CHAPTER 6: PARTY FEVER

Since my second encounter with Max, an entire week had passed, during which I'd only discovered that we both had the same philosophy class. I was taking it to fulfill my history or culture requirement.

I strolled into the lecture hall for this class, wondering if I'd overslept. It seemed deserted. Panic set in as I checked my phone for the time, only to find out I was actually early. A sigh of relief escaped me. I headed to the seat I'd occupied for the past few lectures, but as more minutes passed with no sign of others, I had a thought. It wasn't my usual style, but my relentless best friend had backed me into a corner.

I placed my belongings on the lecture table and occupied a different seat for the next hour.

Max entered the room two minutes later. At least, I thought it was Max. He had his hoodie pulled so far down that it obscured his face, making me uncertain. However, when that husky voice commanded me to move, the muscular figure confirmed my suspicion.

"Why's he in such a foul mood?" I wondered aloud when he acted rudely.

He slammed his palm onto the table, and though he remained unfazed, it had to hurt. I was grateful we were the only ones present because if there had been more witnesses, things would have been even stranger.

"That's my seat. Get the hell out," he growled.

"Right. Orders. Who did he think he was, ordering me around?" I pondered internally. "Do you concur?"

Suddenly, another idea flashed through my mind, and I couldn't help but feel more confident, recalling a book I'd finished just days ago.

I pretended to look around for something, deliberately making noise as I shifted to allow him to hear me. His angry eyes bore into me, and I acted like I was searching for something.

"Whatever you're hunting for, hurry up," he snapped.

"Oh, honey, you stumbled onto something all by yourself," I mused silently.

"Well, you see, that might take a while because I'm trying to find a name somewhere here," I innocently responded, looking up at him with a raised brow. Then I leaned back in what I assumed was his chair, crossed my ankles on the lecture table, and put my hands behind my head, grinning provocatively. "Hate to break it to you, buddy, but I don't see one anywhere. My name's Isabella, in case you were wondering." I shot him a defiant smirk and shrugged.

The surprise on his face was priceless.

"Yeah, I thought so too, jerk," I silently retorted.

"You?" he asked with a mixture of confusion and disbelief, but he quickly caught on to my mockery.

"Well, too bad! I had intended to be polite, but now, he can kiss my ass," I thought.

"Yeah, it's me," was all I said, never wavering from his cold, piercing gaze. "Why? Were you expecting someone else here?" I intended to sting.

Initially, he seemed shocked and bewildered by my audacity, among other things. But he swiftly regained his composure and tried to intimidate me with his stature.

He let out an irritated sigh, appraising me once as if reconsidering his previous plan, entirely unashamed. Then, he removed his hoodie and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Look, I don't know you, and you obviously don't know me, or you wouldn't have thought of doing something like that. So please don't mistake this rare moment of kindness for weakness. In case your pretty little head hasn't figured it out yet, I've had enough buttons pushed this morning, and I'd hate for someone as pretty as you to feel the brunt of my anger. That said..." He leaned in slightly, expecting...

But I had other plans, you arrogant jerk!

I retorted, "Are you finished?" Irritation was etched across his face.

Evidently, he wasn't a fan of the rule that said you can't lay a hand on a girl, otherwise, his palm wouldn't be the only thing making contact with the table right now. I was being downright merciless, and we both knew it. But I wasn't about to back down and let Avery win.

"You've got some guts, you know that?"

I shrugged in response and quipped, "I think I'll call mine ovaries. But I apologize for your seat. It's a shame Professor Jenson has a first-come, first-served policy. Really is."

"Wow, are you serious right now?" he asked with a rude edge.

Absolutely, buddy! This gal is Mia Hastings 2.0!

"Who the hell is Mia Hastings?" he demanded, his jaw tense at my perplexed response. "Didn't you just say your name was Isabella?"

Damn it! Why do I always blurt out what's on my mind these days?

Think, think, think! You were doing so well just a minute ago. Don't screw this up!

I refocused on Max's impatient jaw clenching. Man, what I wouldn't give to abandon this act and attack that finely sculpted masterpiece.

Ugh, Isabella, stay focused! You can get all hot and bothered later.

Since the tough-girl persona had run its course, I decided to channel my inner Haley Geller: jump to conclusions and pepper him with questions.

The instant my feet touched the ground, I sprang to my feet. His sudden change in demeanor startled him just enough to take a small step back, providing me with the space I needed to confront him at eye level. Sure, my height was no match for his towering figure, but I wouldn't let him see the inner turmoil as our eyes locked in a battle of wills.

"Macy, Ruby, Mia, Pia, Haley, Tessa, why does it matter to you what my real name is? Are you going to act like you have the right to know that too? Back off!" I told him, surprising myself as much as him.

Holy crap, what's happening to me? I feel like an enraged bull, teased one too many times with a red cloth in a single day, and now that I've charged, there's no stopping.

He wasn't as taken aback by my sudden personality shift as I'd hoped. Not even a second later, he seemed to be chuckling at my supposed audacity, wearing a smirk of his own.

"You're a tough nut to crack, Split," he said, running his eyes over me before meeting my gaze again. "I like you."

"Split? Is he talking about that Shyamalan movie with the twist ending?"

Nice going, Blackwell. Not too shabby. I can't tell him that, though, because I don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

"I wish I could say the same about you, but I'm sorry. Last I checked, National Opposite Day is on January 25th."

Well, that was just lame. I could have done better, but he managed a half-laugh anyway. I couldn't quite tell if it was genuine or not.

But let me tell you, when he leaned in just enough to brush his lips against mine and then whispered in my ear, nothing could have made me laugh harder in that moment.

"You keep telling yourself that, Shots, Splits, Isabella, or whatever the hell your name is... that's beautiful."

"How the hell does he know I'm Italian, sweet mother of Sour Patch Kids? And how on earth did he say that with such a perfect accent... I thought 'Blackwell' was a French name?"

I wanted to retort with my own witty comeback, but before I could even open my mouth to try, Max had already taken a seat in the back row of the room, his back turned to me. It was only then that I realized everyone else in the room was staring back at me. When did all these people show up?

Not wanting to draw any more attention to myself, I returned to "his" seat and replayed the scene between us in my mind. I'd never cared so much about anyone's attitude before, and considering all the crazy things I'd done so far, that was saying something.

Or maybe it's just me? Sure, there's undeniable sexual tension. I can't deny it any longer. But for now, I'll dial it down with the book characters. I should try handling the next few situations in my own way and only resort to those strategies if nothing else works.

"Yeah, that's it," I nodded to myself, embracing the craziness that defined me. "You're really good at this."

Avery chimed in, "I have no idea what I'm doing!" as she rummaged through her closet in search of something to wear tonight.

Since my...shall we say, awkward confrontation with Max four days ago, I'd been focusing on more critical matters in my life and had forgotten to mention running into Kalix. I'd finally told her about it last night, and not an hour later, Kalix texted me, asking if Avery and I wanted to go to another ATO party tonight.

"I can't decide. I've been trying to find shoes that match forever," she lamented, as another crop top flew out of her closet and landed on her shoulder.

I sighed, observing this almost pitiful sight in front of me. Finally, I got up, grasping Avery's shoulders to halt her relentless assault on her wardrobe.

"Would you stop?"

"Avery, you know you'll look fantastic in whatever you wear. Besides," I assured her, releasing her

 when I spotted one of her favorite tops out of the corner of my eye, "whatever you choose, Miller will have it off you by midnight. Isn't it obvious? He doesn't care about your outfit because he likes you just as much as you like him."

Though her suddenly flushed cheeks gave her away, Avery chuckled.

With feigned indifference, she crossed her arms over her fluffy bathrobe and asserted, "I don't like Kalix Miller."

"That's right, and I don't like Sour Patch Kids."

I laughed as she loosened up and let out a long sigh.

"Is it really that obvious?"

"Honey, it's been crystal clear since sixth grade, but neither of you would admit it because of your pride," I explained, shaking my head and grinning.

"So what's the deal seven years from now?"

"Maybe he also complimented your looks," I reply, and Avery's eyes widen, her arms suddenly dropping to her sides.

Yep, I'd told Avery about running into Kalix, but I hadn't spilled the beans about him calling her "hot" until I deemed it the right moment. Well, now seemed as good a time as any.

With a mixture of skepticism and slowness, she asks, "He said what?"

"You heard me," I inform her. And before she can utter another word, I retrieve the top I'd spotted earlier. It was the same one that Kalix had inadvertently stained at our first middle school dance, clumsily spilling punch all over it. It used to be a bit big on her, but now that it's been transformed into a crop top, it suits her even better. Although she doesn't wear it as often as she once did. "Now, thank your lucky stars that you managed to scrub that red stain out of this thing with all that elbow grease," I reminisce with a grin. "Pair it with some tight high-waisted jeans to flaunt those long legs of yours. You'll thank me later."

I beam with pride as I watch her accept the top from my hands.

"Thanks, Isabella."

"Don't mention it," I reply with a wink, and then we exchange one of our signature comforting hugs.

Once Avery finally heads to the bathroom, I slip into a pair of leather skinny jeans to complement my red, long-sleeve lace-up crop top and beige heels. Just as I'm finishing up my makeup, Avery returns, all dressed up and ready to roll.

"Wow, that top really suits you better than ever," I note.

She can't resist asking, "Really? You think so?"

She must really despise him, huh? In middle school, she was an expert at concealing her crush, but since yesterday, it's been impossible to ignore. I mean, I've never seen her fret over her appearance before.

"I'm sure of it, Avery," I affirm instantly. "And trust me, Kalix will know it too when he lays eyes on you."

Avery breathes a sigh of relief, and after we've both completed our mandatory hygiene check, we set off for the same fraternity house where, during a drunken stupor, I mistook Max Blackwell's hand for mine. Here's hoping I don't pull off something equally as foolish or even dumber tonight.

"Never had a family growing up because I'm not human. If anyone wants to step into my top spot, they can have it, because when I leave, the whole world crumbles. Lace up, Avery!" Avery and I scream in each other's faces until she opens her mouth wide enough for me to pour vodka from two bottles simultaneously.

Then, I tilt my head back, allowing Jake, the last guy I was grinding with, to pour Jack Daniels into my mouth from a bottle. When I straighten up, everyone around us, including me, is laughing uncontrollably.

Upon our arrival at the party, Kalix introduced us to his friends who were already present, and since then, we've been having a blast. We've talked, laughed, danced, drank, sung, and then drank some more. Somewhere in the midst of all this, Avery and I climbed onto a table, and eventually, other people joined us. And that's where we find ourselves now.

Max is here too, but Kalix informed us earlier that he's up on the second floor, making amends with some girl he apparently ditched a few nights ago. But he's missing out on all the fun downstairs.

Jake whispers in my ear, "I'm gonna go take a leak."

"I'll be here," I nod to give him the green light, and as he walks away, I snatch the empty Jack Daniels bottle from his hand and hand it to Avery.

Avery bends down and tosses it into a nearby bucket. That's when I spot Kalix moving in behind her, positioning her back against his chest.

Leaning close enough to breathe in her ear, he whispers to her. Thankfully, I'm close enough to overhear their conversation.

"Don't think I didn't recognize that top from our first Fall Dance," he murmurs, and I watch as Avery nearly freezes before a grin spreads across her face, concealed from Kalix's view by his position.

"So the plan worked," she responds without reservation, and Kalix tightens his grip on her waist, pressing her behind onto his very evident arousal. Thank goodness for high heels, right?

Avery closes her eyes briefly, biting her lower lip as she realizes the effect she's having on him. Damn, just watching them makes me want to kiss her.

Kalix asks rhetorically, "What do you think?" and proceeds to whisper something too quiet for me to catch.

But I get my answer as Avery disengages from Kalix and tugs my arm down to bring us to eye level.

"He asked me to go upstairs with him," Avery whispers to me, her face radiant with joy. "I love you, I love you, I love you!"

Chuckling at her ecstatic state, I respond, "What's your condition right now?"

She whispers back, "I'm a bit tipsy, but I'm not anywhere near the point of not knowing what I'm doing."

"Then enjoy yourself and remember to be safe."

"As always," she assures me. "How are you getting back to our dorm tonight?"

"Don't fret over me; I'll find my way," I wink at her just as Jake emerges from the bathroom. She gazes ahead, catching my eye on him, and winks back, saying, "Oh, I see. Show him how it's done."

I shake my head at her, and after sharing a laugh, I guide her toward Kalix. I watch them head up the stairs in search of a room. I attempt to rise from the table, but my foot collides with an empty bottle, and the next thing I know, I'm slipping off.

"Oh, s***!" I shout uselessly, bracing for impact with the floor. But it never arrives. In the midst of my fall, I grasp onto the first thing I can find—a tattooed arm—and I'm suddenly cradled in the arms of a familiar Greek God with a smirk on his face.

Max sweeps a stray curl of hair from my face and tucks it behind my ear. "You know, Shots, we really need to stop meeting like this."

The first thing out of my mouth is, "When the hell did you get here?" I distinctly recall Kalix mentioning he'd be gone for a while.

"I've been here all along, but I had some upstairs business to attend to. Had I known you were already down here, I'd have rushed back sooner," he says after a pause, during which he scans my body with longing.

What a bipolar character! Has he already forgotten our classroom escapade with Professor Jensen?

"Come on," my inner voice chimes in, "we both know you're just trying to escape this theory test as soon as possible. Well, Shots, here's the bad news: you've still got a long way to go."

"Shut up."

"Damn, okay. Not a fan of flirting...noted," Max quips with a humorous tone.

"Ugh, I wasn't talking to you," I grumble, mostly at myself for once again failing to keep my thoughts to myself as I finally extricate myself from his grasp.

"So, back to 'Split,' is it?" he jests, folding his arms across his chest.

"What? No," I shake my head and then slide my hands into my back pants pockets.

"All right then, Shots it is," he declares with a charming toothy grin.

"Whatever," I retort, rolling my eyes, and I head for my purse. If I've learned anything in this game, it's that guys love a challenge. So, if he wants something from me, he's going to have to work a lot harder now. If that means finding another crowd or heading home early, so be it. "If a girl named Avery comes looking for me, tell her to check her phone," I inform him. Then I pivot to depart, but as anticipated, he halts me by seizing my wrist and spinning me around with just enough force to crash me into his well-built chest.

Damn. If only I didn't need to play my cards right, I'd be sticking my tongue out at that.

Max's rough fingers glide up my back and twine around one of the strings that hold my shirt together.

"It'd be a shame to expose you just yet," he murmurs as he moves his lips nearer to my ear.

Oh, bother.

Isabella, learn to rein in your hormones. He knows all about you.

Even though I couldn't care less about my own thoughts, I can't deny the electric jolt that shoots up my spine when he touches me again. "Damn it, Novel!" - that is, until his eyes lock with mine once more. He gazes at my lips while sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, and just when I think he's about to make his move, Jake's obnoxious interruption spoils the moment.

Jake calls out, "Hey, Isabella! I'm back!" as he strides over to us. I glance back at Max, who now appears even more amused, and he shoots me a look that says, "Seriously?" Who else but him?

Nonetheless, I seize the escape route presented from above and break free from Max's embrace once more, only to approach a grinning Jake and crash my lips onto his. I can see Jake's stunned expression and Max's slightly raised eyebrows as he crosses his arms over his chest once more. But even though I know it stung his ego, if only for a fleeting moment, he quickly masks it with a smirk. That is, until I refocus my attention on Jake and spend the next ten seconds battling Jake's tongue with mine.

When I finally feel like I've inflicted enough damage, I pull away from a dazed Jake, who can only mutter "holy shit." I wave goodbye to both guys and exit the house.

Yet as anticipated, Max follows me outside.

"Now's the time you admit that fish lips weren't up to par?" he inquires from behind me as I descend the concrete stairs.

"Ha! Well, you would know."

I hear him chuckle at my retort.

"More like I've heard the complaints," he responds swiftly. "How about I show you what a real kiss feels like?"

"Nice try," I reply, hoisting my purse in the air. "I'll give you that much."

As I halt to scan for oncoming cars before crossing the street, his strong arm brushes against my shoulder. I turn to give him an irritated look, trying not to laugh at the goofy grin he flashes me when his eyes meet mine.

"What are you doing?" he inquires. I shake my head, pivoting to face him and crossing my arms in an attempt to appear somewhat intimidating.

"Calm down, Shots. I'm just trying to walk you home," he says, and he proceeds before I can even decline. "Kalix mentioned earlier today that two of his old classmates would be joining us tonight. Since you and your friend, whose name I believe is Avery, are the only two not part of our usual friend group back there, I assume one of you must be them."

His grin loses its luster when he observes my lack of interest," I remark.

Amidst all his chatter, I can't help but be aware of how his 6'2" frame dwarfs my 5'6" figure like an imposing tower.

"Damn him for reigniting this fire," I halt my own wicked thoughts to challenge him, but all he does is flash one of his infamous smirks.

"The parking's always behind the house, but a nice try," he quips.

I roll my eyes once more, and as soon as I can, I cross the street. Midway across, however, the crazy person decides to follow me, heedless of the blaring horn of an approaching car. I yank him onto the sidewalk, a rush of horror surging through me as the car races down the street.

"Are you completely insane?!"

"Oh well," he shrugs, "seems like you need to take care of me more than I need to look out for you tonight."

"You're out of your mind," I retort as I pivot and continue walking along the sidewalk. It's clear that I've got no choice but to let him do the same.

"That's what they all say," he responds, and I swear, it takes every ounce of self-control not to burst out laughing right then and there.

How am I supposed to 'prove' anything if all I do when I see this guy is laugh at him?

Fifteen minutes later, we stop in front of the only ice cream shop I know in this area that stays open until midnight. But, much to my chagrin, I.V. I'm not here for Drip's delectably gooey ice cream sandwiches.

Max queries, "Do you live in an ice cream shop?" as he awaits my reply.

"No," I reply deadpan, "but you must be completely delusional if you think I'll let you walk me home just to figure out where I live." Before he can retort, I motion over his shoulder. "Kalix mentioned that some of you live on El Colegio Road, which is just down the street." I raise my thumb and point over my shoulder, stating, "So does my house, but in the opposite direction. This place," gesturing to the shop's sign, "marks the halfway point. Goodnight, Max."

"So, you do know who I am," he remarks as I'm about to leave.

Argh! Why does he only hear what he wants to?

And can he ever wipe that darn adorable smile off his face?

"Don't flatter yourself, buddy. You're just one of the many friends Kalix said we'd be meeting tonight."

Why on earth do I feel like I have to tell him who I am?

Isabella, just get out of here already.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a full-sized bathtub at home waiting to be filled with hot, steamy water, and I can't wait to sink my soon-to-be-bare behind into it, surrounded by all that soft, frothy foam," I tease him, aiming to school him in not messing with Isabella Vega.

I hoped this would make him squirm enough to just leave or something, but he's got a few tricks up his sleeve. He takes a step closer to loom over me again. Without wasting time, he wraps his arm around my waist and presses his arousal against my stomach. When he leans close to my face, beads of sweat instantly form on my brow. Just when I think he's about to pick up where he left off before we were rudely interrupted, his warm breath grazes my ear.

Déjà vu, where are you?

"Thanks for escorting me halfway home, Shots," he whispers seductively before gradually pulling away and striding back towards his place as if none of this ever happened.

I finally turn around and walk back to Manzanita Village alone, contemplating all the sinful possibilities we could explore while reminding myself repeatedly that I'm in desperate need of holy water.