Midnight Disaster ~FINALIST Watty Awards 2012~

Chapter 19 (Revised 4/21/2019)

"Hook up?" Miles questioned, scrunching up his face as he spoke. "What's that?"

I shook my head, small smile on my lips. "Never mind, it's not important."

He shrugged and looked uninterested. "Okay."

"Hey!" I heard an unfamiliar voice call from the crowd suddenly.

I turned and scanned my eyes through the various people to find the source of the voice and noticed some boy I had never seen before waving at me from the crowd. I rolled my eyes and looked away without feeling any interest.

Miles heard him too. "Do you know him?"

"No, I've never seen him before in my life. He's just flirting. That's exactly why I hate parties," I said. "It's just a bunch of drunken immature guys that flirt with everyone and girls egging them on."

I walked closer to the house, the music pounding into my ears as we skirted along the side, partially obscured by the yard decorations. The backyard was filled with its own drunken yells, and I sighed, slowing down. Miles did the same, watching as I leaned against the house, sliding all the way down to the ground as I did so.

Instantly, cold seeped through my shorts, and when I lifted my hands, I realized they were covered in mud. Grimacing, I made no move to get up—the damage was already done.

Miles watched me before he scanned the crowd. "Are you worried about Cameron at all?"

I forgot about the uncomfortable feeling on my skin as I looked up at him, caught off guard by the question. "Why would I be?"

"Aren't you worried about other girls flirting with him at this party since he went in there alone?" he asked.

I shrugged and leaned my head against the hard siding of the house I looked up at him. "Not really, I mean it's none of my business," I said, my heart twinging in violent jealousy at the thought of Cameron making out with someone the way the strangers in the front yard were. "Why do you ask?"

"Why is it not your business?"

"We're only friends," I replied. "He can talk to whoever he wants, I don't care. As long as he's still my friend at the end of the day it doesn't really matter much to me."

"You guys seem more than friends to me." A new voice joined our conversation from behind us.

Miles and I turned to look at Cory at the same time.

"Oh no, not him again," Miles muttered, instantly looking the other way.

I had the opposite reaction—instead of pretending he wasn't there, I glared coldly at him. He smiled in return, holding up his beer can in a salute.

"Why's that? Cuz we hang all the time?" I rolled my eyes.

"No, because he stays the night. Because not a day goes by without you being glued at the hip." He paused to take a sip of his beer. "Y'all must be really good friends if you know what I'm saying."

I stood to my feet, sliding in the mud and forgetting that it was all over me. "What are you implying?"

Cory smiled again, not at all offended by my tone. "Well, if you aren't with Cameron, who are you with? You must be crushing on someone."

My eyebrows pulled together. "If I am, it's no concern of yours."

"Oh, come on. Don't be that way. What do you say you and I do something sometime?"

I scoffed, jaws hanging open as I fought my disbelief. "And what of Clarissa?"

He shrugged. "She don't have to find out." He laughed like he had just told the best joke.

I thought about Fiona suddenly, how Cory had hurt her down to her very core with cruel and selfish tactics like these. Cameron was right to hate him—he didn't love Clarissa, the only person he ever cared about was himself.

Breathing slowly through my nose, I scanned the area, hoping for a glimpse of Cameron, but I didn't see him. I'd have to handle this situation on my own...until Miles decided to chip in of course.

"Haven't you ever heard of boundaries? I'm her best friend you piece of shit."

He blinked, gulping down another mouthful of beer. "I know."

"You know so you should know what you just said is wrong. The girl loves you so why do this kind of shit to her?"

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her," he replied, crumpling the can in his fist before looking up at me. "So whataya say?"

"I say you're on your own," I replied, turning my back to make a face to Miles.

He growled, a deep low rumbling that started in his chest but grew louder, the noise sounding like it was coming from a rabid dog. He looked down then, the shadows concealing his face from sight.

"Miles?" I asked uncertainly.

His head snapped up to look at me then, moonlight glinting off his eyes. His face twisted, nose scrunching and eyes drawn tight with angry. Every one of his teeth had sharpened into dagger-like fangs.

A sinking feeling in my stomach told me I was about to finally learn what it was that Miles ate.