Hour by Hour (Games & Diversions #2) Read Free Page A

them before you can blink. Kat told me that the entire school might just show up. I think I may have even heard a radio announcement go out about the party…”
    He shakes his head, tilting his own drink to his mouth before freezing the cup mid-air. He sits it down instead of drinking it.
    His smile drops.
    “So,” he says, swirling the liquor. “Chris told me what happened…”
    I squint at him. “What happened?”
    “At the bar the last time you guys hung out.”
    Shit. Here we go.
    I feign indifference. “ Yeah?”
    Foxx stares harder at me, leaning in.
    “You want to tell me what that’s all about?”
    His glare probes my face, searching for answers. But I won’t meet his eye. I stare straight ahead, determined to ignore his question.
    “Nothing. It was a one time thing.”
    “Just one time?”
    Lie .
    “Yeah. One time.”
    I wait… and wait… but the barrage doesn’t come.
    Instead, Foxx nods at me.
    “Alright, if you say so… but I want you to know that I’m here, man. Always … and if you ever…”
    A crash rings out from the front patio, shifting our attention towards the door.
    The party has barely started and, already, it seems that things are starting to take a turn.
    “ Shit ,” Foxx gripes. “Let me go check on that real quick.”
    I grunt in reply.
    It won’t be quick.
    Just like our usual get-togethers that have been pushed back or like when “I’ll hit you up tomorrow” turns into “I’ll let you know what’s up next week,” this conversation too will likely never be brought up again.
    What was once an unbreakable bond between us three friends lately feels like Elmer’s glue, and I start to wonder if things will stay that way from now on.
    While I ponder this, Foxx turns his back to me, walking back to the foyer with his cup in hand.
    “My place is gonna be fucked ,” he mutters under his breath.
     
    ***
     
    An hour later, the sound of breaking glass barely earns a glance from me, and the frequency of scattered booms and splashes has increased ten-fold, but doesn’t faze me anymore.
    Foxx was right.
    His place is going to be fucked.
    More guests started to trickle in as soon as I finished my drink. Within the next half an hour, five people turned into ten—ten turned into twenty—and somehow fifteen minutes later, that twenty turned into two hundred.
    Did the party have a TV commercial spot as well? Where the hell did all these people come from?
    I watch the door with latent curiosity, waiting for the guests of the hour to arrive, but still… no Ana… no Elena.
    Just co-ed after co-ed.
    Cheerleader. Frat. Goth.
    I wander around aimlessly, helping Foxx keep a tab on things. As if he needed the help . He’s got big, burly security guards at the house’s major entrance points.
    Despite the persistent and unseasonable chill in the air, every part of Foxx’s mansion is at the partygoers’ disposal. The pool, the furnished basement. Everything .
    Everything but the upstairs floor.
    Foxx doesn’t want anyone upstairs—told me he doesn’t need any careless college students stumbling up the stairs and getting knocked up on his watch.
    But he didn’t include me in those rules.
    I brush past security without a word, heading up the stairs so I can drink and mellow out in relative peace.
    I don’t need another frat boy wrapping his arm around my shoulders to convince me to sneak another keg in. And I certainly don’t need another of Ana’s friends purposely flashing me tits and ass every time I turn a corner.
    I’ll pass on the theatrics.
    I hop the stairs two-at-a-time on my way up to the second level mezzanine. The downstairs symphony of noise fades further into the background with each step, and for the first time all night, I can actually hear myself think.
    I slow down midway in my ascent, taking labored sips out of my Solo cup.
    The shuffle of my pant legs as I move towards the mezzanine sounds almost deafening. My footsteps start to sound hollow to my own ears.