The Third Wheel

Seventeen ~ Prepare to Burn

A/N at the end of chapter :)

RECAP FROM SIXTEEN ~ PLAYBOY IS NOT A BOOK

"Spencer has a friend he wants me to meet, so there, that’s my new boy toy I’ll be screwing since you seem to care so much,”

Instinct made me call out, “What’s his name?”

Sasha’s eyes flickered to mine briefly. “Tristan Parker,”

“NO!” I yelled.

"Stay out of my business,” Sasha gave me a poisonous smile. “Wish me luck Ari, I have to go teach the good boy how to be bad,” she purred before sauntering out of the room and slamming the door shut behind her.

Never in my entire life had I hated Sasha Jennings as much as I did in that moment.

If I had have known what would come next, I would’ve reserved that statement for later when I truly wanted to kill her.

***

SEVENTEEN ~ CROSSING ALL THE LINES

Thinking before acting was a good motto of mine.

A well thought out process and plan, setting out the steps and ensuring everything was done right. But when Sasha said his name, all rational thought went flying out the window and my blood boiled hotter than an active volcano.

Tristan could not be hers. She could have any boy, every boy as far as I was concerned, but Tristan? He. Was. Mine. No one else’s. They were complete opposites, two entirely different specimens of humanity. What idiot decided to bring Golden Boy Tristan Parker along to a gathering that Sasha Jennings of all people threw? Only a brain dead moron. Did his parents even know?

I could hear the loud raucous of Sasha’s followers arriving already and I hoped to God that Tristan couldn’t make it.

“So you’re the fabulous Tristan Parker I’ve been hearing about,” Sasha’s charming voice floated up to me, standing at the top of the glamorous stairs.

Too late.

I didn’t hear Tristan’s reply, no matter how far I leaned over the banister. This was bad, this was really bad. I would’ve preferred to go through Scott’s kidnapping again than have Sasha’s dirty claws all over my boy.

I needed to stop it. Maybe throw some manwhore at her in the hopes she’d get distracted. I rushed to Sasha’s floor length mirror, desperately trying to arrange my hair in a more ‘I have sexy ruffled hair’ style than ‘I have a rat nesting in my hair’.  When it was slightly tamer, I rummaged through Sasha’s drawers and carefully applied some mascara, trying to enhance my eyes.

Glancing down at my outfit of leggings and a loose v neck t-shirt with black ugg boots, I figured I should change. I pulled on some black skinny cargo looking jeans and some black combat boots – both of which Sasha had bought for me on one of her many insane shopping raids – before standing in front of the mirror once more and pursing my lips.

It would have to do. I had my future boyfriend to save.

I followed the raucous laughter and loud music to one of the many living rooms, freezing at the sight of so many people. There was at least fifty people, some lounging around on the white leather sofas with beers, other’s standing and talking and some of the rowdier crowd on a make shift dance floor in the middle of the room.

Then I spotted Sasha.

Curled up in a corner sofa, really only meant for one person, her leg draped over the knee of the innocent and wide eyed Tristan, his hands braced tensely against the arm of the chair beside him. She was chatting animatedly, holding a glass of a clear liquid in one hand and flashing her perfect teeth. Even I could see she was trying every trick in the book on the unsuspecting nerdy Golden Boy.