Punch

An Hour Earlier

Delilah

“Okay. Don’t peek yet,” Sabrina demanded, forcing me to face away from the mirror. She spent the last two hours, preening me for the mixer I was being forced to attend against my will. I had plans to finish unpacking and curling into bed with a book, but my eccentric roommate and self-proclaimed new best friend had other plans for me. “Are you ready?”

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” I said anxiously.

“You sound nervous, but you shouldn’t be. Trust me; I worked my magic and you’re now one of the hottest girls on campus.”

I snorted and wondered what fantasy world she was living in. There was nothing extraordinary about my looks, and you wouldn’t see a guy do a double-take when he walked by, which was fine with me because there was nothing wrong with being average.

“Okay. Turn on three. One…two…three!”

Sabrina whirled me around and my breath caught as I stared at myself in the mirror. I was stunned speechless. My mouth moved, but the words never tumbled out as I stared at my reflection. I couldn’t believe it was me in the mirror. As I admired my makeup, I ran my hands through the silky brunette strands that cascaded over my breasts. Sabrina was beyond talented and did an amazing job bringing my dull hazel eyes to life.

“What do you think?” she asked suddenly.

“I think you have a real gift,” I praised, still checking my reflection.

“Thank you, Delilah. I’m glad you like it. I told my dad I wanted to be a professional make-up artist, and he flipped out so badly that you would’ve thought I told him I wanted to drop out of school and join the circus.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, unable to relate to her struggle. My dad was the most supportive person I’ve ever known. He always told me I could be whatever I wanted to be and not to let my lineage hold me back.

Sabrina blew a raspberry and waved me off.

“Don’t apologize. But, hey, you need to get dressed. Your date to the mixer will be here soon,” she sang.

“It’s not a date; it’s a group thing,” I insisted, accepting the cocktail dress from her.

She snorted and pushed me out of her bedroom with a pair of heels.

“Be ready in five.”

I was staring at myself in the mirror again five minutes later. The dress was a sage satin backless dress that stopped mid calf with a slit running down the side, exposing my thigh. The fabric that held up my dress, tied around my neck and hung down my back—tickling it when I moved, and the nude heels complemented my dress perfectly.

“I almost forgot. Do you have jewelry?” Sabrina called from her suite.

“Yes!” I answered before rummaging through the small jewelry box I brought with me. I was relieved when I found a pair of diamond tear-drop earrings that my mother had gifted me. I didn’t know much about them other than they were passed on to her from her mother, and they were expensive as hell. Too many times I was warned not to lose them. I fastened the earrings in my ears and spritzed myself with a floral-scented perfume before joining Sabrina in the living room.

“Oh, my Goddess. You look so hot! I’m jealous!” Sabrina squealed, making me blush. I was about to compliment her on her little black dress when we were interrupted by knocking on the door. Sabrina flounced to the door and threw it open with a wide smile. “Julian,” she purred, holding her hand out.

“Sabrina,” he replied, accepting her hand and kissing it. “You look ravishing.”

“Thank you, but I’m more interested in what your friend thinks,” Sabrina purred, practically shoving Julian to the side. “Don’t be rude. Introduce me to your friend.”

The boy in question seemed just as nervous as I was. He licked his lips often and had difficulty maintaining eye contact with Sabrina. I couldn’t blame him. She was bubbly and apparently a seductress.

“Right…um…this is Landon Ventura. Landon, this is Sabrina Blackwell.”

“Ventura, you say? You wouldn’t happen to be related to Jeff and Felicity Ventura, would you?”

Landon blushed and scratched the back of his neck.

“They’re my parents.”

“That’s what I thought,” she said with a smirk as she threaded her arm through his, leading him into the hallway. “Do you have a mate, Landon?” Sabrina asked. I couldn’t hear his answer as they moved further down the hall.

“Wow, Delilah. You look…wow,” he repeated.

“Thank you. You look great,” I complimented genuinely. His blonde hair was styled to perfection, and his black suit was expertly tailored. He wore a gold wristwatch that probably cost more than my parents’ annual salary.

“Are you ready?” he asked, offering his arm. I nodded and looped my arm through his before locking the door.

I silently prayed to the Moon Goddess that the night would go smoothly.

***

I took a shaky step up the stairs that led to the event hall. That prickly electric feeling returned full force and I knew Professor Grey was present. The urge to seek him out was overwhelming, but I wasn’t an idiot. I couldn’t approach him—not now in front of the faculty and student body. I needed to get him alone so that we could figure out what the hell to do about us.

I knew he was freaking out because he had so much to lose—his reputation, his teaching position, and respect. I just needed to know where we’d go from here. Would he reject me? Or was there some way for us to be together?

We entered the event hall, and the mixer was in full swing. Music loudly thumped from the speakers, and students either stood off to the side conversing with each other or were embraced on the dance floor. I shivered when Julian leaned in and smoothed his hand down my back until it rested above my ass. Instantly, I stepped away from him but froze when I heard a vicious growl from the corner of the room. I was shocked to see him…my mate being dragged out of the back door.

I need to go to him.

“You’re really slumming it up, aren’t you, Julian?” Anastasia taunted as she and her cronies circled us like sharks in the water.

Julian smirked.

“Slumming it up? That’s rich coming from you,” he said accusingly.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“How many packs of ramen can you exchange in prison for a cigarette?”

I unintentionally snorted because the question was so random and unexpected. Anastasia’s cold eyes slanted to me, as if I were the one who asked the question.

“You think that’s funny, poor girl?” she asked, taking a step towards me.

“Don’t do this, Anastasia,” Julian warned. His warning fell on deaf ears.

“You know what I find funny? I think it’s funny that you would’ve shown up to the mixer in a bargain store dress that your mother probably swore up and down looked luxurious without the high price tag if it weren’t for your roommate. You can play dress up all you fucking want, but you will always be stinking, rotten trash.”

My eyes blurred with tears, but I refused to let a single one fall. They were just words—words from a seriously broken girl, who probably had insecurity issues as tall as Mount Kilimanjaro.

“You know what, Anastasia?” I said.

“What?”

“You can go fuck yourself.”

“No!” Julian yelled, but it was too late.

A moment later, I was drenched in punch when one of Anastasia’s friends dumped the punch bowl over my head. The music stopped, and all eyes were on me. Most of my cohorts took their phones out and started recording while others tittered at my misfortune. A few of the faculty members approached us, but before they could reach me, I shot off towards the back door that Professor Grey had left out of earlier.

I can’t be here right now. If I stayed any longer, I’d kill her.