BRIANNA

13. YOU CAN'T RESIST ME FOREVER

BRIANNA'S POV

The pulsating bass of the music thrummed through my body, and the dim, kaleidoscopic lights flickered like some surreal dream I couldn’t quite escape. Everywhere I looked, people were dancing, laughing, drinking, lost in the kind of chaotic energy that seemed to define nights like these. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected when I agreed to come with Sarah, but it definitely wasn’t this overwhelming storm of noise and movement.

I never considered myself a party person, and neither did Sarah from what I already knew about her, which made her insistence on attending all the more puzzling. When she’d mentioned that Lyla had invited her, I’d been surprised—no, more like suspicious. Sarah had never said anything remotely positive about Lyla or her circle of friends, and the idea of us mingling with them felt like walking into enemy territory. Still, there was something in her voice, some urgency I couldn’t quite pin down, that convinced me to go along with it.

I kept close to Sarah as we navigated the throng of bodies, her hand gripping mine like an anchor in the storm. She was tense; I could feel it in the way her fingers clenched and released, her eyes darting around the room as if she was waiting for something—or someone. I didn’t ask. I stayed silent, my own thoughts tangled in the noise. I was already starting to regret coming here. The music was too loud, the air too thick with the smell of sweat and cheap cologne, and every face I saw seemed to blur into the next. I didn’t belong here, and neither did Sarah, no matter how hard she tried to pretend otherwise.

And then I saw him. JC. He was standing by the makeshift bar, surrounded by his usual entourage—guys I recognized from school, girls who looked like they belonged in a music video. He had that effortless, cocky aura about him, the kind that drew people in even when they knew they should stay away. Sarah had warned me about him more times than I could count. He’s bad news, Brianna. Stay away from him. He’s nothing but trouble. I knew she was right, but there was something about him that made it impossible to look away.

I don’t know what possessed me to approach him. It was like some invisible force was pulling me forward, my feet moving before my brain could catch up. Sarah didn’t notice; she was too caught up in her own thoughts, her eyes fixed on something—or someone—across the room. By the time I reached him, I was already second-guessing myself. This was a mistake. I should turn around, go back to Sarah, and pretend this never happened. But then he looked at me, really looked at me, and all the doubts faded into the background noise.

The dim lights played tricks on my eyes, making his features even sharper, and more defined. The way his jaw clenched, the subtle twitch of his lips—everything about him seemed calculated, deliberate, yet there was an underlying chaos that simmered just beneath the surface. I didn’t know if it was the lack of experience with boys back home, or the fact that I had never met anyone quite like him before, but in that moment, I couldn’t deny that he was the most handsome boy I had ever seen.

It wasn’t just his looks; there was something magnetic about him, something that drew me in despite the clear warnings flashing in my mind. His eyes, deep and piercing, seemed to see right through me, stripping away any pretence I might have tried to hide behind. They were the kind of eyes that made you believe every rumour, every cautionary tale. Sarah’s words echoed in my mind, but they felt like whispers against the roar of curiosity that kept pulling me closer to him.

“Hey,” I said, my voice barely audible over the music. His eyes widened, just for a moment, and I saw the shock flicker across his face. He recovered quickly, though, that trademark smirk sliding back into place like a well-worn mask.

“You must have big guts for coming here, new girl.” The words were casual, almost lazy, but there was a sharpness to them that I couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t just a statement; it was a challenge, a test of sorts. The way he said ‘new girl’ made it sound like an insult, a reminder of my outsider status. I knew I was the new girl, but hearing it from him felt different. There was an edge to it, a subtle reminder that I didn’t belong in his world, that I was intruding on something I didn’t fully understand.

The fact that this was his party, his territory, only made it worse. He had to know my name; there was no way he would have allowed me to be here otherwise. That realization sat heavy in my chest, a mix of confusion and intrigue swirling together in a way that left me off-balance.

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words caught in my throat. What could I say? He was right. I had no idea where I’d found the nerve to approach him, to stand here in front of him like I belonged. The truth was, I didn’t even know what I was doing. It was as if some invisible force had taken control, pushing me toward him despite every logical thought screaming at me to turn around and walk away. His eyes didn’t leave mine, and the weight of his gaze felt like a challenge, daring me to break the silence. At least his friends had left to give us some space.

“Sarah must have told you a lot of things about me,” he continued, his voice low and smooth, almost mocking. “And since I know Kyle’s cousin, I’m guessing she didn’t have anything good to say. I think we must have been mortal enemies in our past lives.” He smirked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a way that was both infuriating and captivating. Mortal enemies? The idea was almost laughable, but there was something in the way he said it, something that hinted at a history I didn’t fully understand.

Kyle’s cousin. The words echoed in my mind, and realization dawned on me like a slow, creeping shadow. I had no idea that Kyle and Sarah were related. She had never mentioned it, never hinted at any connection beyond the superficial. It made sense now, how she had known about the party, why she had seemed so tense when we arrived. If Kyle was her cousin, that meant Lyla was too. The pieces were starting to fall into place, but the picture they painted was still incomplete, a puzzle with too many missing pieces.

“She did tell me a lot of things about you,” I finally managed to say, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. His eyes narrowed slightly as if he was trying to gauge the truth behind my words. There was a flicker of something—curiosity, maybe, or suspicion—but it was gone before I could fully grasp it.

“And yet here you are.” He lifted the glass in his hand, taking a slow, deliberate sip. His eyes never left mine, and there was something in his gaze that made it impossible to look away. It was as if he was searching for something, some hidden truth that he thought I might reveal. The silence stretched between us, thick and heavy, filled with unspoken words and unanswered questions.

I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to respond to the weight of his gaze. There was something about him, something that drew me in even as every instinct screamed at me to run. I could hear Sarah’s voice in my head, her warnings like a broken record, but they felt distant, almost irrelevant. I knew I should listen to her, knew I should walk away before I got in too deep. But I couldn’t. There was something about JC, something I couldn’t explain, that made it impossible to turn away. And as I stood there, locked in his gaze, I knew that this was only the beginning.

“You must be the new girl,” a voice chimed, saccharine and sharp, cutting through the tension like a knife as its owner stepped into my line of sight. The girl’s confident stride and unnervingly piercing glare made it clear she wasn’t just here to make small talk. She sidled up next to JC with an air of possessiveness so blatant that it practically screamed insecurity. Her arm brushed his in what I could only assume was a calculated move, and her lips curved into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. If looks could kill, I wouldn’t have even made it to my next breath.

I didn’t need anyone to tell me who she was. The way she looked at me, as though I was an uninvited guest on her personal turf, gave it all away. Lydia Wilson. Sarah had mentioned her more than once, usually with an exaggerated eye roll and a laundry list of complaints about her obsessive tendencies and unwavering belief that JC was her destiny. And now, seeing her up close, I could fully understand what Sarah meant. Lydia’s presence was overwhelming, her confidence teetering on the edge of arrogance.

“Hi, Jacob,” she purred, her voice sugary sweet and nauseatingly fake. She batted her excessively long lashes, and I had to suppress the urge to laugh at how cartoonish she looked. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” She tilted her head ever so slightly, her gaze shifting to me like I was an unwelcome intruder in her territory.

JC’s reaction, however, was far more telling. His entire body tensed the moment she arrived, his shoulders stiffening and his jaw tightening as though her mere presence was enough to put him on edge. He sighed, clearly exasperated, and looked at her with the kind of irritation one reserves for an unavoidable nuisance. “You’ve got a mouth, Lydia,” he said, his tone flat and devoid of patience. “Why don’t you do it yourself?”

“But I want you to do it,” she pouted, her voice dropping into a syrupy whine that only made her sound more ridiculous. For a moment, I wondered if she could possibly be serious, but the way she clung to JC suggested that she very much was.

JC sighed again, heavier this time, as though even breathing in her presence was exhausting. “Lydia, this is Brianna,” he said, gesturing vaguely in my direction without taking his eyes off her. “Brianna, Lydia.” His tone was clipped, and disinterested, like he wanted the interaction to be over as quickly as possible.

“And I’m his girlfriend,” Lydia added with a smug smile, her voice lilting with triumph as though she had just dropped a bombshell. JC nearly choked on his drink, coughing violently as her words hit him like a slap to the face.

“What the f**k?” he sputtered, his voice rising in disbelief. “Since when are you my girlfriend?” He stared at her, incredulous, as though she had just announced that the sky was green and the earth was flat.

Lydia’s smile didn’t falter. In fact, it seemed to grow wider, more self-assured, as though his reaction was exactly what she had expected. “Oh, Jacob,” she cooed, reaching out to touch his arm, though he quickly stepped back. “We both know it’s only a matter of time before you’re mine. You can’t resist me forever.”

If JC had looked irritated before, now he looked positively livid. His eyes darkened, and his lips pressed into a thin line as he glared at her with an intensity that could have frozen fire. “Let me make something very clear, Lydia,” he said, his voice low and venomous. “I am not your boyfriend. I have never been your boyfriend. And I never will be your boyfriend. So do yourself a favour and get over whatever delusion you’ve concocted in that twisted little head of yours.”

For a split second, I thought Lydia might actually take his words to heart. Her smile faltered ever so slightly, and her eyes flashed with something that looked suspiciously like hurt. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by a look of defiance that was almost admirable in its stubbornness.

“You say that now,” she replied, her tone light and dismissive, “but I know the truth. You’re just scared to admit how you really feel about me. It’s okay, Jacob. I’m patient. I’ll wait for you to come to your senses.”