Page 127 of Unwritten Rules

?Chapter 33

Fallon

“And the winner of bestcostume goes to...” he opened the envelope to read the name. “...Fallon Montgomery for being the hottest devil this campus has ever seen. Seriously, it says that.”

The crowd roared to life as I was led forward to the DJ to accept my prize—a bottle of whiskey and a Halloween figurine trophy.

So much for a low profile.

“You’re hot!” A bunch of guys yelled from the crowd.

I took my prizes and tried to scurry off the stage before the DJ stopped me. “No way! You’re due obligatory pictures now. Everyone line up!”

The first person came up to me to take a picture with me.

Sloane.

“Hey, bestie!” She threw her arm around my shoulder, sending a wave of nervous energy down my body. Her lips dipped close to my ear as we took a few pictures, a viscous grin apparent in her voice. “I hope you know what you’re doing. The games have just begun.”

Smiling through her threats, I made it through the next twenty minutes of the groups of guys wanting pictures with the hottest devil on campus before Kelly finally saved my ass.

“Look,” she showed me her phone full of cash deposits. “We got money for lunch forever now.”

I laughed, knowing she’d been up to something. “Were you secretly charging for pics?”

“Duh,” she flipped her hair. “There’s money galore on campus, and now we have lunch paid for a year in advance.”

The party raged on, and I found myself losing steam as I became more nervous about the meeting with Augustus the next morning. That nagging feeling creeping back up into my chest that something was horribly wrong flared my paranoia back up. Drinking more wouldn’t solve the issue.

“I’m gonna head home,” I said to Kelly. “Are you staying?”

She shook her head, giving me a sweet smile. “Nah. Let’s go.”

Good, because I needed to throw up.

The next morning after retching over the toilet, I tried to mentally prepare myself for the day, but my phone buzzed with yet another new headline:

Breaking News: Another Accidental Death on Willow Bay’s Campus. Should College Parties Avoid Alcohol?

The notification flickered across my screen, sending me back to the threat from Sloane.

The games have just begun.

And the series of creepy texts that came to my phone—some with knowledge of Brent and me.

It made sense, really.

I wasn’t just living through a bad TV soap opera; I was trapped in one.

Kelly ambled softly into the kitchen in her disheveled pajamas and messy hair while she stretched her arms in a yawn. “Hey girl! Breakfast? I’ll make bacon and omelets.”

“Check this out,” I said, extending my phone to her. “This is right after Sloane threatened me last night.”

She pursed her lips, opening the fridge to pull out ingredients. “This scandal has everyone on their toes, especially since a bunch of these rich assholes are turning on each other. It’s giving mafia, if I’m being honest.”

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