When Darkness Falls (Book 1, the Darkness Falls Series)

Chapter Eleven

Brandon angled himself so he was right behind me and pulled me flush against his body. His arms encircled my waist in an oddly intimate gesture, thumbs stroking my stomach. Just as I was debating whether I should pull away and pretend nothing had happened, or tell him he was getting too touchy-feely, I felt the wetness of his lips on my neck. 

I froze. 

Either Brandon didn't notice I'd gone rigid or he was too drunk to care. He cuddled me tighter against him and his tongue flicked over my neck. 

Luke's face flashed into my mind and I pulled away, fighting to get Brandon's hands off me. He stared at me, his face crumpled lines of hurt and confusion. He said something that I couldn't hear over the noise. I tried to tell him I was sorry, but the words wouldn't come out. Brandon tried to take my hand and I wrenched away, darting out of the crowd and out of the living room. I thought I heard Riley shouting something after me but I didn't turn back. 

I made my way to the kitchen. What had just happened? Looking back, I realised how easy it had been for Brandon to misconstrue my willingness to dance with him as romantic interest. The memory of his lips on my neck made me shudder. I wasn't attracted to him but I'd known that when I agreed to dance. Riley would have said it was okay not to be attracted to him, just have a little drunken snog and enjoy myself. Phantom-Kiara would have done it without a second thought. So why couldn't I? 

I knew the answer even though I didn't want to admit it to myself.  

It was because of Luke. 

I didn't know what there was between us, but when Brandon had touched me, it had felt weirdly like I was betraying Luke in some way. And that was ridiculous. I couldn't betray him if he wasn't even mine.

The punch bowl was a great red beacon in the middle of the kitchen table, beckoning me over. I made a beeline for it. Alcohol suddenly seemed like a really good way to clear the confusion out of my head. 

I downed a glass of punch like it was fruit juice. Warmth pooled in my stomach but my head was still whirling. What did Luke have to do with my private life? Why would he care if I'd kissed Brandon? I tipped more punch down my throat, my eyes watering as the alcohol burned my throat. Why did I feel so guilty about what happened with Brandon? Another glass of punch and the confusion started to slide out of my head, replaced by a warm wooziness.  

A figure broke away from the gaggle of girls congregating around the vodka jelly-shots and strode towards me. I blinked, recognising Georgia's curly black mane and perpetual scowl. She crossed her arms across her chest and looked me up and down. Her lip twisted in contempt, but something like envy flashed through her eyes.  

I felt a little surge of triumph.  

"Didn't really think this was your scene," Georgia sniffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder.  

I shrugged, but my fingers curled a little tighter around my glass. Georgia hated me. I've never known why, but it occurred to me that I was alone right now, whereas Georgia had a giggling pack of friends hovering behind her. I felt cornered. 

Adrenaline spiked my blood as my fighting instinct reared its head. I wasn't frightened of Georgia. She was petty and mean, but I didn't think she'd ever take an actual swing at me. And if she did, she'd live to regret it. What made me uneasy around her was reminding myself to hold back. I was supposed to keep my head down and not draw attention to myself. I figured breaking Georgia's nose was a sure-fire way of drawing attention to myself.  

"What do you want, Georgia?" I sighed. 

"I saw you in there with Brandon." Georgia jerked her head towards the living room.