Unwanted (bxb)

Chapter 11

Justin's POV

My mind was cloudy. The only thing that mattered to me was payback. Major payback. I kept thinking over and over about Maddie's and Dylan's lips touching. It was disgusting. Just imagining it made me want to throw up. I saw everything in red. I was blinded by hatred, pain, and a profound need for revenge.

I was in my closet taking off my clothes, and on the other side of the wall was a girl I'd just met two hours ago who was patiently waiting on my bed for me to finish. I couldn't show up at the races in a suit and tie, let alone in thousand of dollar shoes. I put on a pair of khaki shorts with a draw string, a white shirt, and some white Nikes. You can't look like a Goody Two-shoes in a place like that, so I was happy to have on all that expensive stuff off, even if it wasn't my usual thing. I kept my hair the same because the style was nice.

I had exactly one thought in my head: hooking up with the hottest and baddest girl there. That would make me feel satisfied, less used, less deceived, and like less of an idiot, even if deep down I knew none of that could erase reality: I was destroyed and struggling to hold my heart together.

Had Dylan told Maddie everything I'd confessed to him? Had they laughed at me while I was still trying to give it my all in my first and only relationship? Had they planned this?

I took a deep breath and tried to control my pain, even though I felt like this was coming. But it still hurts.

When I stepped out, Xana, the bartender I'd just met, stared at me admiringly, and I knew I'd achieved the effect I was going for.

"You look good," she said. She smiled, and I responded in a kind way. I was kind of in the mood for stupid compliments.

"Thanks, but not as good as you," I said, grabbing my phone and wallet off the bed and heading for the door. "Shall we?"

Xana stood up and followed me, and soon, we were climbing into her car.

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Half an hour later, Xana turned off onto a secondary road surrounded by dry fields and dust. As we drove on, I could no longer hear the cars on the freeway. Instead it was just repetitive music getting louder and louder.

"You ever done something like this before?" Xana asked, both hands on the steering wheel.

"I've been in quite a few races, yeah," I said in a surly tone.

She looked over and then back at the road. Then I saw tons of people in the distance and neon lights around a deserted area full of badly parked cars.

The music was deafening. The people there were between twenty and thirty. Everyone was drinking, dancing, and partying like this was the last day of their lives. Xana stopped close to where most of them were and got out, waiting for me to do the same.

"What is this place?" I asked her, and she chuckled.

"Don't worry, these are the spectators. The important people are the ones over there," she said, pointing to the left, where a big group of guys and girls were lying on the hoods of fancy souped-up cars with god-awful music blasting from their trunks.

I saw fluorescent fabrics all around, and beneath the headlights which were the main source of light out there they glowed brightly. Many of the girls had painted their bodies and even their faces in fluorescent paint.

"I see you pay attention to the details," Xana said. I had no idea what she was talking about. But then she pointed at my hair, and I took out my phone that has a mirror case, and flipped it around and saw that whatever my mother had sprayed all over me was now shining on my pale skin like a thousand little fluorescent dots.