Her glare hardens a moment before she rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Wasn’t the first time a girl with a chip on her shoulder punched me in the face.”

My mouth turns into a grin and hers follows.

“Okay, so since we’re all good now, can we get outta here?”

The three of us pile in the rear of the Tahoe while a handful of other girls fill the middle seats and front.

“We’re going to hit my house, get sexed up and go dancing!” the driver announces before spinning to face me. “I’m Mello by the way.”

I wave, glancing to Vienna who nods lightly, meaning she’s cool.

Mello’s house is only a few blocks from the school, so we’re piling into her room – a pool house built a solid hundred yards away from the main house.

One of the girls starts pouring shots for us while Mello begins tossing random dresses onto the couch.

And just like that, the other girls, Victoria and Vienna included, start stripping and trying on things my mother would die for.

Me? Not so much.

“Here.”

I turn and take a plastic shot glass full of something from a redheaded girl.

“I’m Bre.”

“Rae.”

She giggles, pointing to the side of the cup, where she wrote my name in Sharpie. “I know.”

She doesn’t stand there long enough to see me frown, disappearing to pass shots to the rest of the girls.

I down the contents then set the cup on the coffee table. Glancing around, I’m instantly aware I’m out of my comfort zone.

I should have stayed at the game, waited for the guys.

Watched the girls flock Maddoc.

Wait, no. I don’t care.

I roll my eyes at my own damn self.

“Rae, come back here!” Mello calls from around the corner, which is really just a solid wall that separates the bedroom from the living room area.

She smiles, pulling a tiny skirt over her hips. “I thought you might want to pick something else out. You don’t strike me as the dress type.”

“Not at all.”

“That’s a shame.” She looks me over. “Your fit, bet you’d kill in one.”

I don’t say anything, and she shrugs, turning to her closet.

“I have tons of jeans in here, some tanks or more dressy shirts.” She glances over her shoulder, frowning when she sees mine.

She walks over.

“Look, this might not be your usual thing, dressing up and all, but there’s nothing wrong with that. Nobody will think you’re being a poser or whatever if you get dolled up with us, not that that’s your concern but still. And you can even do it as you. Give me ten minutes and if you hate it, we scratch it and you can wear what you have on.” She gestures to my hoodie, jeans and used Hirachis. “The club isn’t strict on dress code, it’s whatever really, so either way you’re fine.”

I’m trying to figure out her angle here. Why, would a pretty girl like her, wanna help me “sex up” as she called it. My mind screams set up, but my senses tell me this is just how friends – not that she’s mine – do things in a normal high school world. I mean a world where high schoolers have fancy cars and closets the size of my trailer and clubs they can get into.

“No glittery shit,” I tell her.

She squeals, moving back to the closet. “I have the perfect outfit in mind.”

The shot girl makes her way back, handing me a refilled cup.

“All right.” I pull my hoodie over my head and kick my shoes off. “Hit me with it.”

“Okay girls!” Mello turns around in the front passenger seat. “If you leave with someone, make sure at least one of us knows so we aren’t searching at the end of the night. We can swap clothes back Sunday. We’ll have brunch.”

She kisses the cheek of the dude she had drive us and we all climb out, making our way to the door of a place called The Tower.

“Don’t say a word, girls, and they’ll open the gate,” Mello tells us.

Vienna links her arm through mine, pulling on the hem of her dress.

“This thing rides up with each step.”

“Exhibit A why I don’t do dresses.”

She laughs. “Yeah, well. We can’t all pull off a pair of skinny jeans like you.”

“Okay, quiet,” Mello whispers and we step in front of the bouncers, bypassing the line completely.

“Mello, baby. Missed you last week.” The guy unclips the little rope blocking of his side of the door.

“Me too, Buck.” She leans over, kissing his cheek on her way past and we follow behind her.

The guy’s eyes narrow when they hit me, and he glances at his buddy quickly.

I keep quiet through the door, but peek behind after I’m down the hall a little, and wouldn’t you know both are staring this way.

“Catch you later!” Mello calls out and heads for the left side of the club with two of the other girls.

Me, Victoria, and Vienna, head right as the rest jump straight to the center to dance.

We get a few feet from the bar when Victoria spins around. “Okay, they won’t card us now that we’re inside, so bar’s ours if we want it. I have some cash but not enough for all of us to get drunk on.”

Vienna shrugs and glances around, smiling when she spots a guy staring at the end of the bar. “Don’t worry about me,” she says and walks off.

“Okay then.” Victoria snorts and turns back to me.

I pull two twenties from my back pocket, letting her know I’m covered.

We step up to the bar and give our order, but when the dude comes back with our drinks, he doesn’t take the money, only points to a group of guys at the nearby table.

The guy at the end leans back in his chair, and blond hair appears.

“Oh hell no.”

Collins waves two fingers and I yank Victoria’s drink from her hand.

“Hey!” she shouts and follows after me.

When I stop in front of their table, she yanks it back, glaring.

“Raven Carver.” Collins leans back with a grin. “Surprised to see you.” He glances around.

What he really means is he’s surprised to see me without the guys.

“We can pay for our own drinks.”

He looks to my cup. “Came straight front the bartender, it’s safe. And if you leave it, it’ll be wasted. No point in that.”

I look around seeing they’re all drinking beers like pussies.

I snag Victoria’s back, lift both our Jack on the rocks and fling the alcohol across their table.

“What the fuck?!” they shout.

I slam the glass tumblers on the table top and move back for the bar, signaling for two new drinks.

“What the hell, Raven?” Victoria complains, sliding up beside me. “That was free!”

“I’ll buy you another one. We’re not taking shit from him.”

She scoffs. “Look who’s feeding into all the Brayshaw and Graven shit now.”

I spin, getting in her face. “Brayshaw problems or not, Collins is a piece of shit. You want something from someone who will put hands on you without permission, be my fucking guest.”

I grab our fresh drinks and turn to hand her hers.

She eyes me warily. “Did he ... I mean, were you ...”