“What the actual fuck?” Trihn’s eyes scanned the row of cars. She had never seen this many people parked outside of his place.
She had to drive practically a mile away from the house to find a parking spot. She trudged the distance back to his place and cursed herself for the sexy Louboutins that graced her feet. She could dance in them for hours, but one normal walk pissed her off to no end.
Or maybe it was just the anticipation of seeing Neal.
She hadn’t heard one peep from him since he’d slammed that door in her face. Now, her stomach was in knots as she was about to come face-to-face with him all over again.
Trihn took a deep breath and walked up the driveway. He was the one who had dumped her. She didn’t have anything else to say to him. She just needed her sketchbook, and then she would get out of there. She had done enough dwelling in the past lately.
She could hear music through the door and was surprised there hadn’t already been a noise complaint. She tentatively knocked, unsure of what she would find inside.
Neal had always hated the fact that she loved to party. He had his tight-knit group of friends that he liked to go out with, but he’d claimed it was nothing like her hanging out with Bryna and Stacia. She had believed him until the moment a chick opened the door in a skimpy skirt and bralette top. She had electric-blue hair shaved on one side and thick dark eyeliner.
The girl gave Trihn a once-over and then laughed. “Wrong house,” she said before starting to slam the door in Trihn’s face.
Trihn’s hand shot out. “I’m here to see Neal.”
“Really?” she asked. She seemed a little drunk or high or something. Her eyes were glazed, and she looked out of it.
“Yeah. So, if you’ll just excuse me.” Trihn walked past the girl without another word.
The house was a wreck. Everywhere, people were holding red Solo cups brimming with beer, and the smell of pot clogged her lungs the instant she stepped inside. She coughed twice and pressed through the throng of people.
“How do you know Neal? You’re a little out of place,” the girl said, still behind Trihn.
“It really doesn’t matter. I just need to see Neal, and then I have somewhere else to be.”
“He’s probably in the kitchen with the keg.”
Trihn startled. “Keg?”
Maybe she was at the wrong house. Neal had never been to a kegger in his life that she hadn’t forced him to attend. There was no way that he had a keg in his house.
Trihn pushed her way into the kitchen, and there he was, exactly as she remembered him…except not.
There was definitely a keg in his kitchen. He had a red Solo cup in his hand, and beer pong was set up on a table. She blinked to try to clear the image, but it didn’t go away.
Neal finally noticed her standing there, and a slow smile spread on his face. He held his arms wide and laughed. “Well, look who we have here.”
“I just came for my sketchbook. Didn’t realize this would be a bad time,” she said softly. She was having a hard time mixing the Neal she had known with this reality before her.
“It’s not a bad time. This is a perfect time. Come have a drink, Trihn. This is right up your alley,” Neal teased, gesturing to the keg.
“You’re Trihn?” the girl with blue hair asked from behind her.
Oh, great. My reputation preceded me. “Neal, the sketchbook?”
“Too good for our party?” Neal asked.
He strolled over to her, and she knew that walk. He was wasted. And when Neal got drunk, he either got arrogant or mean. It was worse when he was both. Tonight was not her lucky night.
“You broke up with me. I just want to get my stuff and get out of your life. So, can we hurry this up?” she asked.
She tried to keep her voice even and level, but by the way he was looking at her, she knew that she had failed.
“Is that what you really want?”
Neal ran his knuckles down her cheek, and she flinched away from him.
“Stop. Why are you doing this?” she whispered.
He had ended things. He had stomped on her heart. He was the one who was supposed to be cold and distant. She didn’t want him to touch her…yet her heart betrayed her. His touch was comforting and easy. She had stayed with him all that time because everything about him was familiar. But she couldn’t do this tug-of-war.
“What do you think? That I want you back?” he asked, taking a hit to his ego with her rejection.
She knew it tipped him over the edge from arrogant into mean.
“Kicking you to the curb was the best day of my life.”
“Fine,” she said. She would not cry. Her heart was pitter-pattering around in her chest, and she had to breathe in and out through her mouth to control it. But she would not leak one tear. “Can I have my fucking sketchbook now?”
“Yeah, let’s get it.”
The girl grabbed his arm as he passed and said something into his ear.