Read Online Turtle Bay by Tiffany King - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tiffany King
Tags: Contemporary
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with disgust. I had even defended these freaking people when it now appeared Josh had been right all along. Looking to my left, I spotted Paris and Leslie laughing hysterically as they lobbed two bottles each over the railing. They were so smashed their bottles barely made it over the side. The acid in my stomach churned as bile began to rise in my throat. Buttercup would break out in hives if she knew I was standing here doing nothing to fix the situation. She was the kind of person who would walk ten extra steps to pick up a piece of trash. She and Butch concerned themselves with things like our carbon footprint and the shape of the environment for future generations.
Everyone around me continued to dispose of all the empty bottles from the party by throwing them over the rail. It was like a sick game to see who could throw them the farthest. Not that it mattered. It was too dark to see anything. No one cared where the bottles landed. They only cheered for the sound of shattering of glass.
"Duck and cover. Incoming," Steve yelled. Pretending his bottle was a grenade, he made a show of pulling the pin and ducking for cover after he threw it. He laughed at himself like it was the funniest thing anyone had ever seen. What a tool.
"This is mature," I muttered.
Evan grinned at me. "I'm telling you, you gotta try it," he laughed, handing me an empty beer bottle before lobbing one of his own over the rail.
Everyone pressed against the rail as much as possible, eager to join the idiocy. Surely the neighbors could hear what was happening. I was surprised the cops hadn't shown up yet. As much as I knew Buttercup would expect me to be some voice of reason in this situation, this was exactly the kind of scene I couldn't afford being caught up in. I needed to leave.
"I'm out," I told Evan, who had taken a long pull from a half-empty bottle of Cuervo Gold before chucking it over the side. "This isn't my idea of a good time," I said, backing away with the beer bottle held loosely in my hand.
"That's because you haven't tried it." He snagged my wrist and dragged me toward him, using his body to keep me pressed against the rail. Nothing like a drunken creep with dominance issues. "Come on. Give it a try. Trust me, there's something freeing about it. It's like telling the world who's fucking in charge."
"Knock it off," I said, attempting to yank my arm out of his grasp. Shoving off the rail, I was able to squirm enough to free up my leg to stomp on his foot. He staggered backward until landing in a heap on his backside. "God, Evan, what the hell is wrong with you?"
Either he was too drunk to feel the pain or I hadn't stomped his foot as hard as I thought because he remained on the ground laughing with everyone else who had found humor in our exchange.
I could have punched them all in their smug, drunk faces. "This is your big rebellious way of sticking it to the man—littering?" I said sarcastically, waving the bottle I was holding in the air.
He bobbed his head, grinning at me like he didn't have a care in the world. "Sticking it to the man," he hooted hysterically.
I rolled my eyes without any further comment. There was no point in arguing with someone drunk off his ass. It was time for me to leave. I forced my way through the group of people who had encircled us when suddenly everyone began scrambling like an alarm went off. Anyone who had been in the house was now frantically pushing and shoving to escape through the patio doors as if they were being chased.
"Remain where you are and put your hands in the air," a loud voice demanded through a bullhorn.
Great. Just great.
Chaos erupted as everyone tried to get the heck out of Dodge. Farrah, who was standing next to me, shot me a worried look, debating whether we even had a chance to run. The decision was taken out of our hands when a dozen uniformed cops ascended the steps to the pool deck.
I spun around to see Evan jump to his feet, trying to fight his way back inside the
Everyone around me continued to dispose of all the empty bottles from the party by throwing them over the rail. It was like a sick game to see who could throw them the farthest. Not that it mattered. It was too dark to see anything. No one cared where the bottles landed. They only cheered for the sound of shattering of glass.
"Duck and cover. Incoming," Steve yelled. Pretending his bottle was a grenade, he made a show of pulling the pin and ducking for cover after he threw it. He laughed at himself like it was the funniest thing anyone had ever seen. What a tool.
"This is mature," I muttered.
Evan grinned at me. "I'm telling you, you gotta try it," he laughed, handing me an empty beer bottle before lobbing one of his own over the rail.
Everyone pressed against the rail as much as possible, eager to join the idiocy. Surely the neighbors could hear what was happening. I was surprised the cops hadn't shown up yet. As much as I knew Buttercup would expect me to be some voice of reason in this situation, this was exactly the kind of scene I couldn't afford being caught up in. I needed to leave.
"I'm out," I told Evan, who had taken a long pull from a half-empty bottle of Cuervo Gold before chucking it over the side. "This isn't my idea of a good time," I said, backing away with the beer bottle held loosely in my hand.
"That's because you haven't tried it." He snagged my wrist and dragged me toward him, using his body to keep me pressed against the rail. Nothing like a drunken creep with dominance issues. "Come on. Give it a try. Trust me, there's something freeing about it. It's like telling the world who's fucking in charge."
"Knock it off," I said, attempting to yank my arm out of his grasp. Shoving off the rail, I was able to squirm enough to free up my leg to stomp on his foot. He staggered backward until landing in a heap on his backside. "God, Evan, what the hell is wrong with you?"
Either he was too drunk to feel the pain or I hadn't stomped his foot as hard as I thought because he remained on the ground laughing with everyone else who had found humor in our exchange.
I could have punched them all in their smug, drunk faces. "This is your big rebellious way of sticking it to the man—littering?" I said sarcastically, waving the bottle I was holding in the air.
He bobbed his head, grinning at me like he didn't have a care in the world. "Sticking it to the man," he hooted hysterically.
I rolled my eyes without any further comment. There was no point in arguing with someone drunk off his ass. It was time for me to leave. I forced my way through the group of people who had encircled us when suddenly everyone began scrambling like an alarm went off. Anyone who had been in the house was now frantically pushing and shoving to escape through the patio doors as if they were being chased.
"Remain where you are and put your hands in the air," a loud voice demanded through a bullhorn.
Great. Just great.
Chaos erupted as everyone tried to get the heck out of Dodge. Farrah, who was standing next to me, shot me a worried look, debating whether we even had a chance to run. The decision was taken out of our hands when a dozen uniformed cops ascended the steps to the pool deck.
I spun around to see Evan jump to his feet, trying to fight his way back inside the
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