Diamonds in the Rough Page 8

  Once she and Evie had taken enough photos, she texted the best one to Nick.

  are u coming to Jackie’s party tonight? I was hoping to see u here…

  Can’t L Busy w/family stuff. I’ll cya in school on Mon

  Savannah frowned, but she wasn’t surprised. Nick was always too busy to see her out of school.

  “We’re about to play Survivor!” a senior guy yelled from the rec room. “Anyone wanna join?”

  “Do you know what that is?” Savannah asked Evie.

  “I have no idea.” Evie grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the rec room. “But let’s find out!”

  When they got inside, Savannah saw the last person she’d expected to find standing around the cluster of tables—Damien. He and his friends normally hung out on the Strip, eating at the trendiest restaurants and seeing popular DJs spin at clubs. He rarely came to house parties with the sports crowd.

  “Great game tonight,” he said when he saw her, giving her a high five. Their hands connected, and a warm tingle rushed up her arm.

  “Thanks.” Her mind raced for something more to say to him. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”

  “Oliver and I decided to do something different for a change.”

  “Survivors ready!” the guy who had started the game yelled before Savannah could reply.

  She quickly introduced Damien and Evie, then situated herself between them, trying to pretend like she wasn’t clueless about this game. Damien picked up the pitcher of beer in the center of the table and poured a small amount in her and Evie’s cups, and a little more in his.

  “Have you played this before?” he asked.

  “No, but we played flip cup earlier,” she said. “Evie wasn’t bad at it, but I was terrible.”

  “This is similar to flip cup, but everyone goes at once,” he said. “Each round the last person to flip their cup is eliminated, until there’s one person left.”

  “Doesn’t sound too hard,” she said. Except for the flipping-the-cup part.

  “Go!” the leader of the game yelled. Savannah forced herself to drink the beer—it was from the keg and tasted gross—and prepared to flip her cup. Damien got his in one flip. Evie got hers soon after. They both cheered her on, but after multiple unsuccessful tries, everyone’s cup was flipped but Savannah’s, so she was the first out. Which meant she had to leave her spot around the table and stand off to the side.

  Not having anywhere else to go, she watched the next round. Now that she was out, Damien and Evie were standing next to each other. They both flipped their cups quickly and gave each other high fives. Was it just in Savannah’s imagination, or was Evie tossing her hair more than usual, purposefully letting her arm brush against Damien’s and shooting him her trademark flirty smile that Savannah had seen her use on guys in Fairfield? And since Savannah was out of the game, all she could do was stand there and watch. Her blood boiled, and she crossed her arms. She didn’t want to look pissed off, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to see this.

  Maybe inviting Evie this weekend had been a mistake. Savannah loved her best friend, but Evie had always overshadowed her in Fairfield. Why would she have expected any different in Vegas?

  Damien glanced over at her, and she took out her phone, pretending someone had sent her a text. The next round started, and his cup-flipping skill somehow vanished. He was last and was kicked out.

  “Have fun, guys.” He high-fived the senior leading the game, then walked over to Savannah. “You looked upset, so I wanted to make sure everything was okay,” he said so only she could hear.

  Giddiness swirled through her body, and she put her phone away. “You got out on purpose?”

  “You’ll never know,” he teased. “But let’s find something better to drink—that beer tasted like ass.”

  “Glad I’m not the only one who thought so.” She made a face, because the beer really was sour and warm. “But let me check with Evie first. I don’t want her to think I’ve abandoned her.” She walked over to where Evie was still playing Survivor and was now flirting with the senior leading the game. “Hey.” Savannah squeezed Evie’s arm to let her know she was behind her. “Damien and I are going to grab a drink that isn’t beer in the kitchen. We’ll be back soon. Are you okay here for a few minutes?”

  “Of course.” Evie smiled and thanked the senior guy, who had filled an inch of her cup with beer. “I’m rocking this game. See ya in a few!”

  Savannah followed Damien into the kitchen, but the cheap beer and liquor in there didn’t meet his satisfaction, either. After some exploration, they discovered a walk-in wine closet near the garage. He switched on the light, illuminating the rows of wine. It was more of a small room than a closet, with walls of granite, tiled marble floors and wooden refrigerated shelves. Savannah doubted Jackie would be pleased that they were considering raiding her parents’ wine collection, but she was too happy to be there with Damien to say so.

  She shut the door so no one would follow them inside and get the same idea. Jackie’s parents wouldn’t notice if one bottle was missing, right?

  “This is what I’m talking about,” Damien said, examining the rows of wine. “What’re you in the mood for—red or white?”

  “Whatever you want.” Savannah wasn’t as knowledgeable about wine as most of the people at Goodman seemed to be. Their families taught them about wine and allowed them to have a glass or two at dinner. Savannah’s mom only kept the hard stuff in their apartment. It was cheap, and the few times Savannah had tried it, it had tasted vile.

  Damien perused the rows, taking a few bottles out and reading the labels. He reached one in the middle, paused and showed it to Savannah. “Amarone,” he said, pointing to the label. “One of my favorites.”

  “Sounds good,” Savannah said, although she had never heard of it.

  He found a wine opener, uncorked the bottle and poured the wine into the clean Solo cups Savannah had brought in from the kitchen. “Not the best way to drink wine, but it’ll work.” He handed her one of the cups. “Cheers.”

  Adrian had allowed Savannah and her sisters glasses of wine at dinner—although Courtney always declined—but Savannah was far from a connoisseur. They all tasted the same to her. She sipped the Amarone, and it was stronger than she’d expected, but good. Much better than the cheap beer and liquor in the kitchen.

  “Like it?”

  “Yes.” Savannah flushed at the sudden realization that she was alone with Damien in a small space. And the way he was looking at her, his dark eyes so intense, as if he wouldn’t have wanted to be in there with anyone else….t made her nearly forget to breathe.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she lied. Then, deciding better of it, she said, “I guess I’m wondering why you’re here with me instead of hanging out with everyone at the party. You were doing really well in Survivor—you probably could have won.”

  “You looked bored watching, so I thought you’d be happy to get away for a few minutes,” he said. “Was I wrong?”

  “No,” Savannah said. “This is actually my first big house party. I’ve seen them on TV, and they looked so fun, so I’ve always wanted to go to one. But now that we’re here…” She shrugged and sipped her wine while contemplating how to word it, not wanting to sound like a downer.

  “It’s not what you expected?”

  “Exactly,” she said. “People are either almost naked in the pool, playing drinking games in the rec room, doing drugs or pairing up. Even with Evie here, I feel out of place. Maybe I just haven’t had enough to drink. I tried that beer, but…” She scrunched her nose as she recalled the taste.

  “No explanation necessary.” Damien laughed and raised his Solo cup. “We have Amarone to the rescue.”

  They sat on the floor and chatted while drinking
the wine—after the first “glass,” Savannah felt warmer and more relaxed. Midway through the second, she and Damien were talking as if they’d known each other for years. There were a few times when their skin would touch, but he didn’t try to kiss her like he had in the Myst pool caves over the summer.

  She should have been happy that he was respecting her request to take things slowly—he had tried to move too fast by putting his hand down her bathing suit bottom on the first night they’d met—but she also felt disappointed. Was he only paying attention to her out of pity because she’d looked bored during Survivor and Evie was too involved with the game to talk to her?

  “What are you thinking about?” Damien asked. “You just got really quiet.”

  “Nothing,” she said, taking another sip of wine. But her body felt warm and tingly now, and Damien had asked, so why not tell him what was on her mind? “Well, I guess I sort of feel like I’m never going to fit in with anyone here,” she admitted. “The only reason Alyssa, Jackie, Brooke and the rest of them are being nice to me is because I know you and Nick, and because I made the volleyball team. They expect me to forget that first morning at Goodman when they wanted nothing to do with me. I’m trying, because they can be fun and it feels good to be part of a group, but I can’t shake the feeling that they’re not true friends. They’re all so comfortable with each other. But even with Evie here, I feel like an outsider.” Her cheeks heated, and she looked down at her wine, unable to believe she’d blurted that out to Damien.

  He tilted his head, his forehead creasing. “You’ve been comfortable at clubs all summer, and it’s a house party that makes you feel this way?”

  “You thought I looked comfortable at those clubs?” Savannah laughed. He had to be saying that to be nice. “Because I felt like an outsider there, too. But the clubs are different—they feel like a fairy tale, not real life. It’s easier to pretend that I’m what people expect me to be when I’m there. But being here, at Jackie’s house….t hit home for me. This is how they’ve lived their entire lives—with pools, saunas, spare bedrooms, live-in housekeepers, wine closets and refrigerators full of more food than they could possibly eat. I don’t belong here.” She wrapped her arms around her legs and looked down, ashamed at what she’d admitted. Stupid Amarone, loosening her tongue.

  “Hey.” He used his index finger to force her chin up so her gaze met his. “You might feel that way, but you do belong here. I know it’s a big change for you, and I can’t imagine what it’s like, but those girls aren’t only friends with you because you’re on the volleyball team. You’re talented, and fun, and you say what’s on your mind even if it’s not the ‘cool’ thing to say. I like that, and if those girls don’t, that’s their problem, not yours.”

  Savannah’s heart raced, and she stared up into his dark eyes, amazed by his kind words. “Thanks,” she said, still embarrassed she’d admitted so much, even if it was apparently a trait he liked about her. He was watching her so intensely right now, his eyes traveling to her lips, as if he were about to kiss her again. She took another sip of wine to cool her nerves. Maybe he actually did like her?

  Then she remembered when Madison had kissed him last summer, and how in that one instant he’d forgotten about her. How he’d gone on that teen tour and had those girls hanging all over him. And how Evie had flirted with him during the game, and he’d flirted back. Yes, he made Savannah’s heart race and made her feel like he cared. But he was a player. What if he’d brought her in here because of some stupid bet, like the one Oliver had made over the summer about her and her sisters? The two of them were close friends, so it was possible.

  “We should go back out there,” she said, then finished her wine. “Evie’s probably wondering where we are.”

  Disappointment flashed across his eyes. “If that’s what you want,” he said. “But before we go—what are you doing for dinner tomorrow night?”

  “Evie’s leaving in the afternoon, so nothing that I know of.” She played with her bracelets. “Why?”

  “I’ve been wanting to check out the new Italian restaurant at the Diamond,” he said. “Want to go with me?”

  She froze, her arm dropping to her side. Was he asking her on a date? Or did he genuinely want to check out this restaurant and was asking her out of pity after her embarrassing confession? Or was this the next move in his game, because she’d made it clear she wasn’t falling for it tonight?

  He watched her, waiting for an answer. “Sure,” she said quickly. After all, if she didn’t go, she would constantly wonder what would have happened if she did.

  “Great.” He smiled, seeming truly happy that she’d agreed to go with him.

  When she stood up, her head spun, and Damien reached out to steady her. “Thanks.” She giggled and tried to focus. When had the room started tilting so much? “I didn’t realize how strong that wine was until I got up.”

  “Amarone will do that to you.” He held out his arm, and she took it, grateful for his help as he led the way out of the wine closet. “Come on, let’s go find your friend.”

  They reached the living room, and Savannah spotted Evie sitting on the couch. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her lips curled in a scowl as she talked to Alyssa, whose hair was still wet from the pool. They both went silent when Savannah reached them.

  “Where’ve you been?” Evie glared at her.

  Savannah glanced at her watch and gasped—how had forty-five minutes passed since she’d left Evie in the rec room playing Survivor? “Sorry.” She laughed, but it turned into a hiccup, which made her laugh more. Evie didn’t laugh along—why didn’t she lighten up? This was a party. Evie always had fun at parties. “I didn’t realize how much time had passed. But you had fun playing that game with everyone, right?”

  “The game ended thirty minutes ago, but I got out soon after you guys left for the ‘kitchen.’” Evie’s voice was flat. “I tried to find you, but you’d disappeared, and you weren’t responding to my texts. So I was sitting here by myself until Alyssa came over.”

  “Sorry.” Savannah shrugged, since there was nothing she could do. It was unlike Evie to get all mopey. “Do you want a shot or something?”

  “No,” she said. “I’m good.”

  “Okay.” This was awkward. Especially since after all that Amarone, Savannah just wanted to have fun.

  “Jackie and Brooke set up karaoke in the rec room,” Alyssa said, breaking the silence. “You sing, Savannah, right?”

  “Yes, I do!” She jumped and clapped her hands. “Does she have the Frozen sing-along? I totally have to sing ‘Let It Go’! The Idina Menzel version, obviously.”

  “You can sing that?” Damien raised an eyebrow. “Don’t get me wrong, you have a great voice, but it’s a tough song.”

  “Um, yeah, I can sing that.” Savannah laughed and rolled her eyes. “Follow me and I’ll prove it!”

  She pointed at the rec room, took a shot in the kitchen on the way there and the night was a blur after that.

  Chapter 6: Courtney

  After a long morning of working at Habitat for Humanity, Courtney was ready for lunch break. She loved volunteering for Habitat, especially after meeting the family who would move into the house when it was completed, but she wasn’t used to physical labor. She’d been assigned to painting the outside of the house, and her arms would be hurting tomorrow.

  Once the pizza arrived, it was set up on tables, and everyone dug in. Courtney rarely took advantage of her Blamex—the Black American Express credit card that Adrian had given her and her sisters—but she hadn’t hesitated to use it to buy the pizza lunch for Habitat volunteers. She’d also ordered extra pizza for the family who would eventually move into the house, so they could take it home for tomorrow. She understood what it was like not knowing if there would be enough food for every meal, or to have to stretch a loaf of bread and jar of
peanut butter for as long as possible. Not a day passed when she didn’t feel guilty for having so much now when most people had so little, and she was determined to give back.

  Somehow, she’d ended up in front of Brett in the pizza line. He’d followed through with his promise to join Habitat with her—and despite Courtney’s insistence that they not get too close, he always worked around it, like by sitting next to her in the meetings, or getting behind her in line right now. And despite her attempts to neutralize her feelings for him, her heart still raced every time he was near.

  “Sit with me for lunch?” he asked after they grabbed their slices.

  He looked so perfect with the sun reflecting off his green eyes, his hair messed up from working in the heat all day, and Courtney couldn’t say no. She wanted to slap herself after agreeing. What was she doing? She should be joining a group to try making new friends, not going off with Brett. But her legs didn’t want to listen to her brain, and she followed him to a shaded, secluded spot under a tree.

  “Looks like you got more paint on you than on the house,” Brett said as they set their plates down on the grass.

  “Savannah’s going to flip when she sees my jeans.” Courtney took a long drink of water. The desert air was drying out her throat, and she finished half the water bottle in seconds. “But anyway, how’s the roof work going?” She phrased it casually, as if she hadn’t been subtly watching him work up there all morning.

  “I sucked at first.” He laughed. “But after a while I got the hang of it. I’m not the best, but I’m not as bad as Oliver. Poor guy almost fell off.”

  “I was surprised to see him here this morning,” Courtney said. “He’s never come to any of the meetings, and he didn’t strike me as the type of person who voluntarily wakes up before noon.”

  Brett chewed a bite of pizza. “I have no idea why he’s here, but he’s hungover as hell. One of the other guys mentioned that Oliver was partying pretty hard at that volleyball party last night. He might be moved to painting so he doesn’t almost fall off the roof again.”