Fallen Crest Forever (Fallen Crest High #7)

“Huh?”


“Did Matteo wife up?” I asked, trying to explain.

“No!” Grace’s entire face flared up. “No. I mean . . . no.”

“All the more reason for tonight.” Heather clapped her hands together. “I have a feeling I won’t need to be here much longer, so how about we go to a club and pretend we’re all single ladies tonight.” She held her hands out. “Not as in hooking up with guys, but some fun drinking and dancing. No guys involved. We can do stupid dances, if we want.”

“We have a race tomorrow.” Courtney looked at me. “Coach asked me earlier if you were going to come.”

I wasn’t.

I said, “I’ll email him.”

Coach would understand, and I would start running again tomorrow. It’d been two weeks, and I was feeling the itch to pound pavement. I wouldn’t be able to stay away now that I felt sturdier.

I knew I could stop.

“Will one bad race affect you guys that much?” Heather asked.

I had to laugh. Heather wasn’t messing around. We were going to drink. We were going to dance. And we were probably going to get fucked up doing it.



Why we were outside the loud nightclub still escaped me, but we were here. Taylor was coming, and Courtney and Grace were in line right next to Heather and me. The music was booming, and the rest of the people in line with us were talking, complaining, smoking, or already dancing. I’d been to the club once before, when Mason was a freshman and I was visiting him from Fallen Crest. Nate’s fraternity had a private room that night.

That felt so long ago.

Heather snuffed out her second cigarette and came back over. “This is ridiculous.” Her hands found her slim hips as she surveyed the line. “Can’t you use Mason’s name to get us inside? If he were here, you know we’d get in right away.”

“Yeah, but Mason and I broke up.”

She waved that off. “Yeah, right. You’ll get drunk tonight, call him, and I’ll end up sleeping on the couch. I can read the writing on the wall.” She rolled her eyes. “Sorry. I’m not the most patient one.”

Her phone had buzzed nonstop the first couple days after she came to Cain, but it had stopped after she stepped outside for a heated conversation with Channing. I knew he’d come up with her and spent time with the guys, but I wasn’t sure what had happened after that.

“You and Channing have a fight?”

She groaned.

“I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, still scanning the line. “It’s fine. He partied with the guys for a night, then headed back to Roussou. There are things going on with his sister, and he’s got this idea we should chill for a while, for her benefit. It’s all bullshit.”

She’d mentioned Channing’s sister before, but I’d never met her. “I’m sorry I’ve not been the best friend this week.”

She squeezed my arm gently. “Samantha, seriously. You and Mason broke up. Granted, I don’t think that’s going to last long, but still. That’s apocalypse sort of stuff. Like, end of the world stuff—”

“Are you Samantha Strattan?”

A security guard stopped and blinked a few times at me as he passed.

“Yeah?”

Heather nodded. “That’s Mason Kade’s fiancée. And she’s an Olympic hopeful.”

“What are you doing in line?” He motioned for us to come with him and gestured to the other security guards at the door. “Just tell those guys who you are. You should never have to wait.” He led the way and held the door for us. As we swept in, he winked. “Just use my name if they don’t believe you.”

“And your name would be?” Heather turned to walk backward behind me. Her tone dropped low.

“Bass.”

“Bass?”

I glanced back and saw a slow smile spread on his face, his eyes darkened. “Oh yeah. Bass. That’s all you need to find me.”

“I might put that to the test one day,” Heather said.

Courtney and Grace laughed as they ducked around Heather and me to get inside. Once Bass closed the door, the nightclub was startlingly dark—until red, pink, blue, and green neon lights lit the way and we found a bar. That’s when the shots started.

Shot one. Shot two. Three. Four.

It wasn’t long until I was fucked up.

I began feeling the music. The lights blurred around me. The edges of my vision closed so I wasn’t aware of anyone except my friends, and before long, I was smiling. I was laughing. I was enjoying time with these girls. Mason was still with me—he was always there, always in the back of my mind, but he was sleeping right now. He wasn’t active in my mind, not like these friends.

Feeling someone behind me, I turned, a wide smile already on my face.

“Taylor!” I threw my arms around her.

“HEY!” Courtney raised her drink, sliding off her stool, and she hugged Taylor too. “You made it.”

“I did.” Taylor was laughing but as she took us all in, she shook her head slightly. “When you said you were going out for drinks, I thought one or two.” She eyed the half-empty glass in Courtney’s hand and the shot I’d just taken. “How many are you guys on?”

I held up my hand, my fingers spread out. “Seven!”

Grace tripped over to us, giggling, and she held up two fingers next to my hand. “Now that’s right.”

“Oh yeah.” I turned, looping my arm around her shoulders. “Thank you for that. I forgot.”

Heather handed Taylor a glass. “Here. Drink up. You have a long way to catch up.”

Taylor took it, still eyeing us with raised eyebrows. “We’re cabbing it home, right?”

I nodded. Even drunk, my cheeks were hurting. “And no calling Logan for a ride.”

She would call him, and he’d call Mason, and both of them would come, and then Mason would find me. We’d find a dark corner, and tonight would be for nothing. I held up a finger. “Tonight is about friends. Not boys. Friends.”

Taylor watched me, sober.

Courtney’s eyes were glazed over as she propped an elbow on the bar to rest her head. She was watching me. So was Grace, weaving, her cheeks flushed, and a hand over her mouth to keep in the infectious giggles that’d been spilling out all night long. And then Heather stood next to Taylor. Her long dirty-sexy blond hair was messed, and her black eye shadow was smudged, but her eyes were still alert.

I took a moment, looking at all of them watching me back.

They were here because of me, for me.

I opened my arms to them. “I love you guys.” I couldn’t look away from Heather. “How’d I get so lucky? Why do you like me?”

“Oh, Sam.” Taylor sighed.

Courtney brushed a hand over her eyes, and Grace’s hand fell from her mouth.

Heather reached for me. She held me tight, whispering against my hair. “I’ve got my dad and brothers, and I’ve got Channing, but you’re family too. You gave me a family too, you know.”

I clasped on to her. I meant what I said—why did she like me? Why did anyone like me? Some days I was weak, whiny, and wishy-washy. And those were the only W characteristics I could think of when I was intoxicated.