I sighed. “Guilty.”

Noah’s gaze held mine, and I could see disappointment there. I knew he’d disapproved of Brax but just never said anything. Not that it was his place to. “You just be careful, Olivia. Those parties can get pretty rowdy.”

“No worries there,” I assured. “I’m the least rowdy person you’ll ever meet.”

“That’s why you had that black eye, right?” Steven said with a grin. “’Cause you’re so un-rowdy?”

I glared. “I was thrown from a horse, goof.”

He shrugged. “See? Who does that? Rowdy people.”

Noah laughed, but it was soft and half-hearted. “Seriously, Olivia.” He closed in on me then, sort of blocking Steven, and the look in his eyes was filled with sincerity and a little worry. “There’s usually a lot of drinking. A lot of pranks. Like,” he looked up, thinking. “Stephen King, Carrie pranks. Pig blood dumped on poor prom queen pranks. So please.” His large hand squeezed my shoulder. “Watch yourself.”

I gave Noah a smile. “Thanks, boss. I will.”

We finished our work after that, and I ignored Steven’s disapproving head-shake as I left the observatory. Although it was still somewhat daylight outside, I knew a single headlamp wouldn’t be following me back to the dorm. Still, I checked my rear-view mirror, and for what reason other than habit, or possibly hope, I didn’t know. The second I stepped into mine and Tessa’s room, though, she squealed, leapt off the bed and grabbed my hand.

“You know what’s so phenomenally epic about Halloween parties?” she asked.

“Not really.”

Tessa popped me in the head. “Disguise, chica.” The smile on her face was pure devilment. “No one knows who you are if you do it right.” She patted my hair. “Which is why we’re going to do you famously right. As long as you’re still wanting to do this?”

I inhaled, exhaled. “Yeah, I’m sure.” I looked at her. “I have to know, Tessa. He plagues me.” I stared at spot of carpet between my feet. “Day. Night. He’s in my brain.” I looked up. “Boring a hole in my noodle, and I’m sick of it disrupting my life. I want to ask him why. Why … he did what he did.”

“And you think that will settle you? And that he’ll tell you?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe by catching him off guard, he will.”

Tessa inclined her head to the bed. “Well have a seat and let’s get started.” A mysterious glint sparked in her eyes. “I’ve just the costume for you, darling, so let’s get our asses moving. We’re meeting Marcie and Kelly at eight and I’ve got a small miracle to perform here.”

“Wow, how comforting.”

Tessa smacked me once more. “Shut your cake hole and be still.”

Two hours later, I stood in front of the mirror, shocked. Lifting my hand, I grazed my cheeks with my fingertips. “This is not really me.”

Tessa laughed. “Yes it is, and stop touching yourself.” She snorted. “Eww, weird. Anyway, I told you I was a miracle-maker. Just getting all that crazy ass hair you have semi-tamed and up in that stack was a miracle in itself. Now slip these wings on and you’re all set.”

What stared back at me from the bathroom mirror was more than a miracle. It was a piece of living, breathing fantasy art. As I held my bare arms out, Tessa slid a pair of gauzy, white feathery angel wings over my arms and hooked them together between my shoulder blades. They were short and appeared to stick straight out of my spine. Paired with the slinky silvery blue mini dress and silver strappy heels, I looked as though I’d fallen out of some alternate heaven. Tessa had applied glittery silver shadow to my eyes that swept out at the corners to swirl over my cheekbones, long false lashes, and silvery blue lipstick. I definitely did not look like me.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked. I looked at my roommate, with her painted Day of the Dead face and short black mini dress. “Brax might not even be there.”

“Perfectly sure,” Tessa assured. “And if he’s not, Ash will be and we’ll have a great time. Now let’s go.”

Butterflies rammed my insides as we loaded into Marcie’s Range Rover and headed over to the Sigma Chi house. This was so totally out of character for me; not only with the costume, but the approach. I hated that Brax’s abrupt and painful split from me hurt so bad—bad enough that I had a difficult time concentrating on my studies. I wanted—no, needed—to know why. He owed me that much. And for once, I wasn’t going to stand for anything less. Could I have tried to obtain this information without the whole blitz gig? Probably. But despite Brax’s harsh exterior and brass accent, he was far more intelligent than most granted him. And my simply approaching him would never have worked. He would have made excuses. This way, he’d probably have a little alcohol in him, and he wouldn’t know it was me until it was too late. At least, that was my rationale. I hoped to God it worked because I couldn’t take much more of this. The not-knowing. The endless what-if that beleaguered me at every turn, awake or asleep. It was driving me nuts.

By the time we pulled up into the already-jammed yard full of vehicles at the Sigma Chi house, my nerves were fried. My gaze scoured the parked cars. I didn’t see Cory’s Camaro. I didn’t see Brax’s bike. And part of me felt relieved. God, I was so confused; I didn’t know what to do. And it was driving me insane.

Halloween night proved to be classic; full moon, dark clear skies, and the temperature had dropped to the mid-fifties. I shivered as we climbed from the Rover, my arms and legs bared to the elements. Orange and black lights had been strung from the front porch; all manner of monsters and zombies and slutty costumes littered the lawn, and laughter cracked the otherwise still night.

“Come on, chica,” Tessa said, and looped her arm through mine. She tugged me along as we hurried across the lawn to the front porch, and I pressed against her as we entered the house. Metallica blared from the surround sound, and it was literally wall-to-wall with people. Tessa scoured the crowded room, then looked at me. “Over there!” she hollered. “Let’s go!”

In a line, Tessa, Marcie, and Kelly, with me sandwiched between Tess and Marcie, wormed our way over to the far wall facing a small cleared area where a make-shift stage and mic stood. The noise deafened me: laughter, music, loud conversation. Couples dancing, making out. It was like a scene from an old eighties college slasher movie.

“Okay, Kelly, let’s go get drinks,” Tessa yelled. “You guys hold our place!”

Marcie and I watched the girls weave through the crowd until they disappeared.

“This is so wild!” Marcie hollered happily. “Oh my god!”

I laughed and shook my head, not nearly as enthused as Marcie with the party environment, and involuntarily I began to search the party-goers for Brax. Death—literally, someone garbed in a Death costume—made his way through, goosing females with his foam sickle. I prayed he stayed far away from us. Still, my eyes explored, and it was so hard to distinguish people. How would I ever find him? How stupid was I? I’d dressed up so he wouldn’t recognize me. Didn’t I for one second think he’d be difficult to find, too? Lord.

A disco ball twirled from the ceiling, and flickers of light darted through the semi-darkness, and it was then someone took the stage—which was nothing more than than a few stacked pallets. A spotlight swung toward himHe was dressed in a full-suited black tuxedo and his face was painted in black and white, like a skeleton. He cleared his throat and banged his hand against the mic, and the music lowered.

“Ooh, this must be the costume contest I heard about!” Marcie leaned close and said loudly. “Epic!”

“Excuse me, assholes, could you all please shut the ever-living hell up? I have an announcement.” The chatter lowered, too. “Why, thank you. Now, as you might have heard, the typically fucktabulous Jenks failed miserably at what most would’ve considered an easy task. But then again, he’s a Kappa, not a Sigma.” He shielded his eyes against the spotlight, searching the crowd. Jenks, if you’re out there, you sadden me, bro. And here we all had applauded you for completing your Kappa Phi Dare before time was up. Instead, you were duped, which is really kind of embarrassing, given your rep, man.” He shook his head. “Goddammit is all I can say, my friend. Godfuckingdammit.”

Boos filled the room. Dare? I looked at Marcie, who shrugged, and my eyes went back to the skeleton at the mic. What was he talking about? My eyes scanned the crowd, searching for Brax. I didn’t see him in the throng of partiers filling the room. It was then I noticed a few other guys dressed in tuxes with skull face paint. What the hell?

Just then, Tessa knocked into me and grabbed my arm. Her eyes were wide, filled with worry. “Olivia, we have to go. Now.” She began to pull me.

“No, Tess, wait—”

“Olivia!” Tessa said. “Brax—oh my god, it was all a hoax!” She tugged harder. “I’ll explain later. Come on!” I resisted, though, my eyes still searching for Brax.

The skeleton speaker continued. “So since Jenks nailed the poor little self-proclaimed virgin cowgirl, only to find out she’s the Gutter Fuck—remember that live feed, guys?” The crowd roared, and the skeleton laughed, and my stomach dropped to my feet as realization slowly penetrated my frozen brain. “We had to challenge a Sigma Chi brother to a new task.” He scanned the crowd again. “Bro, if you’re out there, you’re disqualified!”

“Olivia, dammit, please!” Tessa yanked hard on my arm, but I stood my ground. More boos filled the air, and a girl approached the skeleton speaker and said something in his ear. He then looked in my direction, then directly at me, and then I noticed Kelsy standing beside the girl. He draped his arm over her and grinned.

“Oh, f**k me, will you look over there!” the skeleton yelled. The spotlight swung toward me, and I squinted at its blinding brightness.

“Oh, shit,” Tessa growled.

The guy laughed and pointed with his mic. “Now that’s a good sport right there, guys. Cowgirl, you lost your cherry a long time ago, but you got one big set of balls, darlin’! Gutter fuck? You look like an angel to me! You busy next weekend—ugh!”

The skeleton went down as Brax lunged out of nowhere, swung, and made the guy’s head jerk sideways with a forceful fist to the jaw. Brax wasn’t in any sort of costume like the other fraternity brothers. He was in jeans and a tee shirt. The crowd erupted, the light swung off of me and onto the two frat brothers. A sea of partiers closed in around them as they fought, and I could no longer see Brax. Only his fist as he raised it, smashed it back down.

The words sunk in as the crowd erupted into cheers. My head swam, and everything around me blurred. Poor little unsuspecting self-proclaimed virgin cowgirl. I was Brax’s dare. Bang ’em and leave ’em. From that very first day, Brax had lied. No wonder he’d taken off and left me. My gaze then lifted and Brax had left the fighting circle and was there, staring dead at me, not two feet away, his chest rising and falling harshly with heavy breaths. I felt frozen, unable to move and cold as ice inside. Unable to breathe. Those haunting blue eyes of his stared hard at me, unreadable, frightening. In the next second, Tessa shoved him and began guiding me toward the door. People knocked into me, my body jerked, but I didn’t really feel anything. Suddenly, I felt as though I was trapped, caged in an airless box, and I yanked my arm from Tessa and pushed through the crowd. Behind me, above the laughter and humiliating chanting of gutter fuck, I heard Brax’s frantic, guttural yell.

“Gracie! Stop!”

I didn’t stop, though, and when I hit the front door the chilly night air slapped my bare arms and legs as I rushed onto the porch, past other partiers and down the steps onto the lawn. I ran, best I could in Tessa’s heels, those gauzy little angel wings flapping at my shoulders, until a force stopped me in my tracks. Steel fingers wrapped around my wrist, my body spun around. Brax stood there, his strong hand holding onto me, his face contorted into fury and pain.

“Gracie, Jesus, I’m so f**king sorry. You don’t know the whole story.” He stepped toward me, not letting go of my hand, his voice edgy. “I tried to stop it, swear to God. Please. Just hear me out.”

Brax’s words hit me like a solid punch to the gut. Shock and anger that he’d been a part of such a low prank churned inside of me, turned to hurt, more humiliation. He’d known about it all along. I’d come to this stupid Halloween Blitz to approach Brax, to find out the truth, and the weight of his deception pressed heavy and suffocating against my chest.

I was sick of being a door mat. The butt of jokes. Of being disgraced. Of giving my trust and having it yanked away.

Every raw emotion within me collided, and without another thought, I closed my free fist tight, reared my arm back and swung as hard as I could. My knuckles connected with Brax’s steel-boned jaw, and his head snapped back in surprise. My hand exploded into white-hot pain, but I didn’t care. I didn’t give a damn, not anymore, and tears free-fell down my cheeks as I leveled my angered gaze to Brax’s.

“You can shove your lame apologies!” My voice held even, steady, belying just how rattled I truly was.

“Jesus, Gracie, your hand!” He reached for it, and I pulled back.

I turned, tried to run, and he caught me, pulled me hard against him. The heat from his body seeped through the gauzy material of the dress I wore and clung to my skin, and part of me still wanted to lean on him, melt into him. I wanted all of this to be wrong, a big mistake. I wanted it to have never happened at all. But it had. And I’d been had. Again.