Burning Moth

Chapter Nine, Part One - Your Turn

The day after my step-brother threatened me with total annihilation, I recieved an SOS from one of my more trusted clients. Alexander Kaul was a fellow freshman, and also a fresh pledge to the Alpha Phi Alphas–or the Alpha's, as they were more commonly known around campus. Too many wild nights spent chasing girls and getting hazed had left him ill-prepared for an upcoming Chemistry exam, and Alexander was in desperate need.

I was at his service.

Since chasing paper was in my DNA, that night I let the trail lead me to a bash on campus–a gorgeous frat house defiled by beer and bubbles, the last foam party of the season. Alexander had texted that his room was on the third floor–but there was no need for reminder.

It wasn't like this was my first visit.

I meandered through the crowd, batting aside the bubbles and dance requests until I found the staircase. On the way up, I double-checked the strings on my yellow bikini top. I had paired it with skinny jeans and high tops–a carless, spur-of-the-moment decision on my part–and still received twice as many looks as the bitches half naked.

And I wasn't even trying.

God, I loved frat parties.

I banged on Alexander's door until the handsome, brown-skinned boy poked his head through the crack. Even more than the money, I appreciated Alex for his good looks. He had these dark, tousled locks he usually kept in a bun, with sleepy almond eyes that glittered like onyx. Yet it wasn't his face I admired the most. When it came to Alexander the d ran deep, like the family oil in Saudi Arabia.

"Ready to marry me yet?" he asked, pulling the trigger on a fully loaded smile. Alexander was a nonstop bullshitter, never serious about anyone or anything–except his shoe size.

I gave him my prettiest smile. "Parts of you anyway." I reached in my back pocket, removing a folded slip of paper. I held it up, wriggling it between my fingers. "Now make me happy."

"That's it?" he replied, a single eyebrow raised. "Where's the rest?"

"Whatcha see is whatcha get, home slice. It's not like I needed to kill a million trees to get you the answer key to Monday's test."

Alexander reached for the paper but I moved it teasingly out of reach. He grinned.

"Right," he said, and pulled a wad of cash from his pocket. Alexander slapped the money into my palm, his fingers lingering in familiar expectation.

Skin on skin.

More specifically, his skin on mine.

Smiling, I rolled my eyes and pulled from his reach, but I knew he hadn't missed my reluctance. Alexander sneered. Let a boy go down on you once or four times and it always went straight to his head.

"What?" he challenged. "Got better plans or something?"

I paused, glancing over his shoulder to the single bed lying in wait behind him. It might as well have been done up in flashing lights with arrow signs–for obvious reasons. According to society's standards, Alexander was a heedless manwhore and I was an insatiable slut–the perfect combination–and boy did we fit together nicely. Yet, oddly enough, when I pictured myself in Alexander's sheets... there were someone else's arms around me.

"Text me when you really need me... Later, Gator." I twiddled my fingers at Alex's disappointment, sashaying away.

Downstairs, as Tove Lo instructed the crowd to do with their bodies the very thing I was trying so hard to avoid, I made my way towards the exit. Far be it from me to pass up on hot guys and cheap beer, but the topic of celibacy put a damper on things. Just as I was passing the beer bong table, I caught a familiar flash of color–yellow and black, a girl with sting. Blondies in leather jacket never failed to catch my eye.

Especially if said girl was Chloe Brinks.

I veered to the right, plunging into the heart of the crowd to confront the so-called friend who had kept me in the freezer for days now. Tonight, the Ice Queen dazzled like the bubbles that danced with her, showing off her curves in a black bikini bra and cut-off denim shorts. The guy clinging to her like a giant appendage just couldn't look away.

I strode up to Chloe and politely tapped her shoulder. Her response was a glance that went right through me–the glass stare of evil–before she turned her back again like we never met.

BITCH!!!

I glared at the back of her head, wondering how hard I should deliver this reality chop to the neck... and thought of something better.

Referring back to an old trick in the hat, I danced.

I let the music in and it carried me away... right between Chloe and the guy she was dancing with. He was hot, but clearly a pledge. Who else would put on a My Little Ponies t-shirt, wear a tiara, and carry a magic wand? It was just like the Alphas to dress their brothers as fairy princesses and throw bubble parties–but I was no one to complain–the props were fun in bed.

It didn't take long to grab the beauty king's attention. Once those doe-eyes fastened on mine, it was a rap, son.

I didn't ask permission, bad bitches never do. I snaked in between my friend and hers, looping my arms around BK's neck like Chloe was just there to keep him warm. BK didn't seem to mind–the transition was smoother than the money in my pocket. Chloe was good at grinding against boys–but that was pretty much the extent of her dancing. I knew how to move. Showing her up was cake, and I reveled in my glory–BK and I bopping like old sweethearts as Chloe danced in rage...

It didn't last long.

Ruthless as a Band-Aid, Chloe ripped me away from the guy I had stolen. The entire time she dragged me through the party I could feel her manicured nails biting into my skin. Outside, she let go of my arm, just to hem me up against some bushes. When I straightened she shoved me again.

"What the hell, Scar! His parents bought him a Porshe! You're lucky he wasn't a client, smart-ass!"

"Takes one to know one. Look, I get you're still pissed at me about Savannah--but I'm on your side, bitch."

Chloe's eyes narrowed in disbelief. "What about Nicholias? He's still an issue--"

"He's not. Nicholias hates his family. If he had to pick a side he'd choose mine."

Funny how all of a sudden I could say that with such conviction. Even if I didn't quite believe it yet, I still wanted to.

"Well, you better hope he really is a team player--because if you tell him any of this, and his mother finds out--we're both dead, Scar."

"Find out about what, Chlo? What have you been up to?" After the fit she threw the last time I saw her, a medium-sized part of me worried she would panic and take the watch straight to the police.

Yet Chloe didn't appear the least bit concerned. In fact, her smirk spread like a disease with no cure–fast and wide and without mercy. "Let's just say, Savannah knew things about your little boyfriend's family--now I know things too, and for the first time in Republican history... the Dixons are gonna pay."

According to Chloe's smile, she was going for broke.

* * *

IT'S GOING DOWN FOR REALLLLLLLLLLLL!!! *in my Flo Rida voice*

What do you guys think so far? I have a lot of ideas for this story and I really hope I'm taking it in the right direction. Let me know how you're feeling! I Drop me a comment, and if you really like the story pretty please vote for Scar and Nick! Thanks guys! XOXO