Hailey and I find an L-shaped booth that gives us a stunning view of the city. The couch is plush and velvety, accompanied by a glossy black table and orange lantern centerpiece. Jason and Cameron join us a few minutes later, clutching our ice-cold drinks and looking like some frat boys with bad intentions.
"Bottle service, head service, I came in first place!" Cameron chants, raising the bottle in his hand and swaggering into our section. He sets a gleaming white bottle of Malibu Coconut Rum and four highball glasses in the center.
"You are so gross," Hailey tells him, wrinkling her nose at his innuendo. "And I thought you were getting us champagne! Where's the Dom? The Ace? The Hennessy?"
"Hennessy is cognac, and none of that is gonna get us drunk. You'll take yo' ass right to sleep." Cameron careens around her long legs and plops down onto the cushions.
I take a sip of my Amaretto; it's an intoxicating balance of sweet and sour, just how I like it. "Oh, I don't know. I had a little bit of Hennessy on New Year's and it fucked me up."
Jason, who has an arm draped around my shoulders, smirks behind the rim of his glass. Cameron just hikes an eyebrow, his mouth curling on one side, as he starts filling up the glasses with rum.
"A lightweight, huh?" he quips. "Probably saves Jason a lot of money on drinks."
"Not all of us have to get a girl drunk for her to like us," Jason points out. "And TK is just as much fun sober."
Hailey and I chuckle at Cameron's expense; he just scowls and pushes a glass toward each of us. The clear liquid sloshing around inside could've been water, if it weren't for the balmy scent of coconut wafting from the contents. Hailey sniffs her suspiciously.
"I can't drink this without cranberry juice," she declares.
"Don't be bougie," Cameron scolds, even though he paid for an entire bottle of rum, is wearing Versace eyeglasses, and dines regularly at, as Jason told me, five-star bistros. "We're chugging these straight." He glances around at all of us, a dare to challenge him gleaming in his eyes, and raises his glass convivially. "To being a millennial."
I roll my eyes secretly at his theatrical toast before tipping my head back and joining our communal chug fest. The distinct coconut flavor eases the burn of the alcohol, but only a little. It's like liquid fire racing down my throat.
Cameron is the first to slam his glass down, completely drained, followed by Jason, his honey eyes glittering and liquid guilt dripping from his lips. Something changes after we down the liquor, like an electrical current sizzling to life. We all look around at each other with bright, feverish gazes, and slow, stupid grins spread across our faces.
"Shit!" Hailey exclaims, coughing on the aftertaste. "That was so disgusting but so good at the same time."
"That's what she said," Jason grins, making me jab an elbow into his side. He clutches his stomach and leans forward, and for a second I think I've actually hurt him - but he just chuckles and reaches across me to give Cameron dap.
"That deserves another toast. We might as well finish this off," Cameron announces, tipping the Malibu over the rim of his glass. With his other hand he rummages around in his red-white-and-blue-striped cardigan and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He pats his other pocket and glances at Jason. "You got a light?"
Thinking of the doctor's warning earlier today, I can't help but watch Jason's reaction. I don't expect him to heed medical advice much after he walked out of the hospital technically without permission. But I wouldn't go so far as to say he has a death wish. And he promised me he'd try to stop. Still, I'm not surprised as he sips his gin and tonic and carelessly tosses Cameron his lighter. Just like his gun, of course he has one tucked away.
"Thanks." Cameron cups his hand over the flame and takes a long, steady pull. "You want one?" He extends the pack towards Jason, pushing a cigarette up with his thumb, and grins. "But only if the next round is on you."
"I'll buy it anyway," Jason replies with a smirk - just because he can and he will. "But no thanks, man, I'm good. I'm off that."
"Good boy," I murmur to myself at the same time that Hailey says, "Smart boy," and seizes the bottle of rum from Cameron, thrusting it above her head by the neck like a celebratory Olympic torch. "You're taking too long. See what nicotine does to you? Jason, Tess - to healthy lungs and normal reflexes!"
Jason and I snicker as we clink our glasses against Hailey's bottle and chug the rum for the second time. I have to swallow hard, the stinging syrup of it washing back up my throat, like my body is rejecting water as it fills my lungs. But it's nice to let go and escape my troubles for a night, to trust the life sipped from bottles and let it tame my hunger for peace. So I decide to drown in it, let it lie within and numb me from the inside out.
We're all sputtering when we come up this time, a hybrid of coughs and delirious laughter - except Cameron, who is blowing smoke loosely and watching us like we're misbehaving actors on the set of his big directing break. His glass is miraculously empty.
"Normal reflexes, huh?" he says doubtfully. "That's nothing compared to my tolerance."
"There's no such thing as... high and low tolerance... for alcohol," Hailey informs us, holding up a finger like she's delivering a lecture. "It's only genes for the enzyme... alcohol dehydrogenase." She smiles cheerily to herself for having pronounced this correctly in her state. I'm impressed, too. "The more enzymes you have, the faster you... digress alcohol. I mean, digest."
"Genes, yes. Exactly," Cameron says, nodding like she's just enlightened us with a fascinating scientific discovery. "It's in my genes. It's in all ours. We're young, we're beautiful, survival of the fittest and natural selection got us invited to this party..."
I laugh and put my drink to Jason's lips so he can stop trying to steal a sip. "How do you guys always manage to find the best parties, anyway?"
"Besides my fabulous model connections?" Hails asks, thrusting out her arm wildly and almost smacking Cameron in the face.
"I go to NYU, remember?" Cameron replies simply, pinning Hailey's arms to her side by wrapping his around her shoulders. She loops her arms around his waist and starts bopping to the Usher song blaring from the speakers. He studiously ignores her in the manner of someone used to her behavior. "City nightlife is lit during the summer, since all the students do is party."
"Really? I'm surprised I haven't seen my cousin around. She's in the city this summer for an RA training program. She starts there in the fall," I tell him.
"Oh, yeah? What's her name?"
"Nina Russo."
"Hmm. Doesn't sound familiar. Is she cute?"
"Yeah. Kinda stalker-ish, though," Jason says.
"Jason!" I chide.
"What, you want me to say Nina is ugly? She's your cousin; that'd be like saying the looks run in the family."
Cameron makes a noise that sounds like he's choking. I'd be concerned if I didn't know he was laughing like a smoker.
"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it." I purse my lips. "She's not a stalker! Actually, I think Cameron would really like her. You just think everyone who has a crush on you is obsessed with you, too."
"Aren't you obsessed with me?" Jason grins, reaching up to nudge my chin and winking.
I roll my eyes and scoot away from him purposely. "God, you're lucky you're hot and have a good personality," I say, and then finish off my Amaretto. "Otherwise you'd just be a fuckboy."
"A man in the street but a fuckboy in the bed!" Hailey chants, changing the lyric as Ludacris raps the classic line - a lady in the street but a freak in the bed! - from Usher's "Yeah" on the speakers. Our booth erupts in laughter and high-fives to Hails.
"What about you guys?" Cameron asks Jason and me, grinding his cigarette into an ashtray that seems to have magically appeared. "You going to college in the fall?"
"Cal State," Jason says proudly, kicking his feet up on the table.
"Ugh, I can't wait." It's kind of hard to think about something as innocent as school with the world of problems we're living in right now, but the freedom and opportunity of college is still exciting. Plus, the mention of it makes me homesick. "I miss the beach. The open spaces. And the city stinks. I miss the clean air." I wrinkle my nose for emphasis.
"Not this again!" Cameron protests. "New York is obviously better. And you can't tell me there's no smog in California with all that weed y'all smoke."
"Everybody gets high sometimes, ya know?" Hails belts out, both in response to his comment and to sing along with the pop-EDM track blaring throughout the party. She's spot-on with the lyrics tonight. "What else can we do when we're feeling low?"
"There's smog in San Francisco, sure," Jason admits, swirling the ice in his glass with his pinkie like a boss. "But L.A. is pristine. And for the record, I haven't smoked weed since - "
He doesn't get to finish, because he breaks off abruptly with a violent cough. I swipe his drink out of his hand before he can drop it, and he winces slightly, clutching his chest and breathing shallow breaths.
"Since this afternoon?" Cameron jokes, not knowing the gravity of the situation in the slightest. "You sound like you just hit the blunt too hard, bro."
"Babe, you okay?" I murmur, placing a hand on his knee and rubbing his back.
"And I hope, I hope, someone's gonna take me home!" Hailey sings out. "Somewhere I can rest my soul! I need to knoooow!"
Jason pauses for a few moments to let his breathing return to normal. I feel him relax underneath my hand and he smiles up at me wanly. "Yeah, I'm good. I'm gonna get some water." He shoots up to his feet before I can reply and points at Cameron and Hailey. "Shots on me. I'll be right back."
I watch him worriedly as he leaves the booth, but I pull my gaze away when Cameron clears his throat like he has something important to say.
"So, your cousin," he reminds me. "Does she look like you? 'Cause if so, I'm gonna need you to put me on."
I laugh softly, blushing and flattered. "I can definitely talk to her. She's sarcastic and funny like you. And I'm sure she'd like to know someone on campus when school starts."
"Yeah, I could show her around. Now that I'm a sophomore I can't wait to corrupt freshmen with my advice."
"You can try it. She's feisty."
"Like you? I can handle it." He watches me curiously as if his glasses allow him to see what's underneath. "You should invite her next time we go out. Then Hailey can see what third-wheeling feels like for a change."
"Maybe you'd have a girlfriend if you stopped flirting with girls who are already taken." Hailey drags herself upright and crosses her arms over her chest with a pout. "Like Tess. You keep looking at her like that and Jason will knock you upside the head." She raises her fists to guard her face. "He's a bad boy." She giggles and swats at Cameron like she's punching him.
I could be imagining the color that rises in Cameron's cheeks - it could just be the rosy glow of the lantern playing across his face. Still, he avoids my gaze as he says, "Hails, you're drunk. Everybody's lovey-dovey to you when you're drunk. Hell, you flirt with yourself when you're drunk."
"How many times are you gonna say 'you're drunk'?" Hailey wonders, stirring the remains of her Sex on the Beach. The ice has melted and muted the vibrant color - it just looks like Crystal Lite now. "I know I am. Now I just wanna dance."
Jason returns then, carrying a platter of shot glasses filled with a smooth-looking, amber-colored liquid. He looks considerably better, his eyes bright and energetic. He offers a glass to each of us and lifts his to the center.
"Lit," is all he says, and once we chant after him and knock drinks and down the shots, I see why he said that - it's Fireball, cinnamon whiskey. I feel the trail of fire rip across my tongue and blaze down my throat, burning my insides. Somewhere between the first taste and the full indulgence of the liquor, I realize how intoxicated I've become in a short amount of time.
"WOOO!" Jason exclaims, hopping to his feet and pumping his fist like he's blowing a truck horn. He swings me up beside him and grips me by the waist as he kisses me so passionately that'd it be embarrassing if we weren't tipsy. He tastes of whiskey and lip balm and warm air and sinful good. I'm dazed when he pulls away, and he smiles lazily down at me, his eyes alight, his arm still wrapped around my hips.
"Wanna dance?" he asks with hopefulness in his voice. As if I would say no.
I feel myself nod, and then we are threading ourselves into the tangle on the dance floor, Hailey and Cameron trailing behind us. From here the party is a blur of noise and light and movement. The music pounds up through my feet, into my blood, vibrating my bones. Darting neon lights pick out bliss faces and tan limbs, lighting them up in brilliant red, bright yellow, burning violet. The crowd is hot with the press with bodies and the smell of sweat and smoke and liquor.
Jason takes my hands and pulls me toward him, and we dance. I easily lose myself in the pounding beat and the rush of blood in my veins. And Jason, well - there isn't much he can't make his body do, drunk or not. I roll my hips against him slowly at first, rhythmically, guiding his hand down my stomach, across my hips, along my thighs. When the music speeds up, I start grinding against him, sliding up and down his body fluidly as he presses it to mine.
Call it liquid confidence, but a boldness rises up in me, making me move and wind and lean in a way I never have before. The sensation of being dizzy and giggly and happy for no reason doesn't hurt, either. Jason finds me entertaining at least, laughing at my energy, hyping me up, catching me when I stumble to make it seem like a part of the dance.
As I'm singing along to one song he catches my hips on their erotic rotation and spins me around so we're dancing into each other, bodies melting into one. I laugh enjoyably and grasp his jacket, tugging him down for a kiss, just as Cameron and Hailey sidle up to us with full cups.
"Still drunk?" Cameron shouts over the music.
"Off my ass," I yell back, wiggling to demonstrate.
"Not enough!" Hails declares, and thrusts the fizzy scarlet drinks she's clutching out to us.
"What's this?" Jason asks, taking one and sniffing it.
"Firework Punch," she replies. "House special. It's nothing crazy, I promise."
"But it'll get you fucked uuuppp!" Cameron hoots, making rocker signs with his hands and spinning Hailey into the crowd as the beat drops.
Jason and I look after them for a moment, shrug at each other, and sip heartily. It's a delicious mixed drink, sweet and fizzy like soda, strong and pleasantly sour like alcohol. It must be fruit punch, seltzer, and God knows how many different types of liquor. I don't really care, because it invigorates my senses once more.
When Jason lowers his head, his mouth is stained pink from the drink. He watches me, his hazel eyes dark under his long lashes. Happy for no reason. I think of the way we were together when we first came to New York. He was the Jason I had discovered underneath the brokenness, the cynicism, and the arrogance: happy and hopeful. We both were. There was no nagging doubt, no cold dread, no paralyzing fear, no feeling that he was slipping away from me.
I lean up and kiss Jason then, slowly and definitively. My mouth explodes with a sweet and sour taste. I pull away, licking the taste of him off my mouth deliberately. He's breathing hard; he reaches for me, but I spin away, laughing. I feel wild and free and light. Not a moment later, Jason's arms snake around me from behind and hold me tight. I melt back against him, closing my eyes, letting my head fall into the curve of his shoulder. I can feel his heart beating on my spine as I rock into him.
Jason's fingers dig into my hips, and lust seizes me so greatly I tremble. I twirl so we're face-to-face, wrapping my arms around him. I notice we've somehow ended up at the edge of the dance floor, where the press of bodies is lighter. I slip my hands under the hem of his T-shirt, my nails grazing his ribs - his skin is hot to the touch. He leans down to whisper in my ear, but I can't hear a thing. I turn my head to kiss his neck, dragging my mouth up to his jaw, and then I'm pushing against his chest, urging him away from the crowd, backing him toward the shadows of the rooftop.
As soon as we're out of sight, I yank Jason toward me and we crash like the sea against the shore. Our mouths collide and slide together. Jason lifts me up so I'm pinned between his body and the wall, his fingers twisting in the material of my dress.
I'm only conscious of hot pressure and soft lips, hands seeking and finding, murmurs of pleasure and moments of yielding to maintain. My hands under Jason's T-shirt again, fingernails digging into his back, savage satisfaction ripping through me when he gasps, not at all in pain. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and tugs, as if to pull me into him, and our lips and tongues and teeth clash like we want to tear each other part just to seal back together with a kiss.
It's dark back here, so dark Jason's body is only an outline. I have to rely on taste and texture and touch, I wrap my legs around his waist. He slides his hands down my body and reaches the end of my dress, drawing it up along my thighs.
I whimper against his lips, a desirous sound I shouldn't make in public. I suppose anyone could walk by and see us, but Jason's hands don't stop what they're doing. He trails a path of kisses down my neck, and then across my shoulder, easing the strap of my dress down.
"TK..." he murmurs against my skin, his voice full of longing, of a secret, stolen promise, of a precious and enduring love. "TK, baby girl..."
I can't take it when he says my name like that - like it's the answer to all his prayers. Right now it scatters my thoughts, fracturing the world into bits like the pieces inside a kaleidoscope. I take his face between my hands as if to bring him into focus and press a kiss to his mouth so intense it's bruising. He groans, gripping my flexed thighs around his hips, and my hands are so tightly bunched in his shirt I'm afraid I'll rip the material. We are wound around each other like vines, veins humming and hearts pounding, lust dripping from our lips and drenching our embrace, making it all the more fluid and intimate. I'm going to come apart under his hands; I can't believe we're in public.
As if this realization hits him at that moment too, Jason finally drags himself away from me with no small effort. He's breathing hard from the passion, and he leans a hand against the wall behind me, dipping his head.
"TK," he says hoarsely. "We should stop."
I stare at him, panting as well, suddenly noticing the dark circles underneath his eyes, the way his chest heaves as he catches his breath, the feverish flush of color across his cheeks. I can't find it in me to be embarrassed, but I do feel a little guilty.
"You're right," I say. "I don't know what came over me." Actually, I do - with my emotions uninhibited by alcohol, the intense feeling of missing him hit me on that dance floor, on top of the fear of losing him today, and it all just came out carnally. "I'm so sorry. You got shot today - I shouldn't be all over you like that."
He gives me a bewildered look. "You're always apologizing. Ever since I met you. I was a jackass from the very first time I talked to you, and you said sorry."
"And you told me not to be. Is this another one of those times?"
He smiles with half his mouth, keeping his hand on the wall and slipping a hand in his pocket like he's spitting game after school. "Don't apologize for being sexy, baby girl. That was hot back there. I just think we should get back to Hails and Cameron before they start to worry. Plus, our security might be looking for us. Vince isn't gonna like that I ran off to make out with you after what happened today."
"When he shuts down the party and scares everyone off the roof, you can blame it on me."
Jason curls a piece of hair behind my ear and pulls the strap of my dress back up my shoulder. "That's drunk TK talking."
"Needy TK, you mean. Who else can give me what I need?" I bite my lip, fully aware that my
drunkenness has a seductive mind of its own.
"Jesus, baby girl. Don't tempt me," he mutters, his jaw clenching with restraint. He swallows, takes a deep breath and straightens up before shaking his head and drawing me away from the shadows, assimilating back into the crowd.
I feel a dull thump of disappointment as we return to the party. It hasn't paused - lights are flashing, music is bumping, bodies are swaying. Our security seems not to have noticed our disappearance and is still in position. We find a spot on the dance floor and I turn to face Jason, lacing my fingers over the back of his neck and swaying to the beat. He places his hands on my waist, but I notice his gaze is locked on something - someone - across the space, pulling his eyebrows together and glancing around furtively.
I stop dancing immediately. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Vince just looked at me like something was up. I'm gonna go see what's going on." He looks down at me and holds me by my arms, his gaze imploring. "Find Hailey and Cameron. And go back to our booth, okay? I'll be right there."
He waits for me to say yes, I heard him, and yes, I'll do what he says, before squeezing my arms and slipping away. Without his steady presence, the party becomes a swirl of light and noise. A sense of disorient washes over me for a few seconds. I get pushed and elbowed as I make my way back to our booth and collapse onto the couch gratefully. With the pressure relieved from them, my feet send up an ache through my legs and to my lower back. I tip my head back and close my eyes, at last realizing my exhaustion.
Hailey joins me about twenty minutes later - along with some guy who looks like he models for Vogue. My eyes fly open when I feel them flop onto the cushions, Hailey hanging off the guy's neck and nestling in his lap.
"Oh, hey Tess!" she squeals, giggling as her boo sneaks kisses onto her neck. She swats him away. "Sorry. You okay? Where's Jason?"
"I don't know. He said he'd be right back. Have you seen him?"
"No. But he better get his ass back here to kiss you when the fireworks start!"
"That's a New Year's thing, Hails."
She doesn't answer, and I look over to see it's because she's too busy generously making out with the guy underneath her. I imagine that's what Jason and I probably looked like, wrapped around each other, and I'm glad we stopped before anyone can see us.
"I'm going to the bathroom," I say to no one in particular, standing up and leaving the booth.
Hailey's passionate tryst was enough to make me want to throw up, but I actually do have to use the restroom. I have to go all the way down to the lobby and wait in line, and by the time I return to the rooftop I'm impatient and irritated.
My agitation quickly dissolves as the fireworks start with a bang. They explode in a shower of sparks, painting the black sky as they fall in streaking lines of gold, silver, blue, and red fire. It's beautiful, and all I want to do is find Jason. I know he said he'd be right back, but how long ago was that? Plus, I don't want to be alone at this party any longer. I missed fireworks with him once, on prom night, and I'm not doing it again.
I figure finding Vince would be easier than wandering through the crowd - he'll know where Jason is. My eyes scan the perimeter of the rooftop and land on Alexei, standing like a blond guard dog parallel to the dance floor. With the fireworks as my soundtrack, I weave my way through immobilized bodies; everyone is huddled together, hypnotized by the light display and oohing and aahing up at the sky.
"Tessa," Alexei says as I squeeze past a couple and stop in front of him. He sounds honestly surprised. "Is everything alright?"
"Everything's fine. I was just looking for Jason. Do you know where he is?"
"No. I only know he is with Vince."
"Yeah, I figured. I'll just go find Vince, then - " I turn to go.
Alexei reaches out and circles my wrist, tugging it gently to make me stop. His blue eyes are serious and steady. "Wait, Miss Tessa. You can't. Eleazar and I were instructed to keep you here and keep you safe."
I stare at him as comprehension creeps in. Jason is with Vince? But I'm supposed to stay put? That means they're not here. Ice crackles up and down my bones like someone just injected cold water into my veins.
"Alexei," I say, my voice shaking. "What are you talking about? Where's Jason?"
I don't know our new Russian bodyguard very well, but even I can't mistake the sympathy in his blue eyes. He hates to be the one to tell me this, whatever it is. He drops his hand from my wrist and says, "He's gone."
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