Homewrecker (18+)

Chapter 4

A/N: cover made by @ForeverChanged02

"Come on girls!" Teresa cried cheerfully, nudging her friends up the thin, wooded and modern spiral staircase, shoes in hand and makeup smeared from all the sweat that had coated their faces.

When we reached her bedroom, I entered with exactly the same expectations. Everything was gold. Her curtains were gold, her bedsheets, her laptop, her desk chair. The walls were a glimmering shade of gold that seemed to sparkle against the hardwood floors.

"Why do you love this color so much?" the orange haired girl asked, Jane, I learned her name was, as all of them admired the master bedroom in awe.

"It represents expense," Teresa replied softly. "Beauty. Purity."

I walked up from behind her. "You like it because it's what you want to be," I whispered into her ear.

She turned around and glanced at me. "Who says I'm not pure?"

The girls fell into an awkward silence, but the snicker that soon turned into laughter escaped Teresa's mouth, and almost immediately everyone began to follow along.

"Who am I kidding?" she giggled. "Fûck being pure. At least fûck it for tonight."

"That's the spirit!" I cheered with fake enthusiasm, all of the girls howling with laughter.

I wondered what her father would think, seeing that she's a bundle of rebellious teenaged emotions masked by an innocent daddy's girl.

"So are we opening the presents?" Jane asked, eyeing the pile of colorful, neatly wrapped gifts that were now shoved into the corner of her bedroom.

The girl that I had met earlier with the piercings and white-blond hair, Rebekah, piped up. "You said we'd be drinking vodka," she whispered, a joyous yet esoteric glint in her eyes, as if she were hiding something.

She had made it clear at the party that she hasn't consumed alcohol before, but perhaps she was covering a little secret. These girls were wide-eyed, boy crazy and slightly immature, but that doesn't mean innocent.

"Rebekah, of course we are. What's a sleepover without alcohol and a game?" Teresa asked, oblivious to Rebekah's uneasiness, instead laughing giddily.

Teresa was sitting in the middle of the room with her legs crossed, and the other girls were sitting around her, the glow of their iPhones illuminating their adolescent faces. Soft pop music echoed from the speaker hooked in the corner of her room.

As everybody chatted and sent pictures back and fourth from the party, I leaned against her wall, arms crossed, and sighed.

"Teresa," I said monotonously, boredom creeping into my attitude. "I'm going to use the restroom. Is there any food from downstairs you want me to bring?"

Teresa thought for a second, and a devious smile outlined her lips. "Are you good at sneaking stuff?"

Shamelessly, I cracked a mischievous smirk. "Of course I am. What do you need?"

"There's alcohol stashed in my father's office under his desk. Pick anything that we can all share, but don't make it look obvious that it was taken." Teresa said seriously, her eyebrows pulling together. "He trusts me."