1642734778_punk-57-pdf

called already, just to break it up and send Ryen home. But no. I’ll let her
choose.
As we walk into the house, a group of girls runs past us to the stairs,
laughing and falling into the wall as they stumble up the steps.
“Nice,” Lotus laughs, making like he’s going to follow them.
But I grab his black ponytail and pull him back. We’re not here for that.
“Hey, man.” J.D. comes up, shaking my hand. “I’m glad you’re here.
You going to set off some fireworks?”
I laugh to myself, knowing he knows I would rather swallow needles
than be in this house. “I wasn’t planning on it. Have you seen Ryen?”
He shakes his head. “Not in the last fifteen minutes.” And then he
narrows his eyes on me. “You going to tell me what’s going on between you
two?”
“No.”
He snorts. “Okay.” And then he moves around me toward the family
room. “I’ll be close. If you need me.”
I nod and look back at the party, scanning the crowd as we step down
into the living room.
“Well, well, well,” Trey says, stepping through the crowd and
approaching me. “What the fuck do we have here?”
He’s flanked by a couple of his friends, and I steel my spine, keeping
my expression hard as I stare at him.
“You want trouble?” he says. “We can give you trouble.”
I feel my bandmates inch in closer, and Trey’s eyes flash to them as if
finally realizing I’m not alone.
“Not in my parents’ house, though,” he clarifies, suddenly nervous.
Enough. “Where’s Ryen?” I demand.