“Always,” she says, her black painted lips curving into a smirk. “Can we offer you something to drink? Eat? Smoke? Snort?”

“Nah, we’re good,” Vic says, lifting up the black vodka bottle and taking a swig. He passes it to me, so I can do the same, and then puts one big, skeleton-patterned hand on my shoulder. His breath teases my ear as he leans in. “Stay close tonight, babe.”

I shrug his hand off. I can take care of myself, but I’m also not stupid. My eyes scan the room for any signs of Mitch’s crew as I take a huge drink of the vodka. My head begins to swim with the kiss of alcohol as my gaze sweeps the grinding bodies of dancing students. The rest of the Havoc Boys clear paths through the crowd, looking for trouble.

The costumes tonight run the gamut, from the usual—vampires, serial killers, slutty nurses—to the unusual, like the girl in the red wig who’s dressed up like Yona from a reverse harem anime I watched with Penelope once called Yona of the Dawn.

“Eclectic crowd tonight,” I say, taking another drink of the vodka and passing it back to Vic. Without waiting for a response, I move into the thick of the crowd, the heat and the music enveloping me, drawing me in. The fog swirls around my ankles as I pause, examining the various rooms that lead branch off from the expansive foyer. It looks like the goddamn Casper house.

“They have a funhouse in here,” Cal says, appearing out of the smoke, the black hood of his sweatshirt thrown up over his hair. “Mirrors and clown shit. Good place for an ambush. Pretty sure they stole all the stuff from the old party store warehouse. But it’s also the only exit on the ground floor besides the front doors. Everything else is boarded-up or blocked.”

“I don’t like that,” Vic says, a muscle in his jaw working as he sighs. “Keep it clear and get some guys outside to watch it.” His body is tense as his ebon eyes scan the room. Not seeing Mitch or Kali or the rest of those assholes could be taken as some sort of concession, like maybe they’ve actually decided to back down, but I’m not sure that I believe it. I don’t think shooting Mitch is going to convince them to stop; I think it’s pissed them off royally. But then, that’s just my opinion. Havoc’s been at this a lot longer than I have.

I lick my painted lips and think about my list. No. 2. the best friend.

Kali is up to something; I can feel it.

“Anything else of note?” Vic asks, and Callum shakes his head. “Good. Stay sharp, but have a little fun, okay?”

“Oh, I intend to,” Cal says, reaching out and taking the vodka. He finishes the bottle off and tosses it aside, letting it shatter against the wall. He’s not the only one throwing glass bottles; everybody’s doing it. Intoxicated laughter poisons the air as he grabs my hand and pulls me into the crowd.

Vic looks decidedly pissed-off about it, but he doesn’t interfere.

“Every drug under the sun is available in here, and you’re more interested in dancing with me?” I ask as Cal wraps an arm around my waist and walks us back into the thick of the crowd. His smile is decidedly more wicked with those skeleton teeth painted across them, effectively doubling the size of his mouth.

“You’re a special sort of drug, too, Bernadette,” he tells me, leaning forward to put his mouth near my ear. “I keep wondering if I should’ve kissed you in the dance studio.” My skin prickles with goose bumps, but I don’t respond, letting Cal guide our bodies in a synchronous rhythm with the throbbing beat of the music. I don’t even recognize the song we’re dancing to, but it doesn’t matter. Callum knows what he’s doing, and he takes me with him, manipulating my body the same way he did in the studio. “If I had, what would you have done?”

“Guess you’ll have to run that experiment to find out?” I challenge, cocking a brow as my heart pounds. I’m not really sure what I’m doing here. What Vic means when he calls me his girl. What Aaron wants when he tells me he still loves me. What Callum intends by dancing with me in front of a mixed crowd from all three schools. Or what Hael thinks about when he’s looking at me with those honey-brown eyes of his. Oscar … clearly hates me, so there’s not much to dissect there.

“Oh?” Cal asks, but then Hael is interrupting the entire party by climbing onto the dais where the DJ’s set up. He requests a song, and there’s a brief pause as the DJ scrambles to accommodate his request.

“Who’s here to fuck shit up tonight?” he shouts, and the entire room goes nuts, lifting phones and bottles of liquor in solidarity. With a laugh, Hael lifts up a bottle of his own, swigs some liquid, and then raises a lighter in his right hand. He flicks the wheel and spits the alcohol out at the same time, creating a wave of flame that rushes over the heads of the crowd. Everybody just fucking loses it, and a mosh pit starts up in the middle of the room as Hael’s chosen song comes screaming out of the speakers. He’s a pretty big fan of metalcore music, so that’s what we get, this hardcore screaming that riles up the room into a frenzy.

Hael hops down from the dais, chucking his bottle and making his way straight toward me and Cal.

“May I?” he asks, gesturing at Cal to cut in.

“I don’t know,” I quip back, still holding onto the front of Cal’s hoodie. “Will Brittany mind?”

“Oh, get fucked, Blackbird,” Hael says, grabbing me and yanking me into his arms. It’s pretty hard to dance to this song, so we end up just getting close and grinding together, pelvis to pelvis. My arms go around Hael’s neck as I notice Brittany watching us from the edge of the room. Speak of the devil … I think as her eyes glitter with a jealousy so intense it steals my breath away.

My eyes flick back to Hael’s brown ones, surrounded by black makeup. Does he know she’s watching us right now? I slide my fingers up the back of his neck, tickling his black-dyed red hair with my nails.

“Do you think Brittany likes my costume?” I inquire, nodding with my chin in her direction. Hael pauses, frowns, and glances over his shoulder, face tightening as he spots his ex on the fringes of the crowd. She’s dressed up like Ariana Grande with a high pony and a cat-eared headband.

“Fuck my life,” he grumbles as he turns back to me, keeping his hands firmly on the curves of my waist. “I don’t give a shit what she thinks.”

“You must’ve liked her at some point, to date her for so long,” I press, my lips near Hael’s chest. I wonder if he can even hear me above the wild thrum of the music. He keeps me close and finishes up the song, but when I try to pull away, he holds me there.

“You get it though, right?” he asks, looking at me with his head cocked slightly to one side. “Dating someone who’s not like you at all, just to see if there’s something you’re missing? I mean, you dated that douche Donald Asher.”

My lips purse, but I have no comeback for that.

When I look for Brittany again, I see that she’s disappeared into the party. Hael doesn’t follow after her like I thought he might. Instead, he parks himself on a crumbling high-backed chair, kicking one leg over the arm and snatching up an abandoned bottle of whiskey. He doesn’t seem concerned that he’s drinking out of some random’s bottle as he tilts it back.