The party was already in progress; Asswipe Jones lit a fire on the small beach, and a radio was playing. Two or three couples were out on the dock, smooching. There was laughter and a shriek as Angela Mitchum’s date, a kid from Corning, picked her up and threatened to throw her in the water.
Bryce and Tanya weren’t the only ones drinking. Colleen made the rounds and ensured that those who were had a ride with a sober driver; most of the kids had come via limo; Colleen had seen one parked on the street, the driver smoking a cigarette and talking on the phone.
After a while, most of the couples left. It had gotten colder, and the night was winding down. There were still a few couples left—the drinkers, naturally.
Sigh. The curse of the designated driver. She’d volunteered, after all. She checked her phone, hoping to call Con to alleviate her boredom. No cell service down here, though.
Stifling a yawn, she sat down on the sand, which was a little chilly. The stars stretched and blazed above, and a comet streaked across the eastern sky, and then her eyes were closed.
She awoke to the sound of angry voices.
“Fuck you, pretty boy,” someone was saying. Great. It was Jake Green, one of the too-privileged lacrosse players. He’d been the first of the nine who’d asked Colleen to the prom and was now talking to Bryce out on the dock.
Colleen got up. Tanya was sitting with her head in her hands, crying. “What happened?” Colleen said, putting an arm around her. “Honey? You okay?”
“My shoe broke,” Tanya sobbed. “See?” She held it up for inspection. “The heel just snapped. And they’re so pretty!”
Colleen sighed. People who couldn’t hold their liquor really shouldn’t drink. “What’s going on out there?” She pointed to the dock.
“I dunno,” Tanya mumbled, tears falling on the wounded shoe. “I’m tired.”
“I’ll get Bryce and we can go.”
“Good.” With that, she lay down on the sand, her wounded shoe cradled against her chest, and closed her eyes.
The voices were louder now. The moon had risen higher, fat and full, shining across the lake in a wide path of white light, allowing Colleen to see who was out there with Bryce. In addition to Jake were his minions (because all irritating rich boys had to have minions)—Jase Ross and Chris Eckbert—Crabbe and Goyle to Jake’s Draco Malfoy. Their three dates appeared to have left.
“I don’t know why you’re mad. I meant it as a compliment,” Bryce said.
“Hey, guys,” Colleen said. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, you’re here?” Jake sneered. “I thought you were too good for the prom.”
“No, no, not too good, Jake. I’m only here as a designated driver. Speaking of that, Bryce, can we go? I’m tired, and Tanya is, too.”
“Fuck you, O’Rourke,” Jake said. “Mind your own business.”
“He’s mad at me,” Bryce whispered (loudly). “I told him I thought he looked like Cameron Diaz.”
Colleen bit down on a smile. Jake was indeed blond and blue-eyed.
“You’re gonna be sorry you said that, idiot,” Jake said.
“Oh, come on,” Colleen said. “He’s drunk, Jake. And you do look like Cameron Diaz, right, Crabbe? Right, Goyle?” She smiled at Jase and Chris, who, uncertain of how to respond, glanced at Jake.
“Bryce, let’s get going,” she said, starting toward him. He answered with a crooked smile.
“Hold on,” Jake said, and then put his hand on Bryce’s chest and shoved, almost gently.
“Dude,” Bryce murmured. His legs buckled, and Colleen realized that at some point, Bryce had gone from sloppy to shit-faced. This was confirmed when he lay back on the dock. “I don’t feel so good,” he muttered.
“I don’t feel so good,” Jake echoed in a high-pitched voice. “I bet you don’t, pussy.” His minions laughed, and Jake gave a tentative kick to Bryce’s ribs.
“Knock it off!” Colleen said.
“Hey,” Bryce said faintly, sounding more surprised than hurt.
She took a step toward them, stopping as Jake turned and looked at her, a speculative expression drifting over his face.
The cold lance of fear that slid through her stomach was almost alarming.
Jake was in front of her. Jase and Chris were behind her.
Oh, shit.
That was the thing about life in a small town. Once, they’d all been friends, more or less—all forty-nine kids in the senior class, back in the day of Halloween parties and field trips to the local cemetery. But somewhere in high school, things changed. Cliques formed, circles closed, and before you knew it, you could lose track of a person.
And Colleen had definitely lost track of Jake. She’d rebuffed him a few times, starting in seventh grade, not liking his rich-boy superiority, his casual dismissal of the girls who liked him. Chris and Jase, too, had never been her favorites. Chris wasn’t that bad, just kind of a jerk. But Jase had a mean streak, too.
Suddenly, they seemed...dangerous.
Without looking away from her, Jake gave Bryce another oddly gentle kick, as if trying to see if he enjoyed it. Bryce appeared to have passed out.
“You think he’d drown if we rolled him in the lake?” Jake asked.
The minions snickered
This night was heading south. Fast.
“Okay, that’s enough, boys,” she said briskly. “Help me get him to the car.” Yes. Give them the chance to be on her side, to change the dynamic.
Chris and Jase didn’t move, waiting for instructions from their leader.
“You think you’re better than everyone, don’t you, Colleen?” Jake said softly, looking her up and down.
And all of a sudden, Colleen was—there was no more denying it—genuinely scared. Her knees buzzed, and her heart kicked in her chest.
“Jake, come on,” she said, and she hated the fact that her voice shook. “Let’s call it a night.”
“I don’t think so. This prom sucked, and I want some fun.” Another kick to Bryce, resulting in a soft grunt and nothing else.
“Don’t hurt him,” she said, her voice breaking.
“What will you do for us if we don’t?” Jake asked.
Colleen swallowed.
There was no cell service down here.
Tanya was sleeping on the shore.
And no one else was around.
If only Connor had come, because she always felt stronger and smarter when her twin was around. Connor would die before letting anyone hurt her. If only Jeremy was here, because he was tall and strong and honorable. Or Levi Cooper, who was badass and had a protective streak. Or Big Frankie, or any number of nicer, more decent boys.
But they hadn’t. She was on her own.
“I’m glad you came down here, O’Rourke,” Jake said. “Guys, aren’t you glad? Coll, so nice of you to come! Yeah, I think we can all use a little fun, sure. And everyone knows how much fun you are.” His eyes drifted down her body, then up again, stopping on her breasts.
Jesus God in Heaven.
You read about stuff like this. Saw those awful reports on CNN. Stuff like this