❝ the only problem that i got with the club ❞

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And roll out your maps and papers,
Find out your hiding places again.
The only problem that I got with the club,
Is how you're severed from the people,
Who watched you grow up.

"The Love Club" -Lorde

The rest of the week passed without any more incidents. We went into town a couple times and went on the yacht as well, but they were pretty uneventful. Or at least, as uneventful as they could be with Jacen hung-over and grumpy half the time.

And he says he's not an alcoholic.

There was another dinner with the parents, in which Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair announced that they would be going away for the next two weeks on a business trip. The last night was a girl's night, per Vanessa's insistence.

It was a little awkward since Skylar seemed to be in a bad mood, Keira and Vanessa didn't speak much to each other, and I was fairly certain that Keira hated me. But Vanessa did bring people in to do our nails, and we got a spa treatment as well.

Since it was only about nine-thirty when we finished, Vanessa insisted that we watch a movie, then share secrets. Keira suggested 'Fear Island', and since no one else voiced an opinion, that was what we ended up watching. It was about a group of teens who were stranded on an island. They were slowly getting killed off because of some big secret and someone in the group was the killer.

Ironic, I know.

The share secrets thing didn't really work out, though. Before the end of the film, Vanessa and surprisingly Keira as well, were asleep.

"You know," Skylar said as the end credits rolled. "I think we're a lot more fucked up than they are."

I turned to look at her, and noticed that her eyes were a little glazed over. I had noticed Skylar drinking from a dark green glass. I had assumed it was juice, or water, or something, but looking closer now, I realized that it was definitely something with alcohol. She looked a little tipsy.

I swear half the Elite are secret alcoholics.

"What do you mean?" I asked, even though I knew perfectly how messed up the Elite was. I didn't expect Skylar to have a lot, if any, information about what was going on. Knowing Ashton, he had probably kept his best friend out of the loop. But I had to play my part, even if she was intoxicated and might not remember anything tomorrow morning.

She giggled. "It's kind of a funny story actually."

"What's a funny story?" There wasn't really anything funny about one of the Elite being a psychotic killer so I had a feeling we weren't on the same page now...

"Love is pretty stupid," Skylar muttered, looking down, then taking a sip from her glass.

I nodded. "What's the funny story?"

She clapped her hands together and sat up straighter. "Is it story time?"

I stared at her. How does anyone keep up with Skylar when she's drunk?

"You're telling the story, remember?" I reminded her.

"Oh yeah," she giggled, then stopped. "What story am I telling?"

I give up. I shook my head. "Never mind."

She clapped her hands together. "But I want to hear a sto- kidding. I'm not that drunk, Elena," she said, dropping the tipsy expression on her face.

I blinked.

What. The. Fuck.

"Eventually you get tired of waking up with a hangover," she explained, probably reading the expression on my face. "Besides, people tell you a lot more when they think you're drunk."

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