Becoming Alpha (7 page)

A group of guys I definitely knew from school came out of the mall entrance. Four of them. Including Carlos.

Shit. I pulled my hair out of the bun and let it block my face. I didn’t have it in me to play off any visions, especially the kind that came from Carlos. Just dealing with the party was going to be enough for one day.

I shouldn’t have worried. They went straight for the girl.

“Stay away from Jess!” Carlos said. His hands were balled at his sides.

Holy crapola. Where was Axel? He was going to die when he found out he missed a fight. I quickly texted him.

“Carlos. I was just—” She stepped away from the golden boy.

Carlos shoved the guy with blond hair. “What do you think you’re doing talking to our kind?”

Blondie budged only enough to move off the planter, rising slowly.

I took another bite of my ice cream as the girl tried to stop the fight. Ice cream and a fight? Best mall trip ever.

Carlos’ face reddened, and then he looked at the ground, backing down.

Lame. After all the visions he’d given me, seeing his ass get handed to him would’ve been nice.

One of the boys glanced toward the entrance. “We’re busted,” he said.

Dastien strode from the mall with two other guys dressed just like him—black T-shirt and black jeans.

“
Retour sur le collége. Maintenant
,” Dastien said.

I wondered what that meant. It sounded sexy.

Blondie’s fists clenched at his sides, but instead of saying anything, he started walking toward the parking lot.

Axel ran out the mall exit. “Did I miss it?”

My face heated as everyone turned to me. “Shut up.” I tried my best to ignore them, instead focusing on my brother. “No fight.”

Axel looked around at the crowd now dispersing into the parking lot. “Bummer.” He took my ice cream cone before I could stop him and took a big bite.

“What the hell? That was my breakfast.”

Axel snorted. “No. This was dessert.” He ripped off the paper covering the cone, and licked the length of it. “And now it’s mine.”

Licking a food item was the ultimate in claiming. “You’re a dick.”

He took another big bite. “Mom and Dad are waiting to have lunch with us.” He threw his arm over my shoulder. “We’ve got to do something about your eating habits before I go.”

I rolled my eyes. I ate plenty. Sometimes got distracted and forgot about it, but I wasn’t anorexic or anything. My curves were still visible as ever.

“Where’s your book?” He asked as we started toward the parking lot.

My face burned once again. Dastien was a few feet away by the mall entrance. I snuck a peek at him. Yup. He was waiting for me to answer, arms crossed and a slanted grin on his face.

He totally knew what he was doing to me. What a jerk.

The easiest thing to do would be to lie, but Axel knew the face I made when I lied. It wouldn’t work. I took a deep breath. “I got distracted.”

He looked back at Dastien and took a big bite of my cone. He chomped for a second, and I thought he’d dropped the subject.

“By what?” He asked as he turned to look at Dastien again in a totally obvious way. He took another bite, and I wanted to hit him.

I pulled my keys out of my purse. “None of your business.” I heard a chuckle and looked back again.

God. This was so embarrassing.

Axel snatched my keys out of my hand while I wasn’t looking. “That’s what you get when you hold the good stuff back.”

“Who said I was holding anything back?”

He made a show of shoving the last of my cone in his mouth.

“Gross.”

He put his arm around me again and started half-dragging me towards the car. “Little sis, let’s talk about crushes,” he said way too loudly.

I shoved him away. Dastien’s laughter echoed through the parking lot.

Why, God? Why me! Why did you have to give me this jerk of a brother who was hell bent on humiliating me any chance he got?

I ignored Axel’s ramblings and looked one last time at Dastien. He was still standing by the entrance. One of his friends was saying something to him, but Dastien was watching me. I faced forward and waved as I stepped into the rows of parked cars.

Axel was right. Maybe I had a crush on this guy. But he had been watching me, so he had to feel something for me, too.

As I got ready for the party, I wondered if I’d made a good decision. It was too late to second-guess myself, but I already knew that Rosalyn and her friends didn’t have that much in common with me. I didn’t like to shop or gossip. I liked to read and loved to listen to a good DJ set.

Every once in a while, I’d convince Axel to take me to a club and we’d dance all night. I wore something to cover most of my skin, and Axel kept people away from me. It was one of my favorite things. Not like they had much of that around here and Axel would be leaving next week, but still, Rosalyn and I just didn’t see eye to eye on music. Which might not seem like a big thing, but it was most likely the beginning of a fatal flaw in our relationship.

I’d bitten my nails down to the quick. When Axel saw me gnawing on my fingers, he offered to tag along with me, but I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let him do that. He was leaving soon. I had to do this on my own. But I was keeping my cell in my pocket just in case I needed backup.

By eight, Rosalyn was waiting for me outside. Her crooked smile spelled mischief as I closed the door to her little silver Honda. Her red hair hung halfway down her back in perfect curls. “You ready?” she asked.

Nope. Not at all. “Totally.”

Rosalyn’s country music filled the silence as she drove through the winding streets. I tried to tune it out, but the singer whining about losing some lame boyfriend was like needles digging in my eardrums.

“This song is great,” I said, my lame attempt at trying to start a conversation.

“I know, right? It’s one of my faves.” She turned it up.

Thankfully, only a few minutes passed before she pulled into a packed driveway and parked. “Nervous?” she said.

I wondered if the gleam in her eye meant that she was hoping I was nervous. “I’m more curious than anything.”

“It’ll be fun. Plus, it’s Texas. We’re all nice,” she lifted one shoulder, “for the most part.”

Yeah, I wasn’t buying that one. I had a feeling that if I got on Rosalyn’s bad side, she would become a huge pain in my ass.

She grabbed her purse and pulled out a glittery tube of lip-gloss. “Here. Try this one.”

Oh God. That was a terrible idea, but one I couldn’t refuse without being rude.

“Thanks.” I took the tube from her, and with a shaking hand, started to apply the gloss in the vanity mirror.

Short, staggering visions popped through my mind of the different places she used the gloss.

In a bathroom. In her car. In English class. In Carlos’ car.

And then she was at a pharmacy. She looked around as her pulse pounded. The coast was clear. She put the gloss in her pocket as she walked down the aisle, toward the exit. Her fear and excitement filled me.

And then I was back in her car. I pulled the tube from my lips. Rosalyn was texting and hadn’t noticed a thing.

I exhaled slowly and focused on my reflection. The gloss was slimy and sticky, but it made my lips look Angelina-plump. My eyes were lined in my favorite midnight shadow, making their brown look richer.

“Ready?” she said.

“Sure.” I flipped the vanity mirror shut and hopped out of the car.

We walked across the lawn to the large brick house. A lilting beat floated across the yard. I took a look down at my outfit—black skater dress, thin silver belt, flip-flops, thin silver scarf, and black over-the-elbow gloves—as my nerves started to reach an all-time high. I smoothed my skirt down and centered the knot on my scarf as my nerves rose.

If I could make it through the night without freaking out from some vision, then I had a chance at finding a place where I belonged—even if it wasn’t with Rosalyn’s crowd.

Rosalyn went straight for the door, and opened it without pausing to knock. I might have been a little bit naïve—it was my first party after all—but I wasn’t expecting everyone to be drinking. Thirty kids or so were scattered around the entryway screaming at each other over the music. They all had red plastic cups in their hands.

How in the hell did a bunch of sixteen and seventeen year olds score enough booze for everyone?

I shook my head. Some of those cups had to be filled with soda.

One girl gestured while talking, unaware that the contents of her cup were spilling all over the floor. A guy was falling all against a girl, who pushed him away.

Nope. They were drunk. Unreal.

Guess there were no parents here.

“Good. We’re perfectly late.” Rosalyn grabbed my gloved hand. “Let’s get a drink.” She led me through the crowd to the kitchen. I spotted Jess as she rushed past me, knocking me into the wall. She ran to a powder room and slammed the door.

“Gross. She’s always sick before the party even gets started,” Rosalyn rolled her eyes. “She seriously needs to learn to control her alcohol.”

No kidding. And from the looks of things, there were a few people who wouldn’t be far behind Jess’ state. I knew right then that I was in over my head. I thought about calling Axel, but was too stubborn to admit that I’d been wrong about telling him not to come.

Rosalyn towed me along with her to the kitchen. It was big with an island in the center. The counters were light speckled granite, but I couldn’t really see them under all the booze. Liquor bottles and red cups, along with an assortment of sodas and juices were spread all over the place. In front of the sink was an extra-large plastic trashcan filled with ice water and a keg floating in the center. Three boys stood around it as they filled red cups and handed them down a line of kids.

I checked my watch. It wasn’t even 8:30 yet. How were there so many people already drunk?

Carlos was filling shot glasses on the counter with some amber colored liquor.

Right. That was how.

He looked up at me. “Hey, Tessa. Glad you could make it,” he said with a grin. His dimples made him look more charming than he actually was.

He hadn’t said anything to Rosalyn, and by the look she gave him, she was pissed. I so didn’t want to get in the middle of that.

“How about a proper welcome to Texas? Take a shot of tequila.”

Rosalyn dropped my arm and stepped back. I glanced at her, and she shrugged. “Go ahead.”

At that the other three boys who were lined up for a shot looked at me. My palms started sweating. I’d never taken one. I’d never even had a drop of alcohol before. Would it make me act stupid? Or worse—would my visions go crazy?

That was
not
appealing at all.

Finding a way to be normal was my goal here. I snatched the glass that Carlos held out for me with my gloved hand.

“We take ‘em Texas style here,” he said.

I gave my best fake-confident smile. “Okay. What exactly does that mean?”

“Here, let me show you. Take off your glove.”

There was no way I wanted to do that, but I’d already committed.

As soon as the glove was off, he grabbed my hand and, looking me straight in the eye, licked it.

I was instantly drowning in his hormones.

Glimpses of half-dressed girls. Moans echoed in the backseat of his car. Flashes of wet skin.

As soon as he dropped my hand, I was back in my own body. I grabbed onto the counter as the dizziness faded. That was the fifth time I’d been in the backseat of Carlos’ car this week, thankfully never in my own body. I made a promise to myself to keep it that way.

The wet streak glistened on my hand. Was that supposed to be sexy?

He grabbed a saltshaker and put some onto the wet spot.

Oh no. Please don’t mean what I think that means.

He reached down to a bowl of sliced limes, and handed me one. I took it with my gloved hand.

“All right. So, we motion up and say, ‘
Por arriba
.’ That means for above. Then we motion down and say, ‘
Por abajo
.’ For below. Then we motion out and say, ‘
Por alcentro
.’ For the center. Then we say, ‘
Por aldentro
.’ For inside. And then lick the salt, take the shot, and suck on the lime. In that order. Got it?”

I nearly rolled my eyes. Most people heard my last name and just assumed I was white, but my mother was Mexican. Thanks to her I could speak Spanish.

“
Lo entiendo, chavo.”

Carlos’ face went blank for a second. “You Latin?”

I nodded. “My mother is. So, yes.”

“Cool.” He paused. “What’s
chavo
mean?”

Christ. With a name like Carlos Rodriguez and his explaining of how to take the shot, I totally thought he spoke Spanish. “It means dude. I said I understand it, dude.”

“Sweet.”

“Yup.” But still I wished I didn’t have to eat spit-salt.

“You know you don’t have to do this. They’re just stupid boys,” Rosalyn said. She crossed her arms.

Fantastic. She had to say that
after
I said I’d do it. There was no backing down now, not without looking like an idiot.

Damn it. I was already an idiot. Her boy had been a little flirty with me and now she wanted me to make a fool of myself. I should’ve noticed before I agreed to the shot. “No, I’ve got it.” I tried to keep my hand steady as I held the tiny glass.

“Whatever,” she said as she started to inspect her manicure.

“All right, everyone. Shots at the ready,” Carlos lifted up his shot glass in salute.

“Ready!” the boys yelled.

“
Por arriba. Por abajo. Por alcentro. Por aldentro
.” I said with the boys, then quickly licked the salt, forcing myself not to grimace as a new flash of visions burned my brain courtesy of Carlos. I drank the shot in one swallow, and tried to ignore the burning in my throat as I shoved the sour lime in my mouth with my gloved hand.

That wasn’t so bad.

The boys laughed, and one gave me a high five as I put my discarded lime on the counter.

“Good work,” Carlos said.

“Thanks.” Smiling back at him, I finally felt the confidence I’d been faking. I could do this. I could be one of them. I could control my visions and come off as cool. As normal. I was totally rocking it.