Duodēcim

The party is in full swing and I'm fairly certain that every student from Hunter's Woods is here. The crowd pours outward from the fire and The Rock out into the woods with different kids coupling off to go fuck in the outskirts. We're teenagers, it happens.

I'm currently halfway through my second whiskey and hot chocolate, my favorite drink with Irish cream. Despite my outburst at the pep rally, Brock was kind enough to remember this is my favorite drink and come out with the supplies for it, given that the party is in my honor and all. He's not all bad, I guess.

"This is quite the turnout," Ronnie mused from her camping chair nestled close to mine as we sit by the fire to leach its warmth.

"Yeah. I don't even think most of these people know my name, and the ones who do, don't know it's my birthday," I say with a shrug. Once it would've been important for me to be the center of attention at my own party. A status symbol. A piece of the part that I play. Now? It seems so trivial.

Across from us, next to the kegs, Poe is making eyes at one of the seniors on the football team, part of Brock's crew. Gentry? Jenson? I don't remember his name. He's cute in that jock way with a barely tamed mop of dirty blonde hair on top of a dimpled smile. He's sporting his letterman jacket just like the rest of his team. God forbid that no one knows they are on the football team, right?

"Are you going to homecoming with Brock?" Veronica asks, leaning into me and cupping her hand to whisper the words in my ear as though we're conspiring together. I nearly spit out my drink.

"Yeah, that's not happening. Why does everyone want me to get back together with Brock so bad?"

Giving me a look of incredulity, Veronica leans back as though she was just slapped, a look of offense painted over her usually calm features. "Because Brock is it. He's the most popular boy in school. He's the captain of the football team. He's hot. It would be laughable to just leave all that on the table for someone else to snatch up."

I knit my brows together. "If he's so fucking great, why don't you date him, Ronnie? I don't like Brock. I hate being alone with him and the sex isn't worth the three minutes it takes."

The tension melts from her at that moment, no doubt realizing that she's being a bitch and overplaying her hand. "Sorry, I didn't mean to piss you off, it's your birthday and all, but what's up with you and Oakley?"

I quirk a brow. So she's noticed that then, has she? I bring the coffee mug holding my steamy beverage to my lips before blowing over the top of it, sending a small whisper of steam into the ether. "I don't know. We click."

Veronica throws herself back in her chair dramatically, dropping her chin in a barely contained pout. Obviously, she didn't like this answer, but I'm not sure what she wants me to say? If he likes me, why can't I go for it? The last time this happened was in the eighth grade. She liked Thomas Kirby, but he liked me. I let it go. I let her chase Tom. When she finally caught up with him, he was more than happy to date her for a month and then he dumped her on her ass. He moved a couple of years back, which is for the best. The tension between us over the one that got away never faded with time. I'm not looking for a repeat of Kirbygate. Veronica and Poe are my ride-or-die. Period.

After a moment of simmering within the charged silence, Veronica finally concedes in the most Veronica way possible. "Fine. You need it more than me right now anyway."

"Yeah, sure. Thanks," I say using every bit of strength in me to suppress the eye roll that wants to find its way to the surface. Placing both feet on the dirt and gravel, I pull myself from my chair, leaving my black Hunter's Woods lap blanket in it so everyone knows that the seat is claimed.

I make my way toward Poe, looking for some sort of conversation that isn't completely contrived and stitched together out of fake niceties. I love Veronica, but some subjects are just too hard to navigate with her, and this is one of them. I'm not letting her ruin my buzz.

About three steps into my journey I see Brock leaving his group of friends and start taking long strides toward me with his equally long legs, eating up the distance between us faster than I can think. I swerve, going in the opposite direction and almost collide with Oakley in the process. The smell of leather and soap assaulted my senses. That's what Oakley smells like. New Car Smell. Makes sense, he is - in all ways - my new favorite car.

His eyes glitter down at me holding the promise of whatever kind of trouble I'm up for. His hands hold my shoulders where he reached out to stop me from my forward momentum while on my collision course with his firm muscular chest. The place where our skin touches tingles with awareness causing desire to light every vein in my body, pulsing through me with each beat of my heart.

A shy smile sneaks onto my lips. "Hey, sorry. I was just..."

Oakley looks over my shoulder and catches sight of Brock who I can only hope has stopped his pursuit seeing me locked in an intimate conversation with a guy he seems altogether unimpressed with.

Ghostine his hand down my arm to find my hand, he pulls me toward the forest.

"Come on," he says with the hint of a smirk playing on his face. He doesn't have to ask me twice as I will my boots to move in the direction of the darkness with this man who I barely know. This man could be anyone, but is also the only man who has ever inspired this kind of wanting within me. A hunger so deep there is only one thing that can satiate it. And he's currently grasping my hand like he couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

We make it about fifty yards into the thicket of trees, the sound of the party becoming more distant with each step that we take. The crunch of the few fall leaves that have already browned echoes up from the forest floor, the light from the fire at The Rock sneaking through the trees making the area we're currently occupying somehow seem even darker than it is in actuality.

When we slow to a stop, Oakley presses me against a tree before looking down at me. The darkness makes his features hard to discern, but the slight bit of moonlight that is breaking through the canopy plays off the whites of his eyes as they assess me slowly.

Closing the gap between us, Oakley presses his body flush against mine leaving me pinioned between him and the large oak I'm currently leaning against. Making his intention clear with slight movements, he slowly drops his head until his lips press into mine. Without realizing it I rise up on my toes, eagerly lifting my mouth to meet his as though it was a foregone conclusion written in the stars.

His tongue leisurely explores mine, tasting me in a lazy caress. When I widen my mouth to deepen this kiss further it turns hungry, bringing my desire to a fever pitch. One of his hands is at my hips, slowly slinking up under the mesh green top Veronica insisted I wear, the pads of his callused fingers drifting across my skin with no particular destination in mind. I was so worried about being cold, but the cold has nothing to do with the goosebumps erupting throughout my body at this moment.

Pulling back, I glance back up to glimpse his eyes, to read what he holds within them, instead, catching a glint of something else being exposed by the moonlight as it shines across the long silver blade. I have no time to think before Oakley moves to plunge the knife into my chest making every muscle in my body tense in anticipation. Right when the metal should be parting through my flesh toward my heart, it collides against my skin with a quiet 'tink' as though my skin is a hard surface. Like granite. The sound of the collision seemed clamorous against the relative silence of the forest.

Panic froze me only a moment before I regained my composure, waving my hands and bringing an immediate stop to everything around me. Sliding myself out of the space between Oakley and the tree as the bark bites at my back on the contact, I make my way back toward the thrum of the party, which is also at a complete standstill. The fire sends sparks into the sky like tiny fireflies caught in a ripple in time.

I find my way to Poe and quickly attempt to move my hand in a similar way as I did only moments before, suppressing my panic as I hope to send this skipping record forward. To my surprise, it works and Poe comes to, finding me holding her hands with empty frightened eyes. "We need to go. Right. Now."

Without a second thought, Poe immediately abandons the conversation she was having with the same jock from earlier. I walk toward the cars and make a call to Veronica telling her to meet us at the parking spots. After a few moments of whining she agreed, begrudgingly. My second call was to Brock who I beg to take us home in his Forerunner, bartering a promise of a date when he protested. Once all the calls are done, my adrenaline wears off and my hands begin to tremble.

"What the fuck is going on?" Poe asks.

I swallow hard. "I think Oakley just tried to kill me."