Page 161 of Satan's Spawn
She returns to my side holding her bag, reassuring me with a slap to my ass. “You’re gonna be fantastic.”
The both of us are snickering when a knock erupts from the door, Archer’s gallant timbre calling out to us as if he’s our charming prince.
“Come ye beautiful ladies, your chariot awaits!” He sings in a Shakespearean tone. “It is I, Archer Beamont, your fearless knight here to whisk you both away to the ball.”
Hendrix and I roll our eyes and chuckle at the same time, still somehow finding his dramatic demeanor amusing.
When Hendrix opens the door, Archer takes up most of the frame, dressed to the nine in the navy Dolce & Gabbana slim tuxedo he hasn’t shut up about for two weeks.
He looks gorgeous as usual, his russet hair styled to perfection and a clean shaven sharp jaw with natural highlight to extenuate his other handsome features.
“Who’s ready to party?” He whips out a silver flask and twists the cap in his hand. “It’s time for some pregaming.”
After about an hour of indulging in whatever delicious liquor Archer had hidden in his flask, a bottle of Tito’s and cranberry juice, bad jokes and a random dance off between Hendrix and Archer, we’re finally heading down the elevator toward the dining hall.
Nerves set in once again, which I will admit is thwarted a bit from the two drinks and a shot I’ve already consumed.
But still, fuck me, here we go.
When we reach the doors to the hall, I can already hear the music thumping off the floor—making it that much harder to walk without busting my ass.
Thank goodness for my trusty flip flops shoved in my clutch.
Archer opens the door for us, and it’s like entering into another dimension. The entire room has been transformed into a stunning reception. So elaborate it’s unrecognizable.
Colorful lights, a red carpet, tables draped with golden runners and gorgeous flower centerpieces. A DJ taking up the far end of the hall which already has students moving to the music on the makeshift dance floor. Servers going around with hors d'oeuvres and sparkling drinks.
This place looks more like a wedding reception to fit a king than a high school.
“You coming?” Hendrix nudges me, and that’s when I realize her and Archer are already inside the room.
Archer holds out his elbow for me to take. “You got this, Bex.”
With a deep breath I take my first step inside, gliding my arm through Archer’s before we start moving again.
“Say ‘Go Royals!’” Some chick with a camera shouts over the loud music when we reach the ornate rose covered archway leading to the dance.
We all smile and take the picture, my arm tightening around Archer when I catch sight of Riggs and Levi in the distance, taking sips out of a cup I know must be filled with something strong. I instinctively search the room for Crayton, to no avail.
He’s not here…I think to myself, feeling the smallest pang of relief.Maybe he isn’t coming.
I scan the room again, looking for the Ice Queen, and can’t distinguish whether I’m sad or relieved at the idea they’re both missing.
Probably screwing.
Comparing demons.
“Let’s hit the punch bowl!” Archer howls like a wolf, taking off to give some guys a pound, and I love watching him in his element.
“I hope the punch is spiked.” I whisper-shout to Hendrix when she curls her arm around mine. “Lord knows I’ll need more alcohol if I’m going to survive tonight.”
As if proving my point, my mother’s saccharine voice beams from my side.
“There’s my beautiful eighteen year old baby girl!” She squeaks, holding her arms out for me, and when she touches down she squeezes me tightly in her arms.
“Okay Mom, I love you too.” I wriggle out of her grip and she takes the hint, holding her hands up.
“Of course, no PDA from the parentals, that’s never cool.” She nods her head like a genie and offers a quick hug to Hendrix before heading back to her post by the drink table.
