Lost Boys_A Dark High School Bully Romance by Eva Ashwood

Author:Eva Ashwood [Ashwood, Eva]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-08-16T05:00:00+00:00

Eighteen

I never would’ve thought I’d feel out of place when it came to a party. I’d been to so many with my parents that the concept of “social gathering” was probably ingrained in my DNA somewhere, to be honest.

Smiles, politics, and flattery. Cocktails, five to seven course meals, and glasses full of the finest champagne—those were all the things I was used to at the parties I’d attended.

But a party with Slateview students was nothing like the refined parties I was used to making appearances at with my parents. When we pulled up to the house a couple miles from where Mom and I lived, there were already dozens of cars out front, haphazardly parked alongside the worn-out sidewalk. Deep, pounding bass blared from within, and I got the distinct impression that most of the neighbors didn’t care, since the central house on the block wasn’t the only one where something was going on.

It did seem, however, that the central house was the main hub of entertainment. It was the one that the Lost Boys parked in front of in a space that felt suspiciously like it had been reserved for them.

As we walked inside, I recognized faces from school, kids everywhere holding red plastic cups and moving their bodies to the music that sounded even louder now.

The other thing I noticed quickly was how much skin was on display. It was everywhere.

I would’ve felt overdressed if it weren’t for the fact that I had on a pair of cut-off shorts made from custom tailored jeans and a crop top that I’d fashioned out of one of my old shirts—my outfit was still tame compared to some girls, but at least I didn’t stand out too badly.

When I’d stepped out of the bedroom, Bishop had said I had a surprisingly good figure for a little rich girl. I was still trying to figure out what that was supposed to mean as we made our way through the house, the Lost Boys flanking me as if they dared anyone to cross my path or even look at me funny.

No one did. It was almost comical—and maybe it was due to the copious amounts of alcohol being consumed—but people actually said hello to me. Jovial, red faces grinned or nodded in my direction, Solo cups were lifted up in cheers, and the Lost Boys were greeted with the respect I was sure they’d spent years earning.

I was grateful for the fact that we moved quickly through the main section of the house, not lingering too long. It was the loudest and most chaotic area, and honestly, we’d been at the party less than five minutes and my ears had already started hurting. Instead of mingling with the “common folk”, as Misael playfully muttered into my ear, we headed toward the “VIP section”.

I had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but I was pretty sure there wouldn’t be champagne in crystal flutes in that section either.

The VIP section was downstairs, in

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