Chapter 3 He remembers

Tegan

“You want me to what?” I shouted,my hormones spiking up.

“Please Tegan, it's the only way we can avoid all this troubles and someone getting hurt”

“Last year a student died from jumping into a pool from the terrace,this parties are crazy” another one added, sighing frustratedly.

“And you think I can put a leash on Hayes?” I ask

“Yes,we obviously can't and we know you can do it,you never lost hope in us with the charities,no matter how difficult things were” Martha said.

She was part of the people I recruited for the fundraisers planning and she's been grateful ever since.

“Thank you Martha,but–” the words stop in my mouth.

I want to shout and scream at them about how the situation is much more worse because I'm pregnant and I need to find a way to handle my own shit not to think of others.

How the hell was I supposed to get Hayes to behave and keep the wild games to his sick teammates and not endanger the rest of the school.

“I'll do it” I croaked out.

They all sighed and started thanking me like I just saved their lives from massive danger.

I grabbed my purse, straightened my pencil gown and left the room quietly.

If I'm going to do this,I have to do it right

I gave my self some encouragement as I headed to the hockey house to see Hayes Ashford.

I stepped into the dark grotto,the housekeeper led me here and the place was a different contrast to the other part of the world experiencing day time

The place was dark and lit with blue lights and people were around the place,the pool was green.

Don't this people have other things to do than throw crazy parties. They were wearing scary ghostface masks.

My breath hitched when I saw that it was all the guys that wore the mask and the girls were in bikinis all over them.

The bass from the subwoofers in the place vibrated the floorboards, a rhythmic, physical thumping that rattled the teeth in my skull. The air was thick, humid with the smell of expensive liquor, sweat, and the artificial strawberry scent of vape smoke. A strobe light flashed over the crowd, illuminating a sea of plastic Ghost Face masks, sagging, glossy white faces with hollow black eyes that leered back at me from every corner of the room.

I stepped over a discarded red solo cup, the liquid inside splashing onto my stiletto heels. I hated this. I hated the noise, the mess. As Student Body President, it was my job to be the killjoy, the hall monitor, the wet blanket, and tonight, the blanket was soaked in keg beer.

Not that I liked it,I just had to do it and besides this is a school not some random place for parties,they can go elsewhere when they want to have wild fun.

In annoyance I scanned the stupid place for the source of the chaos. And of course It didn’t take long to find them. The hockey team had claimed the center of the dance floor, a shifting island of broad shoulders and aggressive laughter. They were chanting something unintelligible, a guttural roar that rose above the synth-pop track. And in the center of them stood Hayes.

Even with the stupid plastic mask covering his face, I knew it was him. He stood a head taller than the rest, his posture loose, a red cup dangling negligently from his long fingers. He wore a black hoodie that looked expensive and torn jeans. He didn’t move to the beat; he stood still, watching the chaos swirl around him like he owned the air they breathed.

I took a breath, steeling myself, and pushed forward with whatever strength I had left. I elbowed past a couple making out against a doorway, neither of them wearing masks, just grinding against the woodwork.

“Get the fuck out of my way” I grumbled angrily as I passed them.

And finally broke through the perimeter of the hockey team.

"Hayes!" I shouted, though my voice was swallowed instantly by the music.

He didn’t turn. He tilted his head slightly, acknowledging the sound, but kept his back to me.

Not backing down, I stepped closer, reaching out to tap his shoulder. My fingers brushed the rough cotton of his hoodie. "Hayes, stop!"

He turned then. The strobe light caught the white mask, turning the black eye sockets into dizzying spirals. He looked down at me, or I assumed he did. He didn’t say anything. He just waited.

"The music," I yelled, gesturing vaguely at the ceiling where the speakers were mounted.

"I have complaints from three different neighbors, Cade. You have to turn it down or I’m calling campus security." I tried to threaten him with the first lie that came to my mind.

He looked bored. He took a slow, deliberate sip of his beer, his eyes never leaving mine. Then, he set the cup down on a high table with a hollow clink.

He didn't speak. He simply stepped forward into my space.

I instinctively took a step back, but my heel caught the edge of the rug. I stumbled, but before I could fall, a large hand clamped around my upper arm, steadying me with a grip like iron. He pulled me forward, not roughly, but with an undeniable force that eliminated the gap between us.

"Security," He said. His voice was a low rumble, barely audible over the bass, vibrating against her chest because he was standing so close.

"The same ones my grandma hired for the school?" He continued tilting his head to the side slightly.

He's still putting on that stupid mask that freaks me out, but he won't get any reaction out of me.

"It’s my job," I snapped, trying to pull my arm free. His grip didn't loosen.

"And this party is a safety hazard. Look at this place. It’s a fire trap."

I glaced over at the crowd looking like crazy hormonal teenagers, grinding against each other and playing stupid games, some too drunk to even move, people lying on the floor like corpses.

"Fire trap," he repeated, his tone flat. He leaned down, his breath hot against my ear, smelling of mint and expensive whiskey.

"Regan"he breathed like he was dealing with a child.

"Don’t call me that," I hissed, turning my head away, though the movement only exposed my neck to him.

"Let go of me." I hissed.

Instead of letting go, he maneuvered me backward. My feet scrambled to keep up as he walked me backwards, step by step, until my shoulder blades collided with the cool, drywall of the hallway leading to the kitchen. The noise of the party was slightly muffled here, but the bass still thumped in the floor.

He crowded me, planting a hand on the wall beside my head, caging me in. He was huge, a wall of muscle and heat that blocked out the flashing lights of the main room. He reached up with his free hand and slowly pulled the Ghost Face mask off, letting it drop to the floor.

"You know," he murmured, his eyes dragging down my face, lingering on my mouth before dropping to the conservative button-down shirt I wore.

"I almost didn't recognize you with your clothes on."

My breath hitched in my throat. I froze, my back pressed flat against the wall. My heart racing.

He remembers