Page 9 of Dirty Roulette
“A little birdie told me about the breakup, andthe Crabcheated onherwithyou. Spill the tea,” she whispers and leans into my personal bubble.
How about I don’t?I’m not playing a game of telephone for her to spread words I didn’t say. “I’m not spilling anything.”
“Come on!” She flutters her cakey eyelashes. “That’s why she went to Brody.” Pure alcohol breath greets my face better than morning gum disease. “She didn’t know how else to deal with the betrayal.”
“Is that what you were told?”
“Brittni was so heartbroken.” Naomi’s face tells me she actually believes the sob story Brittni made up.
“Pitty,” I deadpan.
Another word from her might make me hurl. I hit her with the bitchiest eyes I possess. When she realizes I refuse to entertain the subject, she groans and twists off the bottle cap before tossing her head back to take a shot. “You should have grabbed blue raspberry.”
The feral urge to rip the bottle from her fingertips and scream thrashes in my ribcage. I’m the one who stole it in the first place, and I didn’t steal it solely for her to poison her liver.
Brittni emerges into view amid the jocks hanging around the beer pong table where guys trash-talk one another.
“I swear, if you lose to a chick, your nickname is going to be Little Bitch!” One guy shouts with a red cup raised in the air.
“Shut up, man!” The other jock twirls the orange ball in his hands to line up his shot, and when he throws it the ball bounces off the rim. Everyone huddling around starts to laugh.
It’s Brittni’s turn. She tosses the ball. It swirls across the rim of a plastic cup and plops in. Cheers roar behind her as she throws up two peace signs for her victory. The other player takes out the ball, shaking off the foam before downing the contents of the cup. She’s even good at beer pong, and I bite my tongue hard enough for it to bleed.
“Brittni!” Naomi squeals, holding up the bottle of glory.
Brittni gasps and flips her blonde Barbie hair strutting over, and Autumn magically appears like someone rubbed a genie bottle. “No way. I didn’t think you’d actually have the balls to do it.” Brittni’s voice is sultry and pretty. I have no other option but to hate it.
“Maybe Paytonischeerleading material for GCU,” Autumn slurs.
“Don’t flatter her just yet. She still has to play the game.” Brittni wiggles her fingers in a give me motion and Naomi passes the liquor to her. Each one of them takes turns downing a shot.
One of them caught my flutter-bitch-eye-roll because someone croaked out “Trash!” Then all three spit out alcohol in idiotic laughter.
“You’re so much prettier than that skanky boyfriend stealer,” one of them mutters to Brittni.
I push through them and head back to the sliding glass door. Charlie digs for treasure in a gigantic bag of chips. She’s dipping her head back in a laugh as she talks to Noah, a guy she desperately tried hooking me up with this summer. We hung out once at a party before Ryder came dragging us out by the ear. Let’s just say Charlie attempting to play matchmaker made me a complete bitch that night. I probably rubbed Noah the wrong way.
Metalhead vibes are written all over his forehead with his lengthy dark hair. Both of his arms are a canvas painted with a plethora of tattoos. The baggy shirt, skinny jeans, and a pair of Vans speak for themselves. Noah snatches the chip bag, throwing a handful of crumbs at her face as she giggles.
I walk towards them through the kitchen, booming with music. “Hey, what’s up, princess?” Noah lifts up his chin, greeting me as I stumble over. “Did you lose already?” He asks.
“Yeah, that was rather quick,” Charlie says but preoccupies herself by dusting chips off and pushing him playfully on the shoulder.
“It’s kinda crowded over there.” I bite the inside of my cheek.
Before Charlie responds, Brittni and her gang pour into the house. I’ve been here for five minutes and already I wanna crawl back into a hole. It never takes long for the world to prove that I don’t belong here.
“Charlie!” they squeal, parading over.
Charlie stares up at the ceiling fixtures and mouths “Lord help me.”
“Are you ready to play Dirty Roulette?” Brittni smirks with the bottle in her hand. Autumn stands beside her with a red cup, giggling at nothing in particular, and wobbling like her legs are made of jelly.
“Totally!” Charlie beams with the fakest smile.
“We found a handful of hotties who wanna play!” Autumn winks, then hiccups pointing a finger at Noah. “And you can bring the bad boy with you... He’s cute.”
Autumn takes another swig of her drink as Brittni says, “Oh my god, you brought a guy for Trash. How sweet of you.”
