Prologue
3 years ago…
The end of year party was supposed to go smoothly and at first it did.
That was until I felt something wet and creamy splat into my hair, crumbling on my dress as I made my way to the exit.
Unable to move my feet, I turn on my heels, staggering slight as my heels make contact with the slippery floor.
Murmurs explode throughout before cacophonous laughter bouncs off the walls.
Cake. There’s cake in my hair and dress. And the one responsible for it stands only a few feet away from me, eyes wide but lips pressed tightly.
As if he wants to laugh.
And he does. Wild bursts of uncontrolled laughter before the whole hall is in stitches. Someone nearby is recording as he staggers forwarded, hands in the air as his eyes scan me from head to toe, undoubtedly inspecting his work.
“Fuck. I was tryna hit my friend. Don’t mind me.”
“Don’t mind?” I repeat, flabbergasted at the sheer audacity of this fucker. “You ruined my dress, you prick!” His brow cocks and his grin widens.
“I told you. It was an accident,” he replies smoothly with a shrug like it’s nothing deep.
I expected an apology at the least, maybe a tissue or a look of shame even. Yet none of it shows on his face. Balling my fists at the sides, I glance over my shoulder where my friends are gaping, and they distance themselves from the guys they were with.
Stella comes first, scowling and strutting like the confident, bad bitch she is.
“You could fuckin’ apoligise at least! Her dress was so freakin’ expensive!” Instead of backing down, amusement was written all over his face as he leaned down.
“It was an accident. She knows. I don’t need to apologise, shawty,” he says, tapping her forehead then straightening up, giving me a wink before walking off as if he did nothing wrong.
Two can play at this game.
Wiping the cake from my hair, I grab a perfectly creamed cupcake, pink, sticky and covered in sherbet Crystal sprinkles before dipping it in chocolate from the nearby chocolate fountain.
Stalking after him, I grip his hair from behind, tugging him low enough and slapping it onto his face, holding him in place as I rub it around despite his flailing arms.
When I pull back, I dust my hands off and admire my handiwork. Feigning shock, I press a hand to my chest, apologising incessantly and biting back a grin as he wipes the buttercream from his eyelids.
“I didn’t see you there but I’ll be careful next time.”
“Bitch, you’re gonna regret that,” he hisses, careening towards me and I bite down a scream as I sprint behind a group of people, darting through the maze of bodies.
When I turn to my side, he’s gathered more cakes in his arms and gives chase, hot on my heels as he tries to squeeze through the gaps.
In the process of trying to catch up with me, some of the cake splats onto nearby people who yell and cuss, grabbing food and throwing it at him but missing.
That stirs people as they get attacked by the delights, retaliating and starting an unforgiving food fight.
Screams and thuds reverberate as it rains in the room and still, he hasn’t given up, charging after me even as I slip between teachers who get caught up in the battle.
“Stop it!” One of the teachers shrieks, voice cracking but no one listens.
Something heavy thuds into my back, tackling me to the ground and all I can do to protect myself is cover my face with my hands as I’m rolled onto my back and smothered in cream and chocolate.
The heavy grip on my wrists sends my pulse skyrocketing and I respond with kicks before my legs are pinned apart, a heavy weight settling between my thighs and my hands are pegged above my head.
He must’ve seen the terror written all over my face because the smirk stretching on his face from ear to ear has me writhing beneath him.
Momentarily losing his balance, he falls forward, crushing the cakes with his weight on my stomach and chest. Watching my dress ruin entirely, I yelp, using all my strength to shove him off but to no avail.
Sitting back up, he licks his fingers before smearing some of the cake on my cheek and neck.
“There we go. Much better.” Before he can climb off of me, Nicole empties a whole jar of punch over his head, soaking the both of us and he slips, face planting directly into my chest.
Heat blooms fresh on my cheeks and I thrust him off, jaw slack and my pulse thrums thunderously in my ears as I cover my chest with my hands.
Nicole grins toothily as she helps me onto my feet, pulling me in as she whispers.
“I got tall bitch good.” When I glance back at him, he’s rubbing his face and his friends are by his side, cackling and watching a video they probably made.
“Lucky bitch.” I catch and frown.
What could be so lucky?
We ditch the party as the food fight continues, fleeing the crime scene whilst others quarrel and throw.
I hope I never see this bitch again.
Sebastian Cole.
Our eyes lock once more and my body freezes when I see the furnace in his eyes, resentment swirling like black smoke as he glares daggers at me before disappearing from sight.
Maybe I’ll be lucky.
