Ian Cros

My mother's white dress was slim against her bony body. The red overcoat hung on her arm as she set it on the counter, tapping her long nails on the coffee box. The wrinkles around her mouth twitched before she fake smiled at me.

I rolled my eyes, irritated. "Why are you here?"

Her laugh screeched in my ears before she dug into her oversized purse. "You left your gift, so I thought I would bring it."

"Cut the shit, Mom," I replied, crossing my arms.

Her intense eyes glanced at me for a moment of silence while she thought. Her thin fingers pulled out a pocket mirror, flipping it open to fix her pink lipstick. She bobbed her eyes between me and herself.

"Your father is upset with you." She clicked the mirror closed and tossed it in her purse.

I scuffed, shaking my head, and opened my door. "I think you should go."

She placed her hand over her heart. "Ian, you can't kick your poor mother out on the streets."

"I'm not kicking you out on the streets!" I turned toward her, leaving the door swinging and letting the cold air in. "You know very well why I left you and that man in New York and why I never want to see his face again!"

She put her hands up like playing innocent would help her. "Ian, I don't understand why you—"

"You two killed her!" I yelled, pulling at my hair. "You may not have put your hands on her, but you killed her for no reason!"

"Keep your voice down."

"No! Fuck no!" I screamed, laughing in disbelief. "How could you let that monster end a beautiful young life?" A tear slipped from my eye, and I wiped it away quickly. "She had so much more life left. So much more to teach to the rest of us evil souls."

"Isabella was not our—"

I pointed at her. "Don't you dare repeat her name, you heartless bitch!"

My mother's eyes widened with hurt, but her expression faded to anger. "You ungrateful little bastard," she said through her teeth. "We, your father and me, did everything for you. I had raised you to be a gentleman. To take over what your father built."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You are so far from reality. I will never take over that heartless job."

"Ian—"

"Just shut up and leave," I said, pointing at the open door.

"Ian—"

"No! I will never forget you two killed her!" I yelled until my voice cut from hurting.

The creaking of the floorboards had her glancing over at the door. Emily stood there with a shocked expression before smiling at my mother. Her hand reached toward her, not reading the situation.

"Hello, I am Emily," she said in a high-pitched, animal-like way.

I grabbed Emily's wrist, pulling away their contact, knowing my mother would kill Emily for being my friend, too. Her enormous eyes looked at me with confusion as I brought her closer and behind me.

"Let's take this to the hallway," I said to my mother, waving for her to move.

My mom's thin lips smiled at Emily before glaring. "Good idea. We don't want unwanted ears listening. Girls who mess around in other's family life get hurt, right, blondie?" She watched Emily with a piercing expression, pronouncing the parts that Botox couldn't fix.

Emily crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her head while scanning my mom from head to toe. Her glare slowly formed into a smirk before she beamed at her with a toothy look.

"It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Cros." Her grin didn't move while she watched my mother walk over to her purse and grab it before leaving out the open door with every click of her heels.

I followed my mom without saying a word to Emily. When I shut the door, she turned on her expensive high heels, pointing at the ground.

"You will not be friends with that girl."

I stepped back, leaning against my door. "Fine, done." I knew Emily wouldn't be a long-term friend, and I needed to separate myself from my parents before they tried to kill someone again. "She is a nobody."

My mom shrugged on her coat, smiling at me like nothing was wrong. She snapped her fingers, reaching for a hug. "Good boy." Her cell phone vibrated her purse while she checked it. "Your father expects—"

"Please stop," I whispered through my teeth. "Forget you ever had a son and leave me the fuck alone," I said with anger, and left her in the stairwell.

I shut the door, exhaling before relaxing my forehead on the door. Bumping my head on the wood panel, I wished to disappear.

"Your mom seems nice," Emily's voice killed the silence.

I spun to glance at her. She had her hands on the coffee machine, tapping the glass to the pot.

"I put it together," she said, plugging in the cord. "I've heard these make amazing cups."

"Let's go," I replied, opening the door.

"What?" Emily froze, glancing at my room. "But the band doesn't start until way later."

"We aren't going to the concert anymore," I said, waving for her to follow me.

Emily shook her head. "But I've been wanting to see—" She paused, looking at the machine. "Maybe we can try the new coffee maker and head to the concert."

I shook my head with a smirk. "No, I have a better plan for tonight. Forget the coffee. Forget the band."

"Ian," Emily protested to me, stomping her tan Ugg boots.

My jaw dropped open. "Okay, go, but I am going to the frat party."

Emily huffed, but pulled her phone from her pocket, typing in it. She followed me out the door with her head down, popping the gum in her mouth. While we worked our way down the stairs, she smiled at me.

"Okay, I will join you," she said, switching to a happy, preppy personality.

"Whatever," I replied, walking into the frosty night back to the frat house, ready to ditch the blonde girl as soon as possible.

Emily hooked her arm with mine, leaning her head into my torso as we strolled. Snow floated around us when cars drifted by, sending the bright flakes in the air. The house's music blared from the distance while an 80's rock song vibrated the windows.

"Ugh, I can't stand Darin," Emily said when he opened the front door, jumping the steps toward the sidewalk. "We should seriously go to The Bland Pussy instead of this lame party." Her attitude fell from her tongue when Darin noticed us.

His eyes lit up with excitement. "Ian!" he yelled, laughing at me wearing the horrible outfit he gave me. "Hey, Emily." Darin nodded to her.

I shrugged off the Barbie doll and followed Darin into the noisy house. "I'm gonna need help with ditching this one," I whispered, glancing at Emily, visibly upset behind us, focused on her phone.

"I got you," Darin replied, opening the front door to a house full of loud college students.

A football guy lifted a girl, yelling nonsense while she slapped him, trying to free herself. She smiled and glanced at me while I smirked. She tucked her hair behind her ears, angry with the guy. The crowd paused with all eyes on me.

"Ian, my man!" Mark yelled, causing everyone to continue their hooligans. "I have a gift for you." He pushed past a big guy, grabbing my shoulder and squeezing it.

A tiny pull had me looking at Emily while she hung on my arm. "You sure you want to be here?" Her eyes looked at Darin before Mark. "Go get me something to drink," she ordered.

I placed my hand on top of her, removing her body from mine. "The kitchen and drinks are that way," I said, pointing to the side. "Go get something, and we will meet up later." I lied.

My eyes met Darin, and he smiled, patting Emily on the back. He leaned close to her, guiding her through the crowd of drunk students. Emily's lost eyes bounced to me over her shoulder while Mark laughed in my ear.

"Have fun ditching the stalker," he said, waving for me to follow.

He tiptoed slightly through the crowd to the stairs with me behind him. With every girl I passed, they stopped with wide eyes and smiled innocently. Some shyly waved if they built up enough confidence.

The music drifted in the distance as Mark led me to a room upstairs. An American flag hung above the bed as he lifted it and pulled a baggie from a hole in the drywall.

"You hadn't forgotten our bet, right?" he asked with his head almost in the hole.

"You better have the money," I replied with confidence.

He laughed at my response. Mark flopped onto his ass, digging into the bag. His low chuckle caused me to laugh before he looked up from the bed at me.

"Here," he said, holding out a brownie with a brow raised.

I waved him off. "I already told you, no drugs."

He pointed at me with a grin, laughing at being cross-faded already. "Nah, man, you told me you don't smoke." He stood from the bed, placing a tiny piece of the weed brownie in my hand. "This not smoke."

I glared at him before glancing at the edible in my hand. "I know it's not smoke."

Mark wrapped his arm around me, lifting my hand so the treat was close to my mouth. "This will help you ditch that blonde Ava chick, too."

I rolled my eyes at him, not getting her name right. "Okay," I replied, hoping it would help me not think about Isabella for now.

With approval, Mark nodded, watching me pop the small brownie piece between my lips. He shoved a huge bite into his mouth, chewing with his cheeks full.

"Let's get you a drink," he said, muffled from a mouth full.

Mark's door slammed open, hitting the wall as a guy fell into the room. "Mark!" he yelled while two girls giggled behind him. "Peter is about to down your good bottle."

"Fuck no!" Mark yelled, racing out of the room with his friends behind him.

I drifted down the hallway toward the stairs, watching the students of EWU drink their kidneys to hell. Leaning against the railing, I stayed up high while I watched Mark rip a glass bottle from a massive guy. Emmie, or Ellie, wait. The girl I arrived at the party with sipped on a red solo cup, eyeing everyone with disgust. My eyes blurred, and my brain couldn't remember her name as the brownie kicked in.

"Emily," I whispered, already forgetting what I told myself. "Her name," I said, talking to myself, gripping the stair railing tighter. "She is Ava," I slurred with a smile.

I watched Ava cross the room and sit with a group of girls eyeing me. They noticed me watching and waved with a giggle. One girl stood from the couch, raising her shirt to flash me with her boobs. Screams echoed over the music while the girls shrieked with laughter. With a cocky smile, I laughed, shaking my head.

A redhead stumbled from the front door with a dark-haired beauty behind her. The band girl giggled at her friend before looking up the stairs at me. She smirked, helping her friend off the ground.

My target had entered the house. Mark might as well owe me now. I drifted down the stairs, stumbling before the gothic girl. She met my eyes, putting a cigarette to her lips.

"I thought you had your band thing tonight?" I asked her while she flipped her hair back.

"I thought you were gonna meet me there?" She responded with the cigarette still in her mouth.

I shrugged with a smirk. "Change of plans," I said, leaning closer. "So, when are you going to tell me your name?"

She shook her head, stepping away from me. "When are you going to tell me yours?" she replied with a banter joke. "You seem to be a nobody to me." Her eyes scanned, seeing all the girls watching me.

I laughed, watching her turn away. She strolled through the crowd, settling in the corner as she lit her smoke. A hand tapped my shoulder as Mark held a drink for me. A blonde girl attached herself to his back, kissing his neck. I took it, downing it in one gulp, ready to bring the quiet girl with the emo clothes home.

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