Page 45 of Call It What You Want
“Sure.”
It might be nice to get some insight on how to survive this place, because, let’s be real, I’m not exactly nailing it.
When Eve disappears behind the basement door, I slip out the back door and follow a couple of people down a dark, sandy path to the private beach below Rush House. The sound hits first—live music thumping, people shouting over each other, laughter ringing out over the sound of crashing waves.
Smoke curls up from the makeshift fire pits that have been dug right into the sand, where seafood is boiling in giant pots. Crab, shrimp, corn, and potatoes are being dumped straight onto paper-lined tables, steam rising into the night air as people dig in with their bare hands, fingers slick with butter and spice. Empty bottles litter the beach, half-buried in the sand.
It’s loud, messy, chaotic, and somehow,exactlywhat I expected a Burning Crown party to look like.
I manage to find an empty lounge chair and ease into it, so I can sip on my sangria and observe. And maybe it’s the alcohol, or the fact that I’ve already been through absolute hell, but it feels like everyone’s eyes are onme,watching.
The ocean breeze is freezing, so I scrunch my knees up and pull the bottom of my sweatshirt over them. It helps a little. Then I drain the rest of my drink while I watch a handful of drunk people play beach cricket, which is more entertaining than one would think. They can barely walk straight, let alone hit a ball.
Out of my periphery, I see a tall figure emerge from the surrounding shadows and sit on the end of my lounge chair.
My mind is still processing the sheer audacity of whoever this is, sitting onmychair, when a red solo cup fills my vision. A bamboo straw and a pink umbrella balance on the rim of the cup. “I know your weakness for a good Mai-Tai.”
That voice.
My eyes climb up to the stranger’s face, only it’s not a stranger. Broad shoulders fill out a white polo shirt, and his short brown hair is combed neatly back from his face. A pair of familiar brown eyes lock on me.
“Chase, ” I squeak, heart in my throat. I pull my legs out of my sweatshirt and sit up straighter, taking the drink from his hand. “What are you doing here? I mean, how did you?—?”
Was he looking for me? How did he find me? Bumping into him here is almost too good to be true.
“Weird seeing you here,” he says flatly, echoing my thoughts. “Didn’t you say you were at a friend’s place, taking a break?”
I lean forward and open my mouth to tell him everything, when Jackson’s voice fills my head like a movie voiceover, every word crystal clear—Try to escape, and I swear to God, Ava, Iwill hunt you down, drag you back to my bed, and chain you there if I have to.
Not to mention what he’d do to Chase.
“Yeah,” I laugh. “Thatfriendbasically kidnapped me. I didn’t exactly want to come.”
He nods, but it’s stiff. Hesitant. He doesn’t kiss me or reach out to touch me, which means he’s pissed. But who can blame him? I have no clue what Jackson texted him, pretending to be me, but it was probably pretty blunt.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” I say, then rush to add, “I mean, it’s ahappysurprise. But I didn’t think you came to these kinds of things.”
Chase doesn’t do parties. He goes to class, to work, then hangs out at my place. If we’re lucky, we might get a date night or something, but even that’s pretty rare. He’s a homebody, through and through.
He takes a sip of his beer. “My buddy, Dorian, is a member of the Flaming Crown. He could tell I was feeling shitty, so he invited me.”
“Burning Crown,” I say.
He leans in closer to hear me over the music.“I’m sorry, what?”
“TheBurningCrown,” I say, a little louder this time. “That’s the name of the society.”
“Right,” he says, his gaze dropping to the pendant resting against my chest, visible on top of my sweatshirt. Shit. If I’d been thinking, I would have tucked it underneath. Too late now.
“Is that—?” He pauses, tilts his head, and recalculates his words. “When I was invited here tonight, Dorian said there were only two rules. One, don’t openly talk about the society, and two, don’t touch any girl wearingthatnecklace. It means she’s been taken by one of the leaders.”
I swallow, heart racing, completely thrown by his observation.
“Is that what this is about, Ava? Is that why you needed a break?” he presses, eyes locked on mine. “Are you hooking up with someone else?”
Guilt swamps me, even though none of this was my choice. But, regardless, he deserves to know the truth…
“No,” I say quickly, then catch myself. “I mean, yes.” I pause, exhale slowly, and force myself to start over. “It’s my ex, Jackson. We dated back in Missouri, and…” I swallow hard. “Yeah, he’s one of the leaders of the Burning Crown.”
