I pay the driver and run inside and take the stairs two at a time. The place is packed with people in white.
Stupid fucking full moon party.
I run down the corridor and burst into our room. It’s empty.
My chest tightens . . . fuck, where is she?
I run down to the bar and look around in a panic. I see Eddie. “Where’s Hayden?” I stammer.
He looks around and points over to the corner. Hayden is sitting with a group of people, laughing and having the time of her life. She’s relaxed and having fun.
In her white dress . . . the sky turns red.
We make eye contact, and I turn and march back to the room, furious.
I storm into the shower, and I’m so angry that I can’t even see straight.
I shower and go back to the room to find Hayden lying on the bed. “Hi, babe.” She smiles happily. “How was it?”
“Why haven’t you answered your fucking phone?” I yell at the top of my voice.
Her face falls. “What?”
“I’ve been calling you. All day, worried sick.”
“What do you mean?” She picks up her phone and frowns as she reads the screen. “Forty-two missed calls?” She looks up at me. “What’s wrong?”
“I thought you were dead in a ditch,” I cry.
Her eyebrows rise. She’s surprised by my tone. “Don’t yell at me, Christopher.”
“Don’t yell at you!” I explode. “I’ve been worried sick all day. Do you know how fucking irresponsible you are?”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“My phone was on silent while I read, and then I went to the bar and must have left it in the room. I wasn’t expecting a dog squad tracking my every move.”
“Dog squad!” I yell. “I’ll give you fucking dog squad.”
“I’m sorry you were worried, but I wasn’t expecting you to call me.” She rolls her eyes.
“That’s unacceptable,” I fire back. “Don’t fucking patronize me.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re being a drama queen. I’m going back to the bar.”
“Are you serious?” I yell.
“Yes. And you are supposed to be out there working right now . . . remember?”
I point to the door. “Get out!”
She smiles goofily, totally unfazed by my anger. “Okay.” She pecks me on the lips and leaves. My eyes nearly pop from my head. She did not just walk out midargument . . . I’m infuriated.
My blood pressure is through the roof.
I head out to my locker and pull out my backpack, and a drunk couple comes ambling down the corridor. They start making out, and as the girl walks backward, she falls on top of me.
“Watch what you’re fucking doing,” the guy growls to me.
I raise my eyebrows, my temper simmering dangerously close to the surface. I help the girl up. “I’m sorry you didn’t see me.”
She’s laughing and falling all over the place. “Hey, I’m glad I did,” she flirts.
The guy narrows his eyes at me, and I clench my jaw as I glare at him.
Come on, fucker . . . try me . . . I’m in the mood to sort you right out.
“Are you coming to the party?” The girl smiles sexily.