it from Jack’s jeep, even with the windows rolled up. I didn’t recognize about eighty percent of the people I saw, but that was pretty normal. Big parties always tended to draw attention from the outside.

“I wonder if Meghan’s here yet?” I said, scanning the crowd.

“Seriously?” Jack turned to face me. “You’re still on that?”

“If you’re referring to how Meghan Adams is trying to get her slimy fingers on Brendan, then yes. I’m still on that.”

“You’ve got a lot of issues.”

Yeah, well, who doesn’t buddy? Jack shook his head, opened the car door and climbed out. After a few seconds of mental pep-talking I did the same, trying not to fall flat on my face as my five-inch Balenciaga shoes hit the pavement.

“Wait,” Jack said, eyeing the area around the car. He stood on his tiptoes, peering over the back of the car.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“All clear,” Jack said, slipping the keys into his jeans pocket. “Just checking.”

Now it was my turn to shake my head. After our deal, Jack had gone full spy mode. He kept looking out the windows like a hired assassin was going to jump out from behind a bush with a pair of nunchucks. Which was fantastic, because Dad was already hyped enough about it. No really Jack, thanks a bunch. Luckily Kenny, although slightly concerned, kept reminding him that there was nothing we could do until we got another sign from whoever this Dr. D was.

I had even taken it upon myself to do some top secret spy research and Googled the different ways someone could anonymously send a message. I’m pretty sure some of the sites that came up had some illegal content on them, but apparently it was possible to send texts from certain websites. That, and there were single, busty Russian girls in my area who were dying to meet me.

“Can we tone down the whole secret service thing you’ve got going?” I said. “It’s freaking me out.”

“My ‘secret service’ thing is what’s going to keep you safe.”

“Can’t you just, like, give me a can of pepper spray like a normal person and go home to New York?”

Jack smiled. “That wasn’t our deal.”

I groaned and said, “Ugh, this stupid deal is going to kill me.”

And if it didn’t, Jack’s appearance definitely would. He had his hands tucked into the pockets of his blue jeans, and was wearing a maroon, button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had taken a little extra care with his hair, and his eyes looked bluer than I’d ever seen them before. There was a large part of me that thought I should just give up on the Meghan thing and let her have my boyfriend and focus all my energy on Jack. But there was another part of me, most likely my ego, that wouldn’t allow it. At least not yet. I had barely known the guy a week and I had bigger things to worry about at the moment.

Although now that the party was right behind me, I was beginning to have some doubts about my game plan. So many things could go wrong; it was ridiculous. Jack and Brendan in the same place with unlimited alcohol and Meghan Adams could only result in something bad happening. The alcohol was inevitable and I doubted I could handle a Brendan-Jack showdown, but Meghan I could deal with. I took a deep breath, giving the air a sharp, determined nod. It was just a party. I had been to a million of these and I’d survived. Of course I had never had to deal with Jack Anderson before, living proof that there is a God and he does love us.

“We should cover a few things before we go in,” I told him, leaning against his car.

But Jack didn’t look like he was listening. Instead, he was eyeing me up and down, now that my outfit was in full view. I guess he hadn’t bothered to notice it when I was in the car.

“You look nice,” he said, giving a light shrug.

Wow. Really wasn’t expecting that one.

“Are you allowed to say that to me?”

“What? I’m just harmlessly complimenting you.”

I scoffed and said, “Yeah, alright buddy. Keep it in your pants. It’s just a dress.”

OH. MY. LORD. Jack Anderson had actually complimented me, which clearly meant he thought I looked hot! And good, because I was wearing a two thousand dollar Herve Leger dress. So if a few boys didn’t have a heart attack at the party, then I’d be severely disappointed. Sure, it was a tad much for an impromptu high school gathering, but given my circumstances, I needed to pull out all stops.

“Fine,” Jack said. “You look like crap. Is that better?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, something I was doing a lot lately. “Are you allowed to say that to me?”

Jack rolled his eyes and said, “I can’t win with you!”

I clutched my bag to my chest, trying not to shiver as a gust of wind blew past. “I think we need to add a clause to our contract,” I told him, hoping my voice was coming across as extremely professional.

Jack looked like he wanted to walk away and never return, but I could see the curiosity was kind of eating at him. I was right.

“Alright, fine. Let’s hear it,” he said.

“I don’t think it’s fair that I have to be nice to you but you don’t have to be nice to me,” I replied.

“I just complimented your dress!”

“So?”

“So that was nice.”

“No, that was inappropriate.”

“I can’t separate the two.”

I gave him a knowing look. “Clearly.”

Jack gave an impatient sigh and said, “I’m helping you investigate your stalker. Isn’t that enough?”

“You haven’t even done anything yet!” I cried, half-laughing at how ridiculous the conversation was beginning to sound.

“Gia, I have nothing to go off,” Jack said. “We have no phone number, no real name, no way of contacting this person. I’m doing the best I can!”

“Yeah well, do better,” I said, walking toward the loud music.

“Only the best for Harry Winters’s little princess.”

I stopped walking, turning to face him with a wrinkled nose. It was only okay when I referred to myself as Princess Gia in my flashback story. Coming out of Jack’s mouth, it sounded like a huge insult. I considered whacking him with my bag, but then eyed his deceptively toned muscles. They didn’t look like Hulk Hogan, but I hit like a sissy. There was no way the bag was going to do enough damage. My stiletto might have, but I wasn’t about to let my foot touch the pavement without a layer of protection.

Behind us, the drunken shouts of people singing along to a song I barely recognized grew louder.

“Look, here’s the game plan!” I snapped impatiently. “We go in there, I find Meghan, confront her and make sure she keeps her paws off my man.”

“Please never repeat that last line.”

“I just know she’s going to be prancing around Brendan all night in her hooker shoes.”

Jack looked like he was slowly losing the will to live. “Wait,” he said. “Your grand plan is to find Meghan and start a fight? How’s that going to solve anything?”

“It’s a working idea, okay?” I said, hands on my hips. “Just go with the flow. Oh, and if someone hands you a bag with white powder in it, it’s probably not icing sugar.”

“Gia,” Jack said, giving me a knowing look. “I know how parties work, and I know what drugs are. I’m not actually from Guam. Which, by the way, happens to be part of America.”

“Seriously?” My eyes widened. “No kidding!”

Somehow Dad had forgotten to put that into his geographical fun facts.

“So can we go in now, or do you have any other freaky rules to go over?”

“No, I think that covers it.”

As Jack and I walked up Brendan’s driveway, I did some major mental pep talking. I totally had the situation under control. I mean, my hair was perfect and my dress was beyond fabulous. Granted I couldn’t really breathe all that well in it, but whatever. If you aren’t in some kind of pain, your outfit isn’t right.

We entered the house and were instantly greeted by a wave of minimally dressed, drunk people. The music was so deafeningly loud; my ears began ringing within seconds. It had been less than a minute and I had already inhaled enough secondhand fumes to last a lifetime. Jack leaned in and said something close to my ear, but I couldn’t hear it over the sound of a group of giggling girls holding their heels in their hands.

“WHAT?”

“STAY CLOSE.”

He didn’t have to ask me twice. I wasn’t too keen on getting lost among a raging ocean of strangers, especially ones that couldn’t even speak English, based on the two girls standing next to me. They kept yelling in what I could only assume was Swedish, and they didn’t seem happy with each other. Jack and I weaved our way through the crowd, which seemed unusually packed given the time. It was just past nine o’clock and I was certain the police would show up within the next hour. I had been to a lot of parties in my time, but the turn out for this one was impressive. You’d have thought Dr. Dre and I really were collaborating on an album.

Unfortunately for me, from the minute we walked in, girls around the room had already spotted Jack as a possible target and were giving him hopeful smiles and waves. There was no way in hell I was letting Jack near the pool and the bikini-clad Barbie dolls surrounding it. Some perky brunette who I always saw around school, but never knew the name of, walked past us with a gentle “hi” to Jack, absolutely ignoring me in the process. She wasn’t fooling anyone with the amount of makeup she was wearing; I still knew she didn’t belong.

“Freshman?” I said, smiling at her innocently.

She looked at me nervously and said, “Um, yeah. Bu—”

“Get out!” I said, my smile unwavering.

Her eyes darted between mine and Jack’s before nodding sharply, as she slipped back into the crowd without putting up a fight.

“Ouch,” Jack said beside me, and I glared at him.

“What?” I snapped.

“Nothing,” he replied, suppressing a smile.

Smart move on his part. It’s not that Jack wasn’t allowed to hit on other girls, or anything. I just didn’t need anyone distracting my bodyguard just in case something were to happen to me. It was a matter of personal security and nothing else, okay? Pure and simple logic. Besides, freshmen weren’t welcome at senior parties. I don’t care what lame excuse she was going to conjure up to try to stay.

We made our way past the staircase and into the first living room on the right. There were plastic cups scattered across the floor and empty pizza boxes shoved into the corners of the room. I had no idea where the furniture had gone, but Brendan had clearly moved it so that he could accommodate the large amount of drunken teens gyrating against one another. A Nicki Minaj song was now blaring through the house, and the people surrounding us all had their hands up in the air, waving them around and fist pumping. The room was dark aside from disco lights that had been put up on all four corners of the room, and the glow-stick necklaces wrapped around a group of boys whose Ralph Lauren polo shirts were well on their way off their bodies. I scanned the room for Brendan and Meghan, coming up short. I had no clue where my friends were either, and calling them up would be useless over this music. Parties suck.

“GIA!”

I spun around and came face-to-face with Lincoln Foster, smiling back at me in the dim lighting. Lincoln was one of the nicest guys in the school and truthfully also one of the best looking. And if that wasn’t good enough, Lincoln was an actor, trying to break into the business. He had been in a few movies, usually playing the role of someone’s son or another’s best friend. He wasn’t an extra, but hardly a leading man. I had had a bit of a crush on him back in the day, but after we became good friends I ruled him out as an option. It was actually a surprise that he was at the party. Brendan didn’t like him very much, on account of him being way more successful with his acting gigs. Clearly jealousy was a reoccurring pattern with my boyfriend.

“HEY LINCOLN!”

I didn’t even bother introducing Jack; I assumed he knew. Jack had been the only thing LAC Elite had talked about all week.

“YOU LOOKING FOR BRENDAN?”

“NO THANKS. I’M NOT THIRSTY.”

Lincoln raised his eyebrows in confusion.

“I’LL GO TELL THE DJ TO TURN THE MUSIC DOWN.”

I didn’t know why he was going to sell CJ a tunic gown, but I smiled and nodded, pretending that I had heard what he was saying. Luckily it seemed to be an acceptable answer, because he nodded in reply, turned on his heel and disappeared in the crowd. I shrugged and turned to Jack, not knowing what to do next. I was far from being in a partying mood, and there still seemed to be no sign of my friends or Brendan among the growing number of partyers. Unfortunately, there was also no sign of Meghan, which was always an issue. That girl is a slippery little thing.

A group of guys I only half recognized pushed past us roughly, knocking me backward into Jack. He moved a little closer to me to let the crowd through, slipping his hand into mine as he pulled to the left a little. My heart rate increased almost immediately to the danger zone, and I was pretty certain there was no way it was ever coming down. Of course Jack wasn’t bothered by it all; he had only done it to move me out of the way. I clearly didn’t have the same effect on him that he did on me, two thousand dollar dress on or not.

I allowed myself three more seconds of pure bliss before pulling my hand out of his grasp and taking the biggest step back that I could in the tiny space around us.

“What are you doing?” I yelled over the music. Thankfully the volume seemed to have reduced, so my ears weren’t in so much pain.

Jack gave me a confused look and said, “What?” I held up the hand he had been holding a few seconds before and waved it at him. He realized what I meant and leaned in so I could hear him. “Gia I’m a bodyguard, remember? I can’t keep you safe if I lose you in the crowd.”

It was a very logical response. Hard to argue with logic, but tell that to my raging hormones.

“You can keep me safe without touching me!”

Jack rolled his eyes as if he couldn’t believe how unlucky he was, and I couldn’t even blame him. It’s not like I wanted to be mean to Jack. It just sort of came out. It was my brain’s way of making sure I didn’t accidently fall in love with him. But obviously Jack didn’t know that. From his eyes, I was just throwing a whole lot of crazy at him and for no reason. No wonder the guy was so desperate to go back to New York.

“Hey, babe!” Some random guy I had never seen suddenly swung his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close to him. “I swear I wasn’t making out with her! She was making out with me. I was the victim!”

I widened my eyes in alarm and looked at Jack, who was trying not to laugh. I mouthed help at him but he shook his head, an infuriating smile on his face. Really? He was just going to stand there and not do anything? So much for his secret service bullshit.

“Um, do I know you?” I asked, pulling away from the guy in disgust. He smelled like what I could only imagine was cat litter.

He looked at me, his eyes drooping a little. His hair looked completely dishevelled and he had a joint in between his lips, only it didn’t look lit. He eyed me up and down, raising an eyebrow. He had a red plastic cup in one hand, with more than one ring resting on each of his fingers.

“My b. I thought you were my girl!” the guy said loudly, so that I could hear him over the music and drunken cheers.

His B? I looked at Jack, who was still smiling at me. He nodded at me, giving me a look that said go for it. Great. I was being groped by some creep who had his hands all over my extremely expensive outfit, and it was all happening in front of Jack’s eyes. By the looks of it, the night was on the right track to crashing and burning.

“We have to go,” I declared. “But I’ll take that.”

I reached over and grabbed the cup from his hand, pushing through the crowd before anyone could stop me. I had no idea if Jack was following me or not, but given his freaky bodyguard conduct, I figured he’d be close behind. When I finally managed to squeeze my way out of the living room and into the main hall, where there was a little more space, I took a deep breath and sipped at whatever was in the red cup.

“Oh God . . .” I sputtered, feeling the liquid burning as it eased down my throat. It tasted disgusting, whatever it was.

It seemed to be a mix of something, most likely some type of cleaning liquid and straight up rat poison. Given how sketchy that guy had looked, it wouldn’t be surprising if whatever I was drinking had been conjured up in his basement. But I was going to need something strong if I was going to make it through the party. Jack’s presence was making little things seem like a bigger deal than they were. How many of these stupid parties had I already been to? How many times had I forced myself to sip a drink and pretend I liked it? How many times had I watched the people around me completely destroy their livers, and at times, pieces of furniture? None of it was new, but with Jack there, it felt like I was suffocating.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Jack said, watching me force another few sips down.

I gagged, forcing more down my throat. “Yes.”

Thankfully the music in the main hall was even softer than before, so I could actually hear what he was saying at an almost normal volume. I had no idea where the DJ was, but I could see speakers all around the house. Brendan’s mansion was absolutely huge, so the DJ could have been in any one of the several living rooms open to the party animals. Even Lincoln seemed to have disappeared without a trace.

I placed the drink down on a nearby table. Half a cup of liquid death was enough for one night. A group of people who were standing in a kind of circle near the far corner of the room were all cheering loudly. I waited until a bunch of girls, who I recognized from a lower year level, finished stumbling past Jack and me, before looking over at the group.

“What are they doing?” Jack asked, watching them in confusion.

“Suck and blow,” I replied, the bitter taste of the drink still lingering on my tongue.

Jack looked at me, widening his eyes. His corner of his lips curved up into a half-smile. “Excuse me?”

I gave him a disgusted look and said, “Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s a card game! Haven’t you ever seen Clueless?”

“Does it look like I’ve seen Clueless?”

Jack turned his attention back to the group of cheering teenagers, who were clearly encouraging two people making out passionately. At least I knew almost everyone playing the game, only now I wish I hadn’t. They looked like idiots.

“You suck in air so that the card sticks to your lips,” I explained. “And then you pass it on to the person next to you, blowing out air so that it sticks to their lips. Suck. And. Blow.”

I pointed at two girls who were demonstrating exactly what I had just said.

“So what happens if you drop the card?” Jack asked.

“You have to kiss.”

Jack looked at me, an impressed look on his face. “That’s creative.”

Creative wasn’t exactly how I’d put it, but sure. Creative was a good path to go down.

“Oh, hey Gia!” I heard someone say, and saw Charlie Kingston coming right toward me in a top with the world’s lowest neckline. There almost wasn’t even a point to wearing anything on top. It wasn’t really covering much.

Charlie Kingston’s father is a big time music producer, and not the sketchy type that Aria talks to. Like an actual music producer. She was always going on about that one time Ariana Grande invited her to her birthday party, or how hot Robin Thicke looks over brunch. Don’t get me wrong, I like the girl. Only I don’t really like her. It’s kind of like talking to Kate Upton. I mean, sure she’s stunning and sweet and all. But did she have to be that good looking and nice, all in one go? Someone like that has to be hiding some huge skeleton in her closet. Maybe she was addicted to smelling shampoo or something. The other shoe has got to drop at some point.

“Hey Charlie,” I said, giving her a half-assed smile. “Great dress!”

What little there was of it, of course.

“Thanks Gia! Did you want to play?” Charlie asked, motioning toward the group Jack and I had been watching.

“Uh, no thanks,” I said. “I’m good.”

Charlie nodded and looked at Jack, smiling at him hopefully. “What about you?”

Jack looked at me and then back at Charlie. I glared at him, making sure his gaze didn’t drop any lower than her nose. Boy, was I going to unleash hell if that happened.

“Oh no, I’m okay. Thanks,” Jack replied politely.

“Oh come on!” Charlie said, tilting her head to one side so that her blonde curls tumbled all the way down to her hip. “It’ll be fun!”

“Wel—”

“He’s very busy!” I cut in, and Jack looked at me with an amused smile. “Very, very busy. So busy.”

Charlie looked at me uncertainly and said, “Um, okay?”

“Maybe later,” Jack said.

“But then again, maybe not,” I quickly added. So busy, I mouthed, giving her an innocent smile.

“Cool,” Charlie said, looking at me like I had lost my mind. “Well, you know where to find me.”

She winked at him and walked off without even acknowledging my existence. I watched her through narrowed eyes. You know where to find me? Oh please. I did know where to find her, and it was nowhere classy.

“What was that?” Jack asked. I crossed my arms over my chest defensively, bag still in hand.

“What?” I replied, shrugging nonchalantly. “I was doing you a favor.”

Jack raised an eyebrow and said, “Oh really?”

“You don’t want to go there, trust me,” I told him. “For health reasons. Bad idea.”

Okay, so that was a total lie. Not a total lie, because she really did get around, so the chances of a rash were high. But a little exaggeration never killed anyone.

Jack looked like he wasn’t buying a word of it, his smile unwavering. “Oh.”

“You’re welcome.”

A girl I didn’t know walked past holding a Jell-O shot in one hand. I pulled it out of her reach as she approached us, gulping it down without thinking twice about it.

“What the hell?” she said, as I placed the empty glass back in her hand.

“Enjoy the party,” I told her.

Hey, it was my boyfriend’s house. I could do whatever the hell I wanted. And by the looks of it, I was in the mood to make extremely bad life choices. Jack rolled his eyes again and wrapped his hand around my wrist, pulling me away from the girl. This time I didn’t bother yelling at him for touching me.

“Where are we going?” I asked Jack.

“Somewhere quiet!” Jack replied. I guess he took the lack of a tantrum as a go sign, because his hand trailed down from my wrist and slipped into my hand as he slowed down to let a few people squish past us.

I looked down at our hands, our fingers intertwined. The birth of my first-born child would probably not match up to how it felt holding onto Jack’s hand right after he had met someone like Charlie Kingston. The heavens above really did have an angel watching over me, and boy, that angel was doing one heck of a job.

I mentally slapped myself and pulled my eyes away from our hands. I was at my own boyfriend’s party, daydreaming about some other guy’s hand! I was a terrible person and there was no denying it.

“I’M DRUNK BITCHES!”

A random guy wearing a Hawaiian printed shirt and a Rasta hat with fake dreadlocks attached to it jumped in front of us with his hands in the air, clutching what seemed to be a Ukulele in one of them. Jack came to a sudden halt and I crashed into his back, steadying myself on my heels. Was it legal for Jack to smell that good? Probably not. Plus, the basement deluxe drink I had downed wasn’t settling well with my mind. The Ukulele guy high-fived someone next to him and started chanting the lyrics to the Flo Rida song playing. Jack turned to me and grinned, as if he couldn’t believe he was actually at a party like this. I shrugged. I’d seen all this before.

Jack opened the door directly to his right, and having been to Brendan’s house many times before, I knew it was one of many lavish bathrooms in the house.

“Oh! Sorry . . .”

Aria and some attractive, slightly exotic guy were sitting on the edge of the empty bath, passionately making out.

“Hey Gia,” she said, slightly breathlessly.

“Hey. Who’s this?” I asked, glancing at the guy adjusting his shirt.

“Oh,” Aria said, looking at him with a sheepish smile. “This is . . . uh . . .”

I widened my eyes expectantly. She didn’t even know the guy’s name! Typical Aria.

“Marco,” he said, with an awkward wave and a slight Italian accent.

“Marco.” Aria repeated, with a firm nod. “He’s from Spain.”

“Italy.” He corrected her.

“Oh, Italy.”

“Right, well nice to meet you Marco.” Jack said, giving me a sideways look.

“Hey, have you seen Brendan?” I asked, still holding onto Jack’s hand.

“No, sorry. Try the kitchen? He was there with the caterers before.”

“We’ll leave you to it then.” Jack told her.

I mouthed nice work to Aria, motioning to Marco who was looking at his feet, and just managed to catch her wink before Jack closed the door.

“Marco seems nice.” Jack said, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the music.

I just smiled. Aria always ended up with some amazing stranger at parties, it was just who she was. What did I always end up with? Putting a drunk Brendan to bed while he sang the Friends theme song and completely missed the part where you clap.

“Let’s try this room,” Jack said, more to himself than me, pushing open the door a little ahead of us.

Again from experience, I already knew that the room was for guests. I’d only ever been in it once, the first time I had come to Brendan’s house. I remember falling in love with the golden lampshades and secretly wondering if I could sneak out with one if I hid it under my shirt. I didn’t try it though; Brendan was with me the whole time.

“Finally,” Jack sighed, closing the door behind us and releasing my hand. “I can actually hear myself think.”

“Why are we in the bedroom?” I asked, taking a step away from him. “Brendan was in the kitchen, remember?”

The music was still loud, but at least it was muffled enough that we could have a conversation without shouting. I did some heavy breathing and reminded myself that Jack was just a guy, and not especially crafted by Baby J just for me. The bedroom atmosphere wasn’t helping though. Jack moved toward the bed and sat down on the edge of it, eyeing the contents of the room with an impressed look on his face.

“Beef boy’s got a nice house,” he remarked, caressing the silk bed sheet beneath him.

“Yeah, it’s . . . yeah.” I put my bag on the table closest to me, tucking my hair behind my ear.

I was starting to regret those drinks I had conveniently downed out of spite and anxiety. I suddenly remembered I hadn’t eaten anything since the afternoon, which probably hadn’t helped. Jack raised his eyebrow at me, and I shifted from one foot to another nervously. I couldn’t help it. His cologne was freaking amazing!

“Where is beef boy anyway?” Jack asked, rising from the bed.

“Kitchen. I don’t know. I should go check.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Jack said, looking at me suspiciously. “I’ve called Brendan ‘beef boy’ twice and you haven’t said anything.”

I fiddled with the ends of my hair and looked at the ground, reminding myself to breathe normally.

“Uh, hello? Are you listening to me?” Jack said.

Oh lord. I was going off the rails, and there was no coming back. Abort plan. Abort plan!

“Uh, mother must be calling us for tea and crumpets! I should check the parlour and find out.”

Oh crap. I slapped a hand across my mouth and gave Jack a horrified look. His smile widened and he stifled a laugh.

“Um, do I want to know what that was?”

I continued to stare at him with my hand stopping me from saying anything else that would make me look appalling stupid. That’s it. I had reached the peak of embarrassment. There was no coming down from that. Ever.

“Gia?”

“I just—it’s nothing.”

Okay that was a lie. When I was in fifth grade, there was a British guy in my class called David. He was my first crush, besides Nick Carter of course, and I was convinced I was going to marry him. Things didn’t go down too well for that plan though. I only ever spoke to him twice, and the first time all I said was a meek “hello.” The second time, we were paired to do an assignment and I was so terrified that I barely said anything to him at all for three lessons. Finally, when he was getting kind of weirded out by me, I rambled on for twenty minutes about things I liked about England in an atrocious British accent. I talked about everything from telephone booths to the Queen, all in a ridiculous accent. It turned out he was Irish, and the only Queen he liked was the band.

He ended up requesting another partner, and eventually moved schools in the next year, hopefully not because of me. But ever since then, I automatically put on a British accent and-slash-or talk about English things every time I get overwhelmingly nervous.

“Earth to Gia?”

I snapped out of my flashback and lowered my hand, still gaping at Jack. The British accent hadn’t come out in a while, but it had returned with a bang.

“Yeah, sorry. I just go a little British when I’m nervous. It’s a long story.”

Jack stared at me blankly for a few seconds, biting his bottom lip. He looked like he was doing some internal reasoning, but wasn’t winning the battle. Jack finally began laughing, unable to keep it in any longer. He was laughing so hard; he had to put one hand on the bed to support him.

“British!” He managed to say in between laughs.

“What!” I cried. “Stop laughing at me!”

I had intended for it come off a lot angrier, but watching Jack laugh made me want to laugh too. I only managed a smile and a little giggle, before Jack began composing himself and I forced the happiness off my face.

“Oh my gosh,” Jack groaned, wiping a tear from under his eye. “You’re unbelievable.”

“It’s not a big deal!” I argued. “Sometimes when I’m just a little nervous it pops out! Whatever!”

“Wait!” Jack cocked his head to one side, his smile turning to a thoughtful look. “So I make you nervous?”

It was the perfect opportunity to smash a fantastic comeback in his face, and remind him how unimportant he really was. Instead, I gulped and took a step backward toward the door.

“Of course not.”

Jack took a tiny step closer. “Really?”

Oh lordy.

“Wow,” I said. “It’s hot in here! Is it really hot in here? Or is that just me? Because I kind of feel like you’re hot. I mean, it’s hot.”

Jack’s lips curved into a half-smile. He was enjoying the effect he had on me. No way I could stay in that room for a second longer, I didn’t trust myself. Practically launching myself at the door handle, I swung the door open, crashing right into Brendan in the process. I pushed the hair out of my face, painfully twisting my ankle on my stiletto heels. That wasn’t about to stop me though. The babbling had already begun.

“Oh my gosh! There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Like everywhere!” I practically shouted at Brendan, throwing my hands straight up in the air like a maniac.

“Uh,” he said, looking a little taken aback by my over enthusiasm. “Hey.”

This was not going well. Brendan looked kind of scared of me, Jack’s cologne had taken up permanent residency in my nose and I still had my hands in the air like a deranged person. Obviously nothing had happened between Jack and I, but from where Brendan was standing, I was flustered and leaving a bedroom with the guy he currently hated most.

“Hey man,” Jack greeted Brendan awkwardly. “Great party.”

“What are you guys doing?” Brendan said, ignoring Jack.

I glanced at the empty plate Brendan was holding in his left hand.

“We were . . . looking for food.”

“In the bedroom?”

“Yeah. The guy with the ukulele said there was some in here.”

I sent my mental apologies to “Ukulele guy” for throwing him under the bus. But desperate times called for desperate measures. I turned to Jack uncertainly, who was looking at the floor. What a load of help he was.

“Well you just missed out. The fried dumplings finished a second ago.” Brendan said slowly, looking from me to Jack.

Unfortunately, the music’s volume was significantly lower now so I couldn’t pretend that I couldn’t hear anything to get out of this conversation.

“Listen,” Brendan leaned in closer. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure!” I cried, clasping my hands together as though I had been told we were going to Disneyland.

“I’ll let you have a minute,” Jack said, nodding at me and pushing past Brendan. “I’ll be right outside.”

He emphasized the word “right,” as a reminder that he was still my bodyguard and I couldn’t go crazy and run off when he wasn’t looking. I watched him leave in agony. All week I had been dying for a moment without Jack, and suddenly I desperately wanted him back in the room. Brendan shut the room door behind him, and I realized I hadn’t had enough to drink.

“Nice outfit!” I said, giving Brendan a thumbs up.

I actually gave him a thumbs up. What was I, five? He looked down at his jeans, shirt and unbuttoned vest with a shrug.

“Uh, thanks. Listen, Gia, I get that Jack’s amazing and dreamy and stuff, but I don’t want to have to compete with anyone. So if something’s going on with you two, then just tell me.”

I gaped at him for a few seconds before forcing myself to form words. I couldn’t believe he was saying this after all the crap he pulled with Meghan.

“Brendan, nothing’s going on between us. We’re friends.”

“You don’t act like friends!”

“Yes we do!”

“He’s always around you! Like, always. Besides, I see the way you look at him.”

I crossed my arms over my chest defensively. I could feel my cheeks beginning to heat up, but I continued to keep the glare on my face.

“The way I look at him?” I repeated, angrily.

“Yes!” Brendan replied, as I heard a group of people laugh from behind the door. “And it’s really starting to piss me off!”

“Brendan, nothing is happening between me and Jack! I’ve only known him for like . . .” I trailed off, suddenly remembering the back-story I had told everyone. I was supposed to have known Jack for practically all my life.

“You’re lying,” Brendan replied, ignoring my almost slip-up.

I was beyond livid at that point. Brendan and Meghan could play footsies all day, but I want to rip off one guy’s clothes and suddenly I’m the bad guy? What the hell kind of double standard is that!

“This is ridiculous!” I exclaimed, uncrossing my arms.

“Yeah, it is!”

“Well what about Meghan?”

“What about her?” Brendan replied, giving a frustrated sigh.

“You two don’t exactly have a sibling relationship!”

“God, Gia!” Brendan cried. “Why are you so insecure?”

My jaw dropped so low, I was scared I had lost it forever. Insecure? Had he really just called me insecure? Brendan couldn’t deal with Jack for one freaking lunch because he was so paranoid, and he hated Lincoln because he couldn’t even land himself a pathetic cheese commercial! And I was the insecure one?

“You know what?” I said, shooting daggers at him with my eyes. “I hope you and Meghan are very happy together. My insecurities and I will be just fine without you.”

“Gia—” Brendan said, reaching for my arm to stop me.

“Seriously Brendan, just—”

I felt his hand slip away from my arm and heard a loud thump behind me. I spun around just as Brendan went crashing to the floor. The empty platter in his hand landed with a heavy thud next to him on the carpet, and he grasped onto the bed sheet as he went down.

“BRENDAN!” I shrieked, dropping to my knees beside him.

His body was shaking; his eyes rolled over inside his head. He looked like he was being possessed by some demonic presence. Sure, I may have learned a medical term or two from watching all those episodes of Grey’s Anatomy, but I was no expert. Mostly I just watched it for the scandalous romances. I jumped up and thrust the door open in a panic. Brendan’s body had become alarmingly still, and his grip on the bed sheet loosened as his hand dropped lifelessly.

“SOMEBODY HELP!” I shouted, watching a sea of surprised faces turn to look at me.

Jack, who really was standing right outside like he said, raised an eyebrow. “What happened Gia? What’s the matter?” he asked.

I scanned the room, my head spinning. Everything seemed to be in slow motion, and those drinks were really messing up my head. I could see Jack’s lips forming my name, more urgently this time, but everything seemed to be happening in a different dimension.

“Brendan.” I whispered.

“What happened? Did he hurt you?” Jack demanded, eyeing the bedroom.

“No.” I said. “I—I think . . .”

“Gia?”

“I think he’s dead.”