Heaven's Crime (gxg) ✓

one. hell of a party

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this book is dedicated to fannie
for being the first to fall in love with their story
i love you.

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                "I'm not going." 

                "You're going."

                "I'm not."

                "Yes, you are."

                Thirty minutes later, I am dressed in a slutty pumpkin costume―and don't ask how it's slutty. It just is.

                Standing on the doorsteps of Adam Rochester's house in the chill October weather, shivering in the barely-there costume next to Lindsay Sheer, I can't help but regret all the life decisions I made that led to this one.

                The echo of the doorbell is still lingering in the cold air when the door is flung open. 

                It takes me two seconds to deduce that the person greeting us―dressed as Mr. Incredible―is not the owner of the house. But he waves us in anyway, the fruit punch in his red Solo Cup sloshing onto his shoes, grinning like he's the Cheshire Cat.

                "Jesus," I mutter to Lindsay. She takes off her mittens―the only article of winter clothing she relented to wearing. What, exactly, is the point of wearing mittens without a jacket? A hat? A scarf? Or pants, for that matter?

                 I follow her through the enormous hallways and try not to stare. The chandeliers are burnished in gold and the paintings hanging on the walls are originals. 

                 Rich. These people are rich.

                 Well, what was I expecting from a party in Santa Monica?

                 "I can't believe I let you drag me into this," I whisper. It's not even ten, and there are people black-out drunk, sprawled out on various items of antique furniture. "The polish on these wooden floors probably costs more than my net worth."

                 "Don't be ridiculous," Lindsay says, falling into place next to a tall fraternity boy in pastel pink khakis. To me, she says, "You don't have a net worth. You're in debt."

                 The boy rakes a hand through his sand-brown hair and grins. Oblivious. "I like your costume," he says to Lindsay.

                  "Of course you like her costume," I say under my breath. She is dressed as a slutty pink bunny―think Legally Blonde. 

                  Lindsay runs her tongue over her lower lip, a casual caress. Almost like an unsuspecting fly in a spider's web, the boy's eyes linger on her mouth as she says, "What are you dressed as?"

                  This isn't exactly something I want to stick around for. 

                  "I'm going to go find―um, fruit punch," I say, and I kiss Lindsay's cheek. Whispering, "Be good. And if he's passed out on our living room couch tomorrow morning, I'm moving out."

                   She laughs and says, "Try not to leave before 11 p.m., please? Parties can actually be fun. It's kind of the point."