Fair Game (The Rules #1) (14 page)

God, look at me. Yes, me. Straight laced, good girl Jade Frost is hanging out with a billionaire spoiled sexy brat who runs an illegal freaking casino in a house just off campus. What have I done? Who am I, for God’s sake?

Heaving a big sigh, I push open the heavy door and climb out of his luxurious Mercedes, slamming the door behind me. I’m heading up the walk when I spot two girls sitting on a couch on the front porch of the house, the both of them gawking at me like I’m some sort of celebrity who magically appeared.

“Did you just get out of Shep Prescott’s car?” one of them asks, her voice full of wonder.

Oh, here we go. Shep groupies. “I did,” I say with a lift of my chin. I hope they don’t want to beat me up or pull out my hair or whatever.

“Wow,” the other one says, drawing out the word so it sounds more like woooooow. “Rumor has it he doesn’t let
any
girl get in his car. Not even his mom.”

His mom doesn’t even live in this state but whatever. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” the first one pipes up. “He won’t even fuck a girl in the backseat. Too afraid he’ll get his leather interior dirty and sweaty and…wet.” They both dissolve into giggles.

Um, this is awkward. Even more awkward? That what they’re telling me actually makes me…happy. If what they’re saying is true, I feel some sort of strange honor that I’m supposedly the first girl to ride in his car.

“Hey.” The second one straightens up, her giggling coming to a halt. “Aren’t you in my communications class?”

I tilt my head, studying her. She’s cute, with long golden blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail and clear blue eyes. Her boobs are about ready to burst out of the deep V of her pale pink T-shirt and she’s wearing extremely short denim cutoffs. “I think so,” I tell her though truthfully, I don’t recognize her. That class is ginormous though so there’s a good chance she’s right.

“I knew it!” She smiles brightly, her ponytail swishing. “My name is Emily and this is Emma.”

Emily and…Emma? Oh good lord. “Nice to meet you,” I say with a smile.

“We like to call ourselves Em and Em.” Emma smiles and nudges Emily with an elbow. “Get it?”

“Oh yeah,” I say as they start giggling again. “I definitely get it. That’s…cute.”

“We thought so! So hey, are you going inside?” The giggles are gone again and Emily leans in close, like she’s about to confess something big. “I wouldn’t if I were you. There’s some freak sitting at the blackjack table who refuses to leave.”

“We know that freak, you bitch,” Emma says, slapping her arm.

“Right. I think that’s why Shep is here,” I tell her, my gaze going to the window. The blinds are cracked but I can kind of see through them and I try to peer inside, hoping to catch a glimpse of Shep. But I don’t see him.

“Ooh, so are you two fucking exclusively or what?” Emma asks, all perky and cheerleader like. I can imagine her as a cheerleader too. Her dark hair is pulled into a high pony just like Emily’s and she’s wearing a black V neck T-shirt with denim shorts. Just like Emily. In fact, Emma has a pink bow in her hair and Emily has a black bow. As in, they match.

Weird.

“We’re not…fucking,” I tell them, earning disappointed looks from the both of them. I’m tempted to apologize for letting them down. “I barely know him.”

“Honey, you don’t have to know Shepard Prescott to fuck him,” Emily says sarcastically. “I mean, look at the man. He’s fucking gorge.”

I’ve heard of girls who talk like this. I’ve witnessed them in class and even Kelli slips on occasion. Shortening her words, talking in code, tossing out crude words like they’re no big deal. It’s so odd. With my friends back home, we never talked like that.

Of course, we were pretty nerdy.

“Want a drink?” Emma waves a silver flask at me and I blink, wondering where it came from. “Vodka and Redbull. It’ll give you wings.” Emily bursts out laughing and I figure she already found her wings.

“Sure,” I say, because why not? I have no idea how long Shep’s going to take and I could be out on this front porch all night. Besides, Em and Em, they seem harmless.

Emma hands over the flask and I take a sip, then another, wincing as the liquid slides down my throat. It’s sort of awful. I’ve never liked Redbull. I prefer vodka and cranberry juice. But hey, when in Rome…

Within twenty minutes we’ve polished off Emma’s flask and are starting in on Emily’s. Shep still hasn’t come out of the house, I’m giggling like the Em and Em girls and we’re all three relaxing on the couch—because all houses close to the university have a couch on the front porch, duh—passing the flask back and forth between us, careful not to spill a drop.

“Can I confess something to you?” Emma asks me as she wipes the back of her hand across her mouth but somehow she misses. Her lips are still shiny with vodka and Red Bull and her eyes are dilated. She looks spun.

I start to laugh because my head is fuzzy and damn it, I’m a happy drunk. “Sure,” I tell her as I take another sip. Emily’s flask is hot pink. I like it. I need a flask. I’m going to ask for one for my birthday. Or maybe Christmas. It would make a great stocking stuffer. I’m sure my parents won’t mind.

“I thought you were a total stuck up bitch when I first saw you in class.” Emma slaps her hand over her mouth the moment the words tumble out.

“Em!” Emily yells, nudging her so hard Emma goes toppling into my lap. We all start laughing, though deep down, I’m sort of hurt.

She thought I was a bitch? Why? Why do so many people think that? God, even Joel said the same thing to me once we started dating. He admitted he was afraid to approach me and ask me out on a date but somehow worked up the courage. At the time I thought it was cute.

Now I’m thinking maybe I give off some sort of bitch vibe or something. Ugh.

Fucking Joel. Fucking Shep. Fucking everyone in my life.

“You’re not a bitch though,” Emma says once we’ve all calmed down. “You’re very sweet. I like you. We should hang out more.” Her head is still in my lap and she reaches up, tapping me on the tip of my nose. “Want a bump?”

“Huh?” I’m confused.

“Em,” Emily hisses before she sends me an apologetic look. “Forgive her. She’s super drunk. And when she’s super drunk, she wants to do all the drugs she can find.”

“Like a mountain of cocaine sounds sooo good right about now,” Emma says, laughing as she taps my nose again. “You have a perfect nose, you know that? I’m jealous.” She taps her own nose. “I had to get a nose job to fix my honker.”

The word honker sends the three of us into another fit of giggles and I push Emma off my lap, clutching at my sides. “It hurts to laugh,” I protest.

“I know what’ll fix that right up.” Emma whips out a vile containing a small amount of white powder. “Want some? Stan hooked me up.”

“Wait a minute.” Emily shoves at Emma’s shoulder, earning a dirty look for her efforts. “You mean that asshole who won’t leave the table? That Stan gave you coke?”

Emma shrugs, a smile curling her lips. “I might’ve offered up my—cock sucking services for some. He readily agreed. I figured he’d be too wasted to remember and looks like I was right.”

I stare at the both of them like they’ve totally lost their minds. What in the world have I gotten myself into? These girls…are hardcore. Flasks and vodka and fucking and Redbull and bumps and vials of coke? Blow jobs for drugs? What in the hell?

“You gonna try some?” Emma waves the vial at me, a sweet smile on her face before she twists the lid off and dips her pinky finger inside. She holds it up to her nose and gives a delicate sniff, a shiver moving through her. “Stan always has the best shit,” she tells me with complete authority.

Without a word Emily hands me the flask and I gulp from it, not even tasting the Red Bull any longer. Not tasting anything. I’m not just buzzed I’m drunk. Stuck waiting for my so-called date to finish up his so-called task so he can take me back to my room and tuck me into bed and kiss me and touch me and…

No.
I shake my head. It’s the alcohol talking. I absolutely do not want Shep touching me and kissing me and stripping my clothes off, piece by piece…

“Pass it over bitch,” Emily says and Emma hands her the vial. I watch in fascination, feeling like I’m in a movie. A movie that’s about the perils of college, a glimpse into the seedy dark side where sweet college students have gone hopelessly wrong. Where underage freshmen girls drink from flasks and snort coke in public. “You want some, Jade or what? Because if you don’t, I’m going to snort the rest.”

“Don’t be so greedy Em!” Emma yells and they both laugh. Like they do this all the time.

“Um.” I hesitate, watching Emily dig into her purse and pull out a compact mirror and her student ID. She taps out a thin but sloppy line of white powder onto the mirror, then straightens it out with the edge of the ID card, the mirror resting haphazardly on her knees.

“I created this line just for you,” Emily sing songs as she thrusts the mirror in my face. “What do you say, new friend?”

I look from Emily to Emma, the both of them watching me, matching smiles on their faces. They look harmless. They look like they’re having fun. When was the last time I had fun? School has been driving me nuts. I’m sort of depressed over my breakup with Joel (lies). I’m confused by Shep and what he wants from me (absolute truth). I’m confused in general.

“Okay.” I smile brightly. So brightly, my cheeks hurt from the strain. “Let’s do this.”

“Yay!” they both yell, Emily almost dropping the mirror, making Emma yell at her not to waste a fucking drop—and I quote.

“Just press your finger here.” Emma demonstrates by touching the left side of her nose. “And inhale like so.” She gives a short sniff with her right nostril.

Taking a deep breath, I tell myself I’ll be okay. It’s just a little coke. Emily lifts the mirror higher, so it’s practically in my face, and I tuck my hair behind my ear, lean over the offered mirror with my finger pressed against my nose and…

Yeah. You know what happens next.

“C
ome on, dude.” I slap Stan’s massive back as I lead him out of the house. I’m irritable. Frustrated. But trying to put on a good game face—something I’m most excellent at doing. We went round and round, playing hand after hand, me trying to give away the game yet he still managed to somehow fuck it up. Over an hour later and he finally got his forty bucks back.

Gabe left when he realized I had everything under control, the asshole. I’ve ditched Jade all this time and I’m sure she hates me but what the hell could I do? I sent her a quick apologetic text but she never replied. I sent another text asking her to come inside but she didn’t reply to that one either. Didn’t make an appearance so I figure she’s long gone. I fucking blew it with Jade.

Business comes first though. It couldn’t be helped.

Imagine my surprise when Stan and I step out onto the porch and I see Jade sitting on the couch with two girls, Jade holding a mirror covered with a white line of power up to her face, the other two watching her raptly as she presses her finger to her nose, about ready to…what? Snort a line of fucking cocaine?

I don’t think so.

“What the hell are you doing?” I yell, causing all three of the girls to jump. The mirror goes flying, landing face down on the porch and one of the girls leaps to her feet, her ponytail swishing indignantly.

“Fuck! You made her drop it!”