"Okay, you can open your eyes now." I tug on the long black t-shirt, hoping it'll stretch out further than mid-thigh, not because I think it's skimpy but because it's as cold as balls out here.

Oliver clears his throat, his eyes fluttering open as he slowly lowers the towel. "That was fast," he comments as I plop down on the ground and lean against the hard surface of the brick perimeter.

"I'm surprised you didn't peek," I muse, bringing my knees to my chest. I totally thought he was going to sneak a glance but his eyes were shut tighter than my grandma's pickle jars. Oh, pickles. I could go for a pickle. Or some pepperoni. Or cake. "I think I'm hungry."

"Well, I was raised to be a gentleman," Oliver smirks, sitting down beside me, our shoulders almost touching, the heat from his body radiating onto mine. He passes me his flask. "Here, have some malted barley, that's all we have unless you want to go inside and grab some food."

"Nope!" I snatch the flask out of his hand. "We're already established that inside sucks, this will suffice." I twist open the lip and take a reluctant sip, the liquor jolting me awake, sending a shiver down my spine. "Oh God, it still tastes like acid." A second passes and warmth spreads through my body. "Oh, nevermind...it's actually kind of nice. It's like a blanket...made of booze."

"Christ," Oliver chuckles, his eyes bright with amusement. "How high are you right now?"

My jaw drops. "What? I'm not high! Why would you say that? I feel fine. I feel better than fine actually, I feel great."

"Sorry to break it to you," he says. "But you're high, love."

"I am?" I hum, pulling the t-shirt over my knees as a gust of wind encircles us. "Are you sure? Maybe the cookies were defective. Maybe I'm just drunk?"

"Yes, Kennedy, I'm sure," he laughs. "You are stoned out of your mind."

"Shit, hey?" I muse, nodding my head, my mind a bit hazy, dull, but at the same time vivid and clear. "Huh, so this is weed...interesting. I thought it would be a little more intense."

"Were you expecting to have a sudden urge to commit mass murder or something?" Oliver teases. "Jump out a window?"

"Ha ha." I roll my eyes and playfully shove him as a shiver seizes my body. "I don't know what I was expecting, not this though."

Oliver's eyes narrow in on my bare arms. "You're cold," he observes. "You have goosebumps."

Shit, he's going to make us go inside. "No, I'm not," I peep. "That's just uh- my natural skin texture."

"Right," Oliver sighs, shaking off his jacket and tossing it on my lap. "Here. Take it."

"Aren't you going to be cold then?" I ask quietly, stroking the leather fabric, a slight flutter in my chest. Does weed give you heart palpitations? Is that a side effect? I'll have to Google later.

"I was born for a Siberian climate, remember?" he says casually. "Put it on. If you get sick, surely you'll blame me for missing classes and that will be a major nuisance."

"Okay," I say quietly, slipping on his jacket, an aromatic cocktail of spices and woodsy notes filling my lungs. Mmm. It smells good. Like a cozy winter's day. Like- I shake my head, turning to face Oliver. Nope. Just a jacket. "So? Umm...how does it look?"

Oliver nods, his tongue on the fringe of his lips. "A bit big," he whispers, flipping out the collar for me, his grey eyes studying me. "But you pull it off quite nicely."

"Yeah? Do I look like a bad biker chick?" I ask, holding up my fists and punching the air in tiny motions. "Like I could beat some bitches up?"

He snorts, shifting closer to me. "Are there bitches you'd like to beat up?"

"A few," I admit, leaning back against the brick wall, sucking in a deep breath. "That is, if I could do it and not suffer the consequences of my brutish actions."

"Like Corrine?" Oliver asks as both stare out into the still pool, the moonlight reflecting off its surface.

"She's up there," I hum, fiddling with the zipper of his jacket, attempting to create a beat with each movement. "Next to Maya, Larisa, Sawyer, Zeek, my mom, my dad. The list goes on."

"Long list," Oliver notes, taking a sip of Jameson. "I have a list too."

I let out a soft chuckle. "Maybe we can pull a Horrible Bosses," I suggest. "You take care of my list, I'll take care of yours."

"We can't," Oliver says, passing me the flask. "We're too close in association, it would never work. Perhaps we hire a hitman, wire the funds through an offshore account."

"A hitman just for a light beating? Seems excessive." I snort. "But I'm open to the idea."

"Excellent," he says, turning his head towards me, his features softened. "I'll search for one on the dark web later this weekend. We'll split the fee fifty-fifty."

"Deal," I smile, rubbing my hands together. "But if I get caught, I'm taking you down with me. I will sing like a canary, maybe even plead temporary insanity or something."

"Seeing as you're completely mental, I think that defense would work wonderfully," he smirks. "You could even call me up as an expert witness. I'll give you a raving testimony."

I roll my eyes, resting my cheek on the flat of bended knees. "Thanks," I breathe, a smile clipping my lips, a sense of calm relaxation spreading through my limbs. "I appreciate it."

"Of course," he says, his gaze flickering across my features as he lifts his hand towards my face. What is he doing?! Hesitating for a brief second, he sweeps away a piece of hair that's trapped between my eyelashes, his fingers grazing my cheek as he retreats. "You had a little something-"

"Oh." I push my hair fully out of my face, my breathing shallow, uneven. "Better?"

"Yeah." Ollie nods, clearing his throat as he shifts uncomfortably like he's sitting on a rock. "Are you uh- warmer now?"

"Mhmm," I hum, my face burning up where our skin met, my mouth suddenly very dry. "Really warm."

"Good," he says in a hoarse tone before his head snaps towards the yelling coming from the French doors that lead in to the yard.

Oh shit.

"What did you want to talk to her about? Huh?!" Corrine screams. "Tell me, Sawyer! What is it?!"

"I can't believe you went through my phone," Sawyer states, his tone stern as he chases Corrine down the grassy path. "You had no right to do that!"

"Uh oh," I say quietly, scooting closer to Oliver. "Do they know we're here?"

"I don't think so," Ollie whispers, focusing his eyes on the spatting duo.

"Give me back my phone, Corrine!" Sawyer begs, his tone softer. He's trying to control his temper. He's good at that. He doesn't yell often. Or he didn't.

"No, fuck you!" Corrine spits, her body vibrating in the distance. "Do you talk to her all the time? Do you delete messages? Tell me or I'm throwing your fucking phone into the pool!"

"I already told you, baby!" Sawyer exclaims. "I was just making sure she was okay!"

Oliver lets out a laugh, clearly entertained by this shit-show. "Shut up!" I hiss, elbowing him but it's too late. Sawyer and Corrine whip their heads in our direction. "Damn it, Ollie!"

"Will you relax?" Oliver says with a soft chuckle as Corrine stomps towards us, her steps sloppy, uncoordinated. Oh God, she's wasted.

"You!" Corrine seethes as Sawyer catches up to her, his eyes alarmingly apologetic. "You fucking little whore!"

I still, my eyes widening. "I'm sorry, what?" I ask. Is she really calling me a whore? Oliver tenses beside me before lifting me to my feet so that we're on an even playing ground. Smart move. "What did you just call me?"

"A whore!" Corrine yells, casting her livid gaze on Oliver. "Your girlfriend here is a cheater!"

A cheater?! What the fuck?

Oliver scoffs, putting a protective arm around my waist. At least he doesn't believe her. Or he just doesn't care. "Is she now?"

"Corrine, just stop," Sawyer pleads, putting his palm to his forehead. "This has nothing to do with KC, okay? Leave her out of this."

"What are you talking about?" I ask, flapping my arms. "Someone explain to me what the fuck is happening."

"This!" Corrine holds out Sawyer's phone, several text messages on the screen. To me.

"So I'm a whore because your boyfriend sent me texts?" I blink, reading the time and date of the messages. They're from earlier tonight. What? I bend over and grab my phone out of my purse and show her my screen. "Messages I didn't even read? Seriously?"

"Corrine please," Sawyer sighs, embarrassment flashing in his eyes. Why did he message me? What does he want to talk about? I don't understand. "Let's just go and talk. Leave KC alone-" His eyes harden as he looks at Oliver. "She's clearly busy."

"How do I know you haven't been texting this whole time?!" Corrine asks, her voice slurring.

"For fuck sake's, Corrine," Sawyer sighs. "I was checking in on her. She's never done edibles before. I was making sure she was okay."

"Bullshit! We all know Kenny's not over you! She'd do anything to break us up! She probably ate those cookies on purpose knowing you would get all worried and shit."

"What?" I laugh, astonished that she thinks I could be that conniving but also kind of pleased that she thinks I have it in me.

"She's a fucking snake!" Corrine continues, stalking towards Ollie. "How does it feel dating a cold-blooded reptile?"

Since she's drunk her words seem to have a weaker effect on me but I can't help but feel a spasm of pain in my stomach. A snake? Me? What is she basing this off of? I've never done anything to her, ever! She was the one who fucked me over. She was the one who dropped me. And I'm the snake?

"Stop talking," Oliver says flatly. "You're drunk and acting like a complete idiot. Go home before you make a joke out of yourself."

Corrine scoffs. "Me? A joke? No, the only joke here is Kennedy!"

"I'm not the one having a tantrum 'cause I'm wasted," I note. "Your anger needs to be redirected that way-" I point an accusatory finger at Sawyer. He can deal with her.

"Baby, you're overreacting," Sawyer says, keeping his tone level. "I was just making sure she was alright. Nothing more. You're blowing this way out of proportion. Please, just calm down."

"Why do you care so much if she's okay? Huh?! Why, Sawyer? Why?!" Corrine exclaims.

I know she's being a complete spaz right now but I'm interested in hearing his answer. Why does he care so much?

"Because," Sawyer mumbles. "We have history, it's hard to forget, you know-" He pauses, letting out a sigh. "It means nothing, baby, I promise."

Nothing? It means nothing? Well, that's good to know. Fuck you too, Sawyer.

Corrine grits her teeth together. "Block her number."

Sawyer blinks. "What?"

"Block her fucking number," she states again, handing him back his phone. "Right now, in front of me."

"She really does bring a new definition to the word crazy," Oliver whispers in my ear. I shift my weight to my right leg, leaning into his chest. "You seem quite tame compared to her."

I stifle a laugh, surprised I'm not crying. Corrine has a way of breaking me. She knows my weak spots. I suppose after years of friendship, she would know how to hurt me. "Shh, she can hear you."

"I'm not scared," Oliver says under his breath. "Are you?"

"A little," I whisper. I can't believe they're arguing in front of us. They're going to feel like idiots in the morning. "She has long nails."

"I'm not going to block her, Corrine," Sawyer states, ignoring our snickering. "Jesus, don't you trust me?"

"If you love me then you'll block her!" Corrine says, her eyes glossy. Love her? He's said I love you to her? "Please, Sawyer, just...block her."

Nothing makes sense. Why doesn't he just do as she says? It's not like we talk anyway. And apparently, he loves her so what's the hold-up? I'm getting tired of this. They're killing my buzz.

"Don't try and manipulate me," Sawyer stands his ground. "You're the one being unreasonable right now, not me. We can talk about this in the morning. Let's just go back to my place. Please, Corrine. Let's just go."

Corrine wipes a tear from under her eye, her jaw clenching as she faces me. "Are you happy now, Kennedy? This is all your fault!" She spins around and storms back into the house.

"Fuck!" Sawyer grumbles, running both his hands through his hair as he runs after her. "Corrine wait!"

"Wow," I hum, once they're out of sight. "That was eventful. I feel very sober right now."

"I can help with that," Oliver says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small joint. "Would you care to partake?"

"No, never again," I chuckle. "I don't think weed is my friend."

Ollie shrugs, sinking back down on the ground. "Suit yourself," he says, lighting up and inhaling the pungent smoke.

"Am I going to get second-hand high?" I ask as he exhales and I wave my hand back and forth, attempting to waft the smoke away.

"Probably," he says hesitantly. "I can put it out if you'd like?"

"No, it's fine," I whisper, biting my lip as I re-read Sawyer's messages. The first three were sent over an hour ago, probably after we bumped into them in the hallway. The last one, however, was sent twenty minutes ago. Odd.

"What's wrong?" he asks, furrowing his brows.

"Hmm?" I peer up at his inquisitive eyes. "Oh, nothing. Just uh- checking the time."

"The time? Did you want to go back to campus or something? All partied out?" Ollie smirks, butting out the joint. "I have the master key with me. We can call Eddie to pick us up. If you want."

"Oh, umm...I'm staying at Max's this weekend," I murmur, catching a flash of disappointment in Oliver's eyes. "Sorry."

"Right," he says, clearing his throat as he stands up. "I guess I'll just see you in class next week or something."

"Yeah," I whisper, collecting my purse, shoes, and damp dress. I can believe I fell into a fucking pool. Max is going to make fun of me for days. "Thanks for uh- coming with me tonight."

"A deal's a deal, right?" Oliver says dryly, fishing his phone out of his pocket. "I'm going to order an Uber now."

"Right now?" I ask with a frown. I don't want him to leave. Not yet. "It's only ten."

"My two hours are up," he states as he turns on his heel. "See you around, Kennedy."

"Okay," I hum. I did say that he only needed to stay for a couple of hours. Can't really ask him to hang around longer. I adjust the items in my hand. Oh shoot. Before he exits the gate, I add, "Wait! Do you want your jacket back?"

Oliver crane's his neck towards me, his face but a dark shadow. "No, it's fine. Keep it."

"Are you sure?"

"Just give it to me next week, yeah?"

I nod. "Okay."

As he walks away from me, I find myself confused by the minuscule hammering in my chest. I thought weed was supposed to help with anxiety, not cause it. How annoying.

Once I get inside, I forcefully drag a shitfaced Maxine back to her parents' house. Bribing her with McDicks usually works but this time she came willingly after she threw up in Lemar's den. Max's parents are still out at the casino so her housekeeper, Mrs. Vera lets us in and puts Max to bed while I take a much-needed shower, washing the chlorine out of my hair. Just as I hop into Max's bed, my phone vibrates.

I frown at the screen.

I get a reply instantly.

I scoff.

I roll my eyes.

What the actual fuck?

Why does he suddenly give a shit? Is he jealous? Is my plan working? If that's the case, why don't I feel better? Why don't I feel accomplished? Why don't I feel anything? My phone vibrates again. Oh my God. I just want to sleep.

I grin, flipping onto my side.

I roll my eyes.

I toss my phone on the nightstand cozy up to a snoring Maxine.

He's so stupid.

______________________

How's everyone enjoying the story so far???

It looks like Sawyer has some things to figure out. And Corrine, girl, are we feeling a little insecure?

Ollie and Kenny over here pretending they don't feel the feels. Uh-huh.

THOUGHTS?

Corrine vibes: