Page 22 of Royal Havoc

“Why does this damn town require so much cardio?” I whine loudly at her back. I swear I’ve been relocated from flat land to hill heaven. My legs are screaming their hate louder with each step.

At the bottom of the hill, she turns, ready to cross the road. “Ta-da,” she jokes, waving to the house across the street from us like she magically made it appear.

“Unless there are Lucky Charms in that house, your magic sucks,” I deadpan, suddenly getting the munchies.

I might have pre-gamed, finishing the rest of the joint I tucked away earlier. Which might have been the reason I was late meeting her.

There are snacks at parties… right?

She leads us up the long walkway towards the two-story white house. From what I can tell, the porch wraps around the entire thing, littered with outdoor chairs and loveseats. Every light in the place is on.

“Do city girls party?” she asks before we reach the steps.

“Not in thesticks,” I grimace. “If you’re lucky enough to get a hookup, we go to clubs.”

“A hookup?” she questions, staring at me like I’ve got three boobs.

Rolling my eyes. “Not that hookup. A fake. An ID,” I explain, watching as she laughs, shaking her head.

“We’ll start with house parties. You’re not ready for the sticks,” she jokes seriously.

Bass rattles the glass, and I have to wonder if the windows will crack before the end of the night. Inside, I’m struck by the smell of spilled beer, sweat, and regret —so much for the munchies.It’s like we’ve walked onto the set ofHome Alone. That's how my brain processes the layout inside the house.

A crowd gathers in the room to our left, sweaty bodies smooshed together, bouncing around to music thumping out of speakers I can’t see. It’s basically a homemade club for rich kids.

Wonder where the furniture went?

My eyes flair as we move a little deeper into the house and fall on the room to our right, almost giving me an instant eye twitch. I’m not a prude. I mean, I licked a guy's licorice in a crowded club, but at least it was dark, and there weren't a trillion eyes watching me.

Scratch the itch when it hits without an audience!

Secondhand embarrassment creeps up my spine, clogging my throat as my eyes slowly return to normal. I’m gonna guess this chick’s a cheerleader, not the Victoria Angel she’s trying to be.Would she strut like that in a Target thong?I wonder, watching a guy scoop her up, laying her on what I assume is a dining room table.

“Body shots!” he yells, hands cupped around his mouth.

Since the time Zoey pulled me into this scene, which hasn’t been long. I’ve noticed several phones recording and flashing. Something taps at my brain…

Social and half a brain, perfect alibi — where have I heard…

My head swivels around, almost breaking my neck, when Zoey pulls the sleeve of my flannel, motioning for me to follow her down the hall. It spills us into a brightly lit kitchen, making me blink. She saunters over, checking out the random bottles of liquor littering the island. I’m more interested in spying on the two separate crowds gathered around some tables, shouting. It doesn’t take me long to deduce they’re playing pong once I see a white ball ricochet across the room.

So this is what small-town parties look like…

Naked chaos and playing with bouncing balls. Life’s mysteries are solved, whatever.

“Here,” Zoey calls over the noise, shoving a red plastic cup at me.

Peeking inside before sniffing it. “What is it?”

“Bitch in the Sticks.” She smirks, pulling her cell phone from her back pocket.

We stand alone, her scrolling, me watching a guy shit-talk his opponent. Out of nowhere, I notice her nod towards the French doors, expecting me to follow her.

She stops by the railing on the deck. Wind swirls around us, shocking the little bit of belly my crop tank isn’t covering under my flannel.

Glad I chose the jeans with only a couple of rips.

Stalking her stare, I see something glowing in the far corner of the yard by a row of trees. She charges down the steps before I’ve processed what we’re looking at. This lunatic is on a mission, leaving me and my short legs in the dust.

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