5.

CASSIAN

The bass pounded through the floor, rattling the walls like the whole damn house was alive. The air was thick with the nauseous combination of booze, sweat, perfume. The kind of mix that clung to your skin and let you know you were definitely making bad decisions.

People were everywhere, packed together like sardines. A mess of tangled limbs, wet overly revealing swimsuits, and alcohol induced grins. Someone suddenly cannonballed into the pool, sending water splashing onto half-drunk girls screaming about their hair. A couple was making out and writhing against one another on a deck chair like they weren’t surrounded by fifty other people. Perhaps because they were being egged on by that same people. But it was not that kind of party though.

God, I hoped not. I’ve got a fucking History test to worry about tomorrow.

I leaned back against the railing, a half-empty beer dangling from my fingers, watching the chaos unfold with mild amusement. Parties like this were a good fucking distraction. A way to forget.

Didn’t matter that I’d been stuck repeating my senior year while my friends moved on. Didn’t matter that my job barely covered rent or that my car was one good kick away from falling apart. Didn’t matter that I had a shitstorm of problems waiting for me the second I stepped outside this ridiculously huge mansion.

Because right now, none of that existed.

Someone bumped into me. She was a girl from school. A Junior if I can remember, wearing a bikini top two sizes too small, smelling like watermelon vodka. She gave me a grin, playing with the hem of my shirt.

“You just gonna stand there looking pretty, Dempsey, or you actually gonna have fun?”

I smirked, lifting the beer bottle to my lips, “I like watching.”

She pouted, trailing her fingers down my chest like she thought she was being irresistible. “That’s boring.”

“What can I say?” I drawled, eyes flicking lazily over her face, never straying to her ample package “I’m a boring guy.”

She giggled, all breathy and too eager, swaying unsteadily on her feet, and that was all I needed to know. Too young. Way too drunk. And definitely shouldn’t even be here.

Yeahh, not happening.

I sighed, scanning the crowd until I found who I was looking for.

“Rhea!”

A few feet away, Rhea Vasquez, a friend of ours, snapped her head up from where she was chatting with someone near the pool. The second her gaze landed on me, her eyes narrowed.

She already knew what this was.

I barely gave the girl in front of me time to react before nudging her toward Rhea. “She’s all yours.”

Rhea crossed her arms. “Cass,” she groaned, already exasperated, “this is the third girl you’ve handed me tonight.”

I shrugged, lazily tipping my beer in her direction, “Maybe y’all should stop inviting minors then.”

She scoffed. “Minors? She’s a junior.”

“Exactly,” I deadpanned.

Rhea huffed, muttering something under her breath about me being insufferable, but she still looped an arm around the girl’s waist, leading her away toward the patio.

I smirked, shaking my head as I turned back to the party. Crisis averted.

But that off feeling still clung to me, gnawing at the back of my mind like an itch I couldn’t scratch.

I should’ve been enjoying this. I used to love this. The noise, the chaos, the distractions. But lately, nothing sat right. Nothing felt right.

Not since that fucking night.

I gritted my teeth, eyes flicking across the party. My gaze landed on Elias, sitting stiff in one of the lounge chairs near the pool, fingers curled around a drink he wasn’t even touching. He was surrounded by a pompous group of people as usual. Friends of his from college, but it was like he was barely there. Like he wasn’t really listening to whatever bullshit conversation they were having. His phone sat face-up on the table beside him, screen lighting up every few seconds.

I looked away from him just as fast.

I hated looking at him.

Hated being in the same damn space as him.

Things hadn’t been right between us since it happened. We didn’t talk about it, didn’t even acknowledge it, but we sure as hell didn’t forget.

Because how the fuck were we supposed to?

One night. One drunk, stupid, reckless night, and suddenly everything was different.

The next morning had been a disaster.

We woke up half-naked, tangled in the same bed and each others limbs, both of us sore and hungover, both of us looking at each other with the same horror in our eyes.

For a single, sickening second, I thought with inexplicable horror, that no, no fucking way—

But then the memories hit, all at once, like a fucking jackhammer to the skull.

Darcy. It was Darcy.

Not Elias. We hadn’t slept with one another. No; it was Darcy.

A girl we had no business touching.

Levi’s baby sister. Not even a full fledged adult yet. Someone we’d practically helped raise.

I barely had time to feel relieved before rage took over. Because it didn’t matter that it wasn’t him. It didn’t matter that it was her.

It shouldn’t have happened at all. Never in a million years. Didn’t matter that she was the best fucking mistake I ever made, that she felt too good, too right, in ways I still couldn’t let myself think about. It didn’t matter.

Because she was Darcy.

And that meant it was wrong.

I threw the first punch. I didn’t even think, just swung at Elias like beating the shit out of him would somehow undo the whole damn night.

Elias didn’t take it. He hit back. Hard.

We fought like wild fucking animals, fists flying, glass shattering, blood dripping down our faces. It was ugly, brutal, the worst fight we’d ever had. Neither of us won.

Neither of us could.

By the time we were done, breathing heavy, bruised and battered, we knew one thing for sure..we weren’t gonna talk about it.

Not ever.

And Darcy?

She never brought it up.

At first, I thought she was waiting, letting the dust settle before she came for our throats or had Levi call in the fucking butcher. But days passed, then weeks, then months and still, nothing.

She never even looked at us different. Not even once.

So we convinced ourselves she must not remember. That she’d been too drunk, that it had all blurred together, that whatever happened that night was gone from her head forever.

And that was good. That was what we wanted.

Because if she didn’t remember, we could pretend it never happened.

If she didn’t remember, we weren’t monsters.

But it didn’t change the fact that me and Elias haven’t been the same since.

We didn’t talk. We didn’t look at each other if we didn’t have to. But in front of Levi? We faked it. Acted like we were still good friends, like we didn’t hate each other’s guts.

Like I didn’t look at him sometimes and want to break his fucking jaw all over again. And I hated that it wasn’t just because of the wrong we did Levi and Darcy. It was also because I couldn’t stand the fact that he touched her too. She wasn’t his to touch or obsess over. She just was not.

I downed the rest of my beer, swallowing the bitterness in my throat.

I Pulled my phone from my pocket and stared at the broken screen. I should fix that one of these days.

Anyways, Levi’s text was still there.

‘Family emergency. Don’t worry about it. Everything’s fine.’

It wasn’t fine. I knew it wasn’t.

Levi didn’t do vague texts. He didn’t ditch plans without a real reason.

Something was wrong.

And if Elias, sitting over there all stiff and brooding, had immediately guessed it was Darcy…

Then maybe we should’ve been fucking worried.