Love, After Dark

Chapter 43

SIRI

Keisha and I turned at the same time. A tall guy with messy brown hair and a crooked grin stood behind us like he’d been there the whole time. “Not now, Tyler,” Keisha said immediately, clearly annoyed. His grin faded. His face softened, something almost desperate flickering across it. “Can we please talk?” he asked, voice lower now. “Just five minutes.” He looked like he meant it. Keisha sighed, glancing at me. I offered her a small smile. “I’ll go get us some drinks.” She studied my face for a second before nodding. “Don’t go far.”

I slipped away toward the kitchen, weaving through bodies, trying not to think about the way Brice’s eyes had burned into me minutes earlier. The kitchen was chaos. People leaning against countertops, bottles everywhere, someone laughing too loudly near the fridge. I found the punch bowl and grabbed two cups. I was mid-pour when I heard heels clicking behind me. Sharp. Deliberate.

“Well, if it isn’t little miss perfect herself,” Wynter’s voice screeched. I froze. Slowly, I turned. Wynter stood there with Whitney and Courtney flanking her like loyal attack dogs. Wynter’s arms were crossed, eyes blazing. “She’s not even that pretty,” Whitney scoffed, looking me up and down. “I don’t see what the big deal is.” Courtney snorted. “Right? She looks like she got dressed in the dark.” “At least try if you’re going to compete,” Whitney added with a fake pout. Heat crawled up my neck.

“I don’t know what you think there is between you and Brice,” Wynter continued, stepping closer, “but I’m here to let you know it’s never going to happen.” “There’s nothing going on,” I said quickly, my voice steadier than I felt. “I don’t even know him like that.” That only made her angrier. “Oh, spare me,” she snapped. “You expect me to believe that?” “I didn’t do anything—” “Stay away from my boyfriend,” she screamed, her voice cutting through the music.

People were starting to gather now. Phones subtly lifted. Whispers spreading. “Or else!” Before I could even react, Courtney grabbed the punch bowl and dumped it over my head. Cold, sticky liquid drenched me instantly. My hair flattened against my face. My top clung to my skin. Blue fabric darkened and turned heavy. The room erupted. Some people gasped. Others laughed. A few actually cheered. I stood there, dripping, humiliated, my ears ringing.

I looked up to see Brice standing a few feet away, eyes wide. Frozen. Not moving. Not saying anything. Not stopping it. That hurt more than the punch. I didn’t wait. I shoved past the crowd and ran. I ran past Keisha and Tyler near the bathroom, ignoring Keisha’s confused “Siri?” as I bolted for the front door. I didn’t stop until I was outside, the cool air hitting my soaked skin, until I reached the passenger side of her car. That’s when the tears came.

Keisha rushed out moments later. “Siri!” I turned to her, tears spilling down my cheeks, but I couldn’t speak. Her eyes dropped to my clothes. To my hair. To the sticky mess dripping onto the pavement. Her expression shifted into fury. Pure fury. She turned sharply toward the house. “I swear to God—” I grabbed her arm. “Let’s just go.” “Siri—” “Please.” She looked torn. I could see the war in her face. The need to destroy them versus the need to protect me. Finally, she exhaled sharply and walked around to the driver’s side. The entire drive back to her house, she ranted. “I will ruin them. Do you hear me? They think they can just pour punch on you? In front of everyone? And get away with it?! They are insane.” I said nothing. I just stared out the window, watching trees blur past.

When we pulled into her driveway, she turned to me. “Do you want me to drive you home? I’ll drop you off and catch a Lyft back.” “It’s okay,” I said quietly. “I just… I need to be alone.” I glanced down at the ruined blouse. “I’m sorry about your shirt.” She looked offended. “I don’t care about the shirt.” She leaned over and pulled me into a tight hug. “It’ll be okay. They’re not getting away with this.” I nodded, but I didn’t believe it. “Call me when you get home.” “I will.” I drove away.

The ride home was silent except for the GPS occasionally interrupting my thoughts with a monotone direction. I didn’t turn on music. I didn’t wipe the dried punch from my skin. I just thought. How did my life get here? I hadn’t flirted with Brice. Hadn’t chased him. Hadn’t said a single rude word to those girls. I hadn’t done anything wrong. So why did they hate me?

The look on his face replayed in my mind. Wide eyes. Shock. But no action. None of this would’ve happened if he’d stayed away from me. I hadn’t asked him to come to the auditorium. I hadn’t told him to ignore his girlfriend and stare at me in front of a room full of people. I just wanted my life back. I craved Millburn in that moment. Kayla. Familiar sidewalks. Simpler problems. I hit her contact. It rang twice before going to voicemail. A text came through almost immediately. Kayla: hey, can I call you later? Me: sure. The light turned green and I drove on.

When I pulled into my driveway, I glanced at the time and my stomach dropped. 11:45pm. I had broken curfew. Before I could even reach the porch, the front door swung open. My mom stood there, fury already written across her face. “Siri—” I walked straight past her into the house, dropping my bag on the floor. She started to speak again, but I didn’t let her. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her. And I broke.

Sobs tore out of me, messy and uncontrollable, my face pressed into her shoulder. She stiffened in surprise, then sighed softly, wrapping her arms around me. “It’s okay,” she murmured, rubbing my back. I cried until I couldn’t anymore. Until my breathing slowed. Until I could finally stand upright without shaking. She pulled back slightly, studying my face. Her nose wrinkled. “Siri…” she said slowly. “Why do you smell like alcohol?”