Looking back at them over my shoulder, I see another guy join them, but his back is toward me, so I can’t get a look at his face. But I see a tattoo on the back of his neck that looks like a spider crawling out from underneath the collar of his shirt. My eyes go to the one who introduced himself as Mitch, and he’s already glaring at me. Giving him my back, I throw my hair over my shoulder.
Fuck him!
RYAT
I hate clubs. I’m not much of a partier. Even throughout high school, I didn’t go to many. I hate people in general. Then you mix alcohol and drugs with it, and I just can’t deal with them.
The house of Lords throws parties all the time, and although I tolerate them, I don’t drink at them. Too many opportunities for s**t to go wrong. I prefer to be levelheaded and in control. That way,
