His Twisted Obsession

Dawn's Point of View

I have made plenty of bad decisions in my life. Getting wasted the night before an exam. Skipping class to get high because my best friend Damian asked me to. Poor choices, all of them, but ones with which I could live.

Coming to this party, though, is the second-worst decision I have ever made. The first is the very reason I’m standing here in the first place.

“I want you to take my virginity,” I tell my best friend.

He chokes on his drink. His eyes go wide, blinking at me as if he misheard me.

“Dawn.”

“Not now, obviously. Just promise me you won’t let me turn twenty still a virgin,” I say, biting my lower lip. He stares at me like I just sprouted two horns.

His eyes move slowly across my face. His lips part. He says nothing.

“Dawn,” he whispers.

I know Damian, though. He is my person. He won’t make fun of me or use this against me. I have heard that the first time hurts, and that is exactly why I want it to be with him. Someone who knows me. Someone who actually loves me.

“Promise?”

“You’ll find someone before then. I mean, look at you.” He shakes his head, almost smiling. “Every guy in college is going to lose his mind.”

He wasn’t wrong. I know I’m pretty, like really pretty, but the only person I have ever wanted is him, and he has no idea.

It is why I have never let anyone else get close. He is the only one I want—the one I want that moment to belong to.

My eyes sweep across the living room. I need to find him. My birthday is tomorrow at midnight, and we need to talk about our deal. But being here is reminding me exactly why I prefer books and music to people.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Shitty Jeremy drawls.

I ignore him and push through the crowd towards the kitchen. I need to find Damian and get out. I promised I would come, and I did, but I also need to have that conversation.

I shove past Jeremy without a word, still scanning the room. Damian is tall, easy to spot in any crowd, but tonight he is nowhere.

“The church is down the street!” someone shouts over the music. Laughter ripples through the room.

I will not let him ruin this for me. Today, my best friend scored a hat trick, and he is celebrating at this afterparty. I was not there, but I heard he was brilliant.

“I didn’t know nuns drink alcohol!” another voice calls out as I stop near the keg.

I am not here to drink. I am the designated driver when Damian is drinking, and tonight he is drinking.

I hate parties.

I hate jocks, specifically because they never know when to stop. But I love Damian, probably more than I should, which is why I am here at all.

Across the living room, a girl in a bikini dances on a table.

I cringe.

I could never humiliate myself like that for someone’s attention.

A small, traitorous voice in the back of my mind says I would if Damian asked.

I silence it. My Damian is not like these people. He never has been. That is what I love most about him.

I have been in love with him since I was twelve years old. He does not know, and sometimes that fact alone is enough, especially when I watch him fall for girls who do not deserve him.

I am about to give up and head back to look for him from outside when my back is suddenly soaked. I go still.

Behind me, Sabrina and Kylie are laughing.

The lump rises fast in my throat. They have made my life miserable since sixth grade.

And it is not only them. It is everyone. Some girls hate me simply for being close to Damian, but Bree and her crowd take it to another level entirely.

I blink hard, wiping my hands on my jeans. My fists curl at my sides. My lips tremble around words I do not say, because I know saying anything will only make it worse.

I turn away. And just as I think the night can’t get any worse, the crowd suddenly erupts. I already know who walked in before I even look. The energy in the room shifts in a specific way that only happens for one person.

Killian Larsen.

He moves through the door holding a bottle of Bud Light, dressed in dark, baggy jeans, a black shirt, his red and gold hockey jacket, and a baseball cap worn backwards.

He looks good. I will give him that. But his soul is as dark as everything he wears. He does not smile, not even as people celebrate his game. I heard he scored today, just not a hat trick. Maybe that is why his expression is so grim.

His eyes travel around the room as if he knows I’m here. And when they land on me. A frown settles on his face.

That is my cue.

I turn and find the nearest door; it doesn’t matter if I have seen Damian or not. Killian is enough reason for me to leave this party.

I keep glancing back, hoping he didn’t follow me. Out back, there are guys playing games and beer pong, so I stay small and move fast.

I round a corner and stop when I see two people pressed against the wall, making out. They shift, but I can’t get their faces clearly. Which is good, that means they didn’t see me.

My chest tightens.

I do not want to interrupt, but this is the only way to my car. I take another step forward, and then my heart stops altogether, because the person kissing that girl is Damian.

My Damian.

I know I have no right to be hurt. He is not mine, not the way I want him to be. But every single time I see him with someone else, something in me breaks.

He is supposed to be mine. I have held him through every heartbreak, through finding out Heather cheated, through all of it.

But when I see who the girl is. My entire world tilts.

Bree?

I must have said it out loud, because they both turn. My eyes burn as I look between the boy who is supposed to be my best friend and the girl who has made my life a living hell since the day she arrived in town.