2 7

blacklisted, pt. 1

   "Oh, shit!"

     A group of guys stand in front of me, cackling and hitting each other whilst stumbling around. The sound of the blaring bass and their obnoxious laughter fills my head in ways I can't focus, and it doesn't help that the stench of alcohol all over my freakin' shirt is literally taking my breath away. My nose scrunches, like I'm breathing in toxic, and I cough violently.

     Seriously, I just came in!

    "Hey!" Jude snaps at them, who all stop laughing but continue to smile lazily. I don't recognise them at all. "What the fuck, man?!"

     My God, my eyes are burning. The whole front of my crop top is soaked with the intoxicating liquid, and tears well under my eyes.

    "Sorry, bro," one guy slurs. "We were gonna go out and feed the grass outside. Saw the door... I guess I was too excited..."

     The two other next to him nod sluggishly.

    "Don't fucking apologise to me," Jude growls. "Apologise to her."

    "S-sorry," they all say to me, unbalanced, unsynchronised. They all reek of liquor, and my lungs just can't take it.

    "Let's just go," I rasp out.

     Jude looks down at me full of unguarded concern. "Wait." He clasps the shoulder of the broadest one in the group, and the guy visibly flinches. "Give me your T-shirt."

     The dude's eyes are glassy, caught off guard. "What?"

    "Your fucking T-shirt. Take it off."

    "No."

    "Now."

     He hastily takes off his T-shirt.

     His drunk friends stare at the whole ordeal with big, lazy eyes. Seconds later, the third guy is shirtless, and he shivers at the cold.

     Jude takes the T-shirt and grabs my hand. We leave the three boys, the shirtless one just standing there like a deer caught in headlights. ("You look great, bro," I hear one of them say.)

     I keep my hand locked onto Jude's as we explore the crowded mansion. If my hold is tight, I can't even imagine what to call Jude's. His hand around mine is rough and calloused but warm and protective. I have no clue where Trey and Justine are, and Liv and Vic didn't even qualify, so it's just us two.

     We dodge through people with move it and get out of the way, and I would've added an excuse me if the overwhelming smell of alcohol didn't make me flinch.

     Dear God, it burns.

     A bathroom finally appears in front of us. I don't even know how we got here — the journey was a never-ending, colourful blur. The door is adorned with golden patterns and a matching handle. Fancy.

     Jude hurriedly takes off his shirt and hands it to me. I just stare at him, mouth open, eyes a little squinted because of the smell. But I see him clearly — his exposed chest, rigged with muscles and hardness.

     I focus myself to eye the shirt in his hand. "What's that for?"

   "You," he replies harshly, honestly. "Unless you want to put on a shirt that smells like sweat and fucking liquor."

     I outwardly cringe. "I'll take yours."

     When I emerge from the bathroom, I'm feeling very comfortable with the outcome. Jude's T-shirt is obviously big on me, landing just on my shorts, so it looks like I'm just wearing a T-shirt dress. But the fabric is smooth on me, and the scent of peppermint and others I can't describe  — just that they're inexplicably Jude — is a far better alternative.

     More than I can admit.

     Jude's already wearing the drenched, alcohol-scented shirt, and the fact just registers to me: he was willing to wear that. For me.

     I look at him and he's looking at me, studying my figure, up and down. His eyes are a stormy green, filled with the intensity that, even though it's one I've grown accustomed to, still manages to take my breath away.

    "What?" I feel self-conscious all of a sudden. Jude's shirt is on me. My legs look bare.

    "You look good," he says lowly, in that rough tone of his.

    "Oh?" I feel bold, brave and scared all at once as I step closer. "I should have glasses of alcohol thrown at me more often then."

     He smacks my forehead playfully, and I throw my head back, laughing. His mouth instantly lifts up.

     Instead of our hands laced together like last time, Jude lets me lead in the front, keeping a warm hand on the small of my back that send chills in my bones. During a series of shouldering and nudging around, my eyes travel around me, and I manage to locate our two lost friends. 

     Trey and Justine are sitting on a set of lavish-looking couches perked around a black polished table. But they're not alone.

    "Liv!" I gasp, dashing into a run.

     My best friend stands from her seat, her face a thousand suns. "Hey, you dork!" She hugs me tight and I return the favour. From behind Liv, I see Jude and Vic share the classic man-hug — a routine of high-fives and clapping each other's back.

     I sit next to Trey with Jude following my side, while Liv returns to her seat next to Vic across from me. My smile can't shut up.

    "Why are you wearing Jude's shirt?" Justine frowns.

    "Long fucking story," Jude mutters.

    "I thought you guys weren't coming!" I say a little bit louder, still preoccupied by the sight of my best friend. I've been so worried of losing time with Liv again, but now that we're all together, I feel an immense happiness.

     Vic gives me a devilish grin that can only match to Trey's. "We snuck in."

     I raise my brows and look to Liv for confirmation. She smiles nervously. "Laney's going to kick your ass," I sigh. Her notorious reputation can speak for itself.

    "No problem." Vic takes a glass perched on the table, and before sipping it, winks. "I've had experience with her ass."

     All us girls go slack. Justine, who was taking a drink, spurts it out, coughing as Trey affectionately pats her back.

    "You did no such thing," Trey replies, smirking, obviously already aware of the fact.

    "Ignorance is bliss, brother."

    "You were with Laney?" Justine chokes out.

     Vic dismisses it with a hand. "It was a thing."

     My eyebrows pull together, and I peer at Jude beside me. He's got that same look on his face, a face that knows words beyond context — and there's a little smirk in there.

    "We all have our own little fun, don't we?" Jude remarks, raising one of the drinks.

     Vic grins and clanks the drink with him, an act of cheers.

     We're all laughing, but I'll be honest. My laughter is a bit forced. Jude's comment shouldn't disturb me — I know he's done things with girls. A lot of them. But now, thinking of him that way makes me nauseous, like these knots unfurling in my stomach. I have the sudden urge to throw something. Or down a shot.

     I can feel Jude's hot gaze on me. But I don't want to give him the satisfaction of looking at him. As I'm trying to concentrate on something else, I notice the silence isn't just from me.

     Liv is examining her nails like it's the most important thing in the world. She hasn't said anything since the whole Vic-Laney revelation. I try to send him a withering glare, because if Liv is in any way disturbed about it, something must've happened between them. But Vic doesn't even look at my direction — or Liv's. He just continues to joke around, like he isn't even aware of Liv sitting right there and brooding.

    "Damn, you guys all made it!" TJ appears, pushing against the crowd of people dancing. He has a big smirk on his face that none of us are returning.

    "Uh..." What's happening?

     TJ takes a seat next to Liv, giving her a crude once-over. "You clean up well, Olivia. As always."

     Liv, as always, turns into a shade of pink. Vic glares at TJ behind her back, eyes zoomed in on his sudden proximity to Liv. Finally. He shows a reaction.

     Trey leans forward. "And what makes you think you're welcome here, TJ?"

     We're all staring at the intruder, but he just gives us a cocky grin. "Everyone's welcome in everything. It's the blacklist party, there are no rules."

    "You're right," Jude starts, shooting daggers at him. "There are no fucking rules. Doesn't mean we want you here."

    "Too bad. I'm staying."

     The whole atmosphere changes. Liv's nervous and Justine doesn't really know TJ, but Jude tenses beside me, Vic is still glaring at him, and Trey looks at TJ like he's an inconvenient speck of dust that has no significance in this world.

     Jude clicks his tongue. "How about you fucking — "

    "Let's play a game." Before any of us can object, TJ says, "Never Have I Ever."

     Multiple answers fling across the room.

     "With you? No fucking thanks."

    "Please elaborate why you think we'd agree to this."

    "Wait, what?"

     They're all arguing and talking over each other, but I ponder my words. It's weird TJ approached us as a group, and alone without his posse. Which means there's something he wants. So it's out of my curiosity, or competitive consciousness, that compels me to say:

    "Okay."

     Everyone turns to me. Shoot.

     TJ flashes a bright grin. "Excellent."

     To my surprise, my friends don't argue as TJ leaves temporarily. I wait for someone, anyone, to comment, but they're all giving me furtive looks and eyebrow-raised expressions. I suddenly remember that, out of the six of us, I know TJ the best. So maybe they trust my instincts? 

     It's flattering. But the question is, do I?

     TJ comes back with seven shot glasses and a bottle of vodka, and facts shoot up in my head. He had all that prepared, unless he suddenly turned into the Flash. What is he planning?

    "I hope you know what you're doing," Jude whispers low in my ear.

     TJ places each glass in front of us and fills in the alcohol, the liquid spilling as he goes around the table. Once everyone has their vodka shots, he smirks.

    "Who goes first?"

     A normal game of Never Have I Ever would be as daring and fun as ever. But with an outsider in the circle — especially a mischievous guy like him — I don't know what to expect. But that's what Addie Hale is all about. To expect the unexpected.

     Let's get this over with, shall we?

    "Never have I ever," I begin, "been arrested."

     The game is easily set to motion. Vic and Jude grin and lift their glasses. There's not an ounce of distaste or disgust as the alcohol burns down their throats. It's like they're gulping energy drinks or something.

     We all give them judgy faces.

    "I thought vandalism was art," Vic defends.

     Jude nods. "And I thought speeding was fucking slow." They share a high-five, and I roll my eyes. Their friendship are solely based on high-fives these days.

    "I have one." Justine raises her hand. I swear TJ's smile grows wider. Not good. "Never have I ever streaked in public."

     All the guys immediately take their shots, with Vic and Jude re-filling their glasses. Even Trey, however classy he is, is still a seventeen-year-old boy. But that's not the surprising bit. Sure, TJ takes his own shot, but no one's interested in his story — not as they are interested in mine, as I lift my own glass.

     Everyone gawks at me.

   "Hale?" Jude lets out, staring at me, a playful glint in his eyes. "No fucking way."

    "Yes fucking way," I quip.

     Trey slowly grins. "You're lying."

    "It's true," Liv laughs. "Sophomore year, Girls Scouts camp. When everyone was asleep, Addie woke me up and tried to convince me to streak. I said no and she went off, not knowing there was a small campfire of hikers nearby."

     Justine howls in laughter and smacks me in the shoulder. "You animal!"

     I grin. "Livin' my best life!"

     Shot after shot, the game goes on, with more of us getting wasted and wasted-er. Liv raised her cup for "Never have I ever slept naked" (TJ was all smirks — I want to vomit thinking of what he's thinking), Justine admitted to giving someone a hickey (I still don't know how Trey manages to keep his cool act), and Trey and Jude drank for stealing a condom (it wasn't as funny as Vic, Liv and TJ made it out to be.)

     The night was fading away, and the downside of being such a daredevil is that makes me vulnerable in these kind of games. I've almost drank the same rate as the boys.

     My head is starting to sway.

    "Okay, okay," TJ says, surprisingly not as drunk as the rest of us. The boys are slightly tipsy, but they have a higher alcohol tolerance than me, so they're handling it far better than I am. Liv and Justine are just a little from sober. "Last round."

     My eyes glaze over to him.

   "Never have I ever," he says, slowly and suspiciously, "kissed a person in this group that I'm not in a relationship with."

     I blink.

     I know my head is screaming no, don't do it, Addie! But my hand unconsciously wavers towards the full shot, the contents spilling over as my grip turns wobbly.

     Vic reaches towards his cup at the same time.

    "Whoa!" TJ bursts out. "Addie and Vic? Holy shit, I would've never thought."

     I turn to him, or at least I try to, not without the sheer effort of my body. TJ knows I kissed Trey during X2. Why would he pretend to not know? Did he meant —

     Wait. Did Vic just —

     Everyone is deadly silent and just watches as Vic gulps his in one single scoop.

     I'm frozen. The hand gripping the vodka shot is frozen.

     Jude takes the cup away from my hand, looking at me in the eye with an anguished expression that knots my stomach.

    "Addie and Vic? No way!" Justine giggles. "You guys didn't tell me anything!"

    "It was a long time ago," Vic mutters.

     I stare at him.

     Liv stares at her lap.

     Trey stares at his empty cup.

     Jude stares at me.

    "Well," TJ starts, grinning like a mad man. "That was fun."

A/N: The plot thickens. Friendships crumble. Revenge strikes. Lovers betray.

I'm so dramatic sometimes, I'm sorry.