“So that’s it, then. You’re not going to give my friends a chance?”
Chance for what? To spit on me? “They don’t want me here, Riv.”
“Well, I do, and you’re my guest. Plus, I haven’t seen you face-to-face in, like, forever.”
“Then let’s leave. We’ll go grab burgers. Catch a movie.”
“Can’t. Tonight’s a big deal for our sorority, and I’m in charge of making sure everyone gets rides home from the rushes. Designated ride coordinator.” She points to the giant words on her pink shirt.
I didn’t even notice what it says. Mostly because I keep avoiding looking at her new body parts out of respect.
She continues, “Please stay? Just one hour and then you can go find your shell.”
It’s not a shell. It’s my chicken feathers.
“Pleasssse?” she whines.
She knows I can’t say no to her, but staying is a bad choice. I can feel it in my gut. That, and every guy inside looked at me like I’m a piece of juicy chicken in need of a good chomp. What is it about me that provokes instant hatred from complete strangers?
I’m cursed. I have to be. What other reason is there?
“Come on. Let’s get you some shots. It’ll take the edge off. Then you can decide if you want to stay.” River takes my hand and drags me inside through the back door into the kitchen, where a couple of guys are talking up two “flowers” in pink shirts. The larger guy, with cropped dark hair and really big shoulders, takes one look at me holding hands with River and snarls. Maybe he doesn’t appreciate me being with a Kappa Nu. I’m not one of them, and this sorority seems to be his turf.
I need to get out of here. One hour. That’s it. Then I’m gone.
CHAPTER SEVEN
River was right. The tequila took the edge right off. Along with the blade and handle. I haven’t tasted more than a sip of alcohol before this, and now I see the appeal.
Abyss. Numbness. Loss of inhibitions. Fuck yeah.
But where’s River?
She said she’d be right back after helping out a few partygoers in need of a ride to some other event.
I look around the crowded living room, where I’ve been left on a pink floral couch to fend for myself. I try to look inconspicuous and play on my phone.
It works. People are ignoring me as they mingle, dance, and do shots. I can’t stop scratching my nose. So many flowers.
“Hi. Who are you?” says a bubbly voice.
I look up to find a redheaded goddess about my age. She has big green eyes and perfectly tanned arms, neck, cleavage, legs—everything. A bouquet of yellow and pink flowers is painted on her cheek. Her cuteness overpowers me, especially her pouty lower lip.
I glance over my shoulder, wondering if she’s talking to someone else.
The girl laughs. “Do you think I’m talking to the wall?”
I sit up straight. “No, it’s just—”
“Kidding!” She sits down, sandwiching herself between me and another flower on the couch who’s making out with some guy. “I’m Keni.” She holds out her hand.
“Huff.” We shake, and I note how her skin feels like a velvety rose petal.
“Oh. You’re River’s friend. I heard all about you.”
Oh no. “What exactly did she say?”
“That you’re the kindest, sweetest guy on the planet. That she couldn’t have survived elementary school without you, and you always stood up to some jerk who used to pull her pigtails.”
I’d almost forgotten about that. This kid named Gunner used to tease River relentlessly. Right after she and I became friends, I saw him messing with her near the swings and threw sand in his face. I got in trouble but didn’t care. River rocked. She loved all my favorite superheroes, like Captain America and Iron Man. She even loved my favorite villains. Long live Loki! After that, every time Gunner tried anything, I stepped in like River’s bodyguard.
Funny. There’d actually been a time when I was fearless. Then something changed. Or, more accurately stated, something didn’t change: me.
While the other boys started getting muscles and facial hair, I still looked nine. I mean, I’ve always been small for my age, but the difference became more notable as I got older. In high school, I was so skinny that I became a target for every pussy in a ten-mile radius. I oozed “easy pickings.” Since then, my confidence has been shot, and a person only has to look at me to see it.
Now I’m finally taller, just over six feet, but I can’t put on muscle to save my life. Protein shakes. Weights. Push-ups. Everything I do has minimal impact. Seen more meat on a Slim Jim. Which is exactly why I’m wondering what’s up with this cute girl. Why’s she talking to me?
Keni goes on, “Oh. And River told me about your sister. Wow. I can see why she admires you. Something like that would’ve turned me into a psycho killer.” Keni gets serious all of a sudden—flat lips and a crinkle between her reddish brows. “If anyone ever touched my brother, I’d kill ’em. Like, run them over with a car. Hire a hit man. Strangle the juice right out of ’em. No one fucks with my brother.”