Austin
I wove through the crowd with two fresh drinks in hand, feeling the bass vibrate in my bones. The house was even worse than before. Hotter. Louder. Packed shoulder to shoulder with half the team and everyone they’d ever texted. Someone was already throwing up in the bushes out front. Classic. I was smirking to myself about it, rolling my eyes at Fitzgerald’s taste in “classy” parties, when I finally spotted her. Dawson. Standing dead still in the middle of the floor like she’d glitched out of reality. Except she wasn’t alone.
Some girl was all over her. Short, blonde, hair twisted up, wearing a tank top two sizes too small and that drunk. She had that drunk, lazy grin, eyes half-lidded and roaming without shame. One hand was wrapped around Jane’s wrist, fingers brushing skin like
