Page 22 of Off Limits

With her hands on my shoulders, she turns me to face her and looks deep in my eyes. Normally she has to look up at me a little bit, but with her in heels and me in flip flops, we’re literally eye-to-eye right now.

“Look at me,” she says, her voice firm and commanding in a way I’m really not used to from this girl who projects an aura of serene inner peace who loves everyone and everything for its unique, ineffable qualities. “We’re going out tonight, and you are going to be the talk of the party, got it? You’re hot, and you’re going to attract eyes and attention in the best ways.”

I let out a nervous chuckle and look away. “Sure, Autumn. If you say so.” I might see myself in the mirror and think I look hot tonight, or nice enough any other day, but I’ve never been the girl who makes everyone sit up and pay attention when she walks in a room. That’s Autumn, too, actually. Sometimes. My brows wrinkle as I think about that. It’s almost like it’s a switch she turns on and off, that magnetism. Sometimes she slips in unnoticed, and sometimes she commands attention from everywhere, people even drifting in from outside to see what’s going on, so strong is her pull.

She gives me a little shake to redirect my attention back to her. “C’mon, Ellie, I’m serious. Look me in the eye and say it back to me. Say, ‘I’m hot, and I’m going to own this party.’”

I do my best to keep a straight face, but as soon as the words, “I’m hot,” leave my mouth, I dissolve into another fit of nervous laughter.

But Autumn’s not having it. “This won’t work if you don’t believe it. Youarehot. Trust me. You know me well enough to know I wouldn’t lie to you. Your skin is glowing, your tits look amazing, and that garnet is fire. And watching all those video tutorials have paid off, because your makeup is flawless and your hair is fantastic.” She informed me yesterday that we’d be going to a party and that since I like to paint, I would be in charge of makeup. All protests that my makeup skills are barely above basic fell on deaf ears, so I scoured the internet for looks and tutorials, and here we both are with smoky eyes (for me) and bold red lips (for her) that play up our best assets and go with our respective outfits better than I could’ve predicted. “Even if you don’t want attention,” she continues, “you’ll get it. But if you project the kind of confidence that goes with that look and tell the universe what kind of attention you want, it’ll come to you in spades. So say it with me, ‘I’m hot, and I’m going to own this party.’”

Something about the fierceness behind her words has the desire to laugh fading away. “I’m hot, and I’m going to own this party,” I repeat.

“Again,” she commands.

I say it again, louder.

“One more time.”

And somehow, that third time does the trick. This time, I actually believe it.

Autumn examines my face, then she steps back, her eyes flicking over my body, and she nods. “Yeah, you are, and you will. Let’s go.”

* * *

The bravery inspired by Autumn’s unwavering confidence fades as we approach the frat house on Greek row where loud music and bodies spill out into the lawn under the dim glow of street lamps and porch lights.

I put a hand on Autumn’s arm, pulling us to a halt about half a block away. “I don’t know about this, Autumn. This isn’t really my scene.”

She scoffs. “So? It’s not really mine either. But we agreed that we’re saying yes this year. We’re exploring. Maybe itisour scene, but we don’t know because we’ve never tried it. And if it sucks, we bail. But we can’t know if we’ll love it or hate it until we try.” She scans me out of the corner of her eye. “Plus, you’re trying to get picked up, find a guy who’s not best friends with your brother, and have some fun. Right? If spending—what? A few hours with Simon already has you this twisted up over him? You need a distraction. And while he is rather unique in his combination of size, strength, and sex appeal, there are plenty of beautiful boys just waiting to be discovered.” She throws her arm out in a grand gesture to accompany that last declaration. “Let us go discover them.”

Laughing, I let her tow me along, following behind her as she weaves her way through the crowd at the front door and inside. It’s even louder, and somehow darker, inside. The lights are turned way down, colored bulbs in the lamps in the front room making it dim and mysterious, the furniture pushed back against the walls, and the noise is almost deafening between the music and the shouted conversations.

The crowd almost seems to part in front of her, like she’s some sort of female Moses and the partygoers are the Red Sea. Aaaand leave it to me to come up with a biblical reference at a frat party.

Autumn cuts through like she’s on a mission, tossing smiles at everyone who glances our way as we pass. Even the other girls look us up and down and return her smile. Has Autumn ever met anyone who doesn’t like her? Somehow I doubt it. Not when she’s like this, anyway.

I bob along in her wake, returning the smiles that are turned on me, though most of the smiles are a lot closer to the expression a shark has before gobbling up a tiny fish.

Gulping, I step closer to Autumn, using her to deflect some of the attention, and realize she’s stopped. Looking around, I see we’re in the kitchen, waiting in line at the keg sitting on a red towel in the middle of what would normally be the dining area.

A guy with spiky blond hair breaks off from the group he’s standing with and approaches Autumn and me. “Hey, ladies. Can I get you a drink?”

Autumn turns her sunniest smile his way. “Oh, that’s so kind of you to offer, but we’re fine waiting in line.”

“Aww, c’mon, beautiful.” He leans closer, his voice cajoling. “My friends and I’ve got the good stuff over here. There’s no need to wait for crappy beer from a keg when you can get top shelf liquor right away. And you know the old saying about beer before liquor anyway.”

Though her smile doesn’t fall even a centimeter, Autumn’s energy turns distinctly chilly. Even I can feel it, and none of it is directed at me. “Who says we plan on drinking liquor at all? And like I said, we’re happy to wait in line. No need to waste your top shelf liquor on the likes of us who’re happy with keg beer.” Then her fingers find mine, and she turns us around to give the guy our backs.

“Bitch,” he snarls from behind. “Like I’d want to drink with you anyway. I just need a mattress.”

The sudden change makes my blood run cold, but Autumn seems unfazed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she smirks at me. “What kind of morons does he take us for?” she says in my ear. “Like we’d accept open cups from random dudes at a frat party. No thank you, sir. I prefer my drinks to be rohypnol free.” And she rolls her eyes again.

“Maybe we should just go.” Looking around, there are more eyes on us, and it’s only a matter of time before someone else approaches. Are they all going to be assholes? What’s the point of even coming if that’s what we have to put up with? I can deal with loud noises and crowds, but that? Hard pass.

The line moves forward, and Autumn pulls me along with her, shaking her head. “I told you we’d get attention, and even though it’s usually positive, putting out that energy always attracts a few undesirables. I promise they’re not all like that.”

“If you say so,” I mutter, but she doesn’t hear me, and soon we’re accepting plastic cups overflowing with foamy beer. Autumn moves us outside into the backyard in the warm September night. There’s a DJ set up on the back patio with a dance floor extending out over the lawn. Off to one side sits a hot tub full of people in various stages of undress with more crowded around and sitting on the edge. They’re loud, obviously drunk, and seem to be cheering on some kind of sexual escapades that have me looking away with wide eyes. Autumn just grins at me and taps her cup against mine. “To us, to parties, and to saying yes.”

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