VEX VANDERVEER PULLED UP OUT FRONT the house, a two-story sage Bungalow with stone columns. Music pulsed within, pounding like a dead thing against the lid of its coffin, trying to escape. A couple girls were sitting on the porch banister, miniskirts flapping in the evening breeze while they flirted with a group of guys. One dickhead was doing chin ups from the roofs drain water pipe. Others milled on the porch smoking, inanimate and dead-eyed.

Vex gunned his motorcycle once for the girls before killing the engine. Sure enough, they both shifted on the railing to look back at him, eyes lighting with intrigue, and then, once he'd removed his helmet, desire. He knew what they saw: silky russet brown hair; brilliant green eyes; a jawline sharp enough to cut diamond. He was tall, toned, tan, and broad-shouldered, and he was impeccably dressed in a leather jacket and dark jeans. The girls were pretty, too, but he wasn't here for them.

He strapped his helmet to the bike and hopped onto the lawn, swinging his keys around one finger as he crossed to the house.

"Hi Vex," one of the girls said, smiling.

He winked at her, then bounded up the steps and inside.

The living room was crowded, the air murky with smoke. Teenagers were everywhere, draped over furniture and against walls like discarded articles of clothing. In the corner, a particularly rowdy game of beer pong was in session, alcohol splashing across the table and floor every time someone scored, and sometimes even when they didn't.

"Hey Vex," another girl said silkily, sliding past. What could he say? He was irresistible.

He moved through the rooms, eventually finding his way to the kitchen. A beer keg had been set up by the marble island bench, and some idiot was gearing up to do a keg stand. Vex opened the fridge and scanned it for items of interest. There were two racks of wines and spirits, another of soda, and a shelf packed with assorted bottles of beer and cider. A label at the back caught his eye, and he dug through the alcohol until finally retrieving a bottle of his favourite beer.

"My god," someone said over his shoulder, "look who finally fucking showed."

Vex turned and lifted his head, the fridge door swinging shut behind him. "Matson Hirose," he said, an easy-going smile overtaking his face. "Back from the dead, I see?"

Matson, a lithe black-haired boy almost as tall as Vex, reached over for a hug, slapping his friend on the back. "You're a shit, you know that," he slurred into Vex's ear.

Vex laughed and stepped back, twisting the cap off his beer even though it technically wasn't a twist-top. "It wasn't that bad."

"It was bad."

"Well I did warn you."

Matson leaned back against the kitchen island and emptied the last of his cup into his mouth. "I'm never doing that again."

Vex rolled his eyes. "Relax, you won't have to." He took a sip of his beer. "Is Ally here?"

A grin tugged at the corners of Matson's mouth. "Yeah, she's here. Arrived an hour ago. She misses you terribly."

"I'm sure she does."

"She's out back if you want to go say hello."

Vex shook his head. "No, I've got something I need to do."

Matson raised an eyebrow. "Should I be worried?"

"Not in the slightest." He took a swig of beer and patted his friend on the shoulder. "I'll catch up with you later."

Vex stepped out of the kitchen and back into the throng of bodies, wading through them to the stairs. If anything the music had gotten louder, and it boomed in his ears like a series of nuclear detonations. One of the jackasses from class was hanging by the stairs. "Corey up here?" he asked.

"Huh?" the boy shouted back. He had long blond curls and a jaw covered in pimples.

"Corey!" Vex yelled. He pointed up the stairs.

The boys eyes widened. "Oh yeah! He's up there." Then he smirked.

Wonderful.

Vex took the stairs three at a time, dodging the couple who thought the stairwell was their own private suite. The hall beyond it was a series of closed doors, boys and girls waiting around outside them like they were lining up for a ride at an amusement park. Corey wasn't in the hall, so Vex went to the first door and banged hard. "Corey?"

"Piss off!" some girl yelled.

He went to the next. Banged three times. Boom, boom, boom. "Corey?"

At the fourth door, someone shouted back, "Fuck, Vex, not now, I'm busy!"

Bingo.

"How busy?" he replied.

A pause. He faintly heard Corey saying, "Shit, he's going to come in anyway."

There was a scuffle inside, feet stomping with all the grace of a parade of elephants. A minute later, the door swung open to reveal a boy in a button down and chinos, buckling a belt at his hips. His blond hair was brushed back neatly, his skin luminous in the light. His feet sported only a pair of socks, but still, he was one suave looking fuck.

"Corey," Vex said, smiling. He pushed inside. The room was dark, all the lights off save for one desk lamp. The bed was a crumpled mess in the corner. Corey shut the door behind them.

"Where'd your friend go?" Vex asked, eyes revolving around the room.

"Don't worry about it. She's gone."

Vex eyed the open window and gave him a look that said Seriously?

Corey shrugged. "Your timing is terrible, like usual."

"I disagree. It always seems to work for me."

"My point exactly."

Vex was moving slowly around the perimeter of the room, scanning every piece of furniture, every decoration, every utility, as if he were in a museum. Corey shifted, running a hand along one arm. "So, about today–"

"I'm really not interested in hearing excuses, Corey." Vex reached the desk, an archaic wooden thing covered in computers and cords, pens and paper and packs of gum. He put down his beer and slid open the drawer. Inside was a chaotic assortment of stationery and candy. The draw below it was locked.

"Don't touch the–" Vex gave it a shake and jerked it open, breaking the lock in the process. Behind him, Corey swore. The drawer contained a pile of files, weighed down by a gun and a bag of pills. Interesting.

"What are you doing here then?"

He finally turned to the boy. "I wanted to see you. Make sure we were on the same page."

"And which page is that?"

Vex's eyes traced the ceiling, examined the floor. "Who's room is this?"

"It's a spare," Corey replied, a frown knitting his dark blond brows together. "Why?"

"Do you know what's in this drawer?"

"No, it's my father's desk. I'm not supposed to go near it, let alone break it."

Vex lifted the gun.

Across the room, Corey jerked backwards, slamming into the wall. "Jesus, Vex! What are you doing? Put it back!"

"Relax, Corey. I was only looking." He dropped the gun back into the drawer and kicked it shut. "But maybe you should have a word with your father, yeah? There's a bag of pills in there as well."

Corey swallowed and nodded. When Vex turned to look out the window, the blond boy said, "I really am sorry about today. I was an idiot."

"Don't worry, most people are idiots. You'll fit right in."

"This isn't a joke, Vex."

Vex moved away from the window. "Nor is badmouthing me at school."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry's not going to cut it," he replied, crossing the room.

"I don't know what else you want from me. I can't take back what I said."

"No," Vex said. He was very close to Corey now, barely two feet away. "But I have an idea of what you can do to make up for it."

The boy shrunk back, terrified without quite knowing why. "What's that?"

Vex smiled. Oh. He was going to enjoy this.