Adrenaline: A Fall Away Series Bonus Content Collection by Penelope Douglas Page A

Political Science major my mother encouraged, and Liam and I had been on the downward spiral for months.
    Okay, years.
    I held my hand and skimmed the scar on the inside of my wrist with my thumb, trying to remember what the hell made me angrier. Liam cheating on me or me staying long enough for him to do it twice.
    She leaned down, resting her elbows on the table and rubbing her eyes.
    “For Christ’s sake, do something,” she pleaded. “For the love of all of the pink shit in your closet, make a fucking move!”
    I inhaled and exhaled hard out of my nose, shaking my head.
    She was right. I knew she was right. She knew she was right. But what I couldn’t figure out as I stood there was how I could be angry and not sad. Pissed but not hurt. What the hell was wrong with me?
    I didn’t feel territorial about Liam or ready to go bawl in a stall in the ladies’ room. I wasn’t going to check my phone a zillion times tomorrow to look for apology voicemails or texts. I wasn’t sad.
    But I looked over at him and the redhead—it was a redhead last time, too—and I was damn-well angry. I squeezed my fists so hard I felt my nails dig into my palm. I’d been underestimated, forgotten, and disrespected. That pissed me off.
    I needed to be like Tate. My best friend back home. We used to be the same. Shy, timid, invisible…but one day she’d had enough, and she started to react instead of letting doubt weigh her down.
    I needed to be brave, Strong.
    Just do it , I urged myself.   Move your fucking feet, K.C.
    But when I hesitated, Nik let out a bitter laugh. “You know?” Her soft, velvety voice could only mean trouble. “Her skirt   is   super sexy. I’d have my hand up it, too.”
    My eyes bugged out, and I slammed my palm down on the table, shooting daggers at my friend.   That is it!   “You want the girl?” I asked, taunting. “Well, wait here then. I’ll get rid of her boyfriend for you.”
    Ignoring the victorious, smug smile spreading across her cherub cheeks, I threw back her untouched shot on the table and swallowed down the burn at the back of my throat from the cheap tequila.
    As I cut my way across the dance floor—lit up with the reflection of the blue, green, and red strobe lights overhead—my sparkly, black flats barely touched the floor. I was high on adrenaline.
    Screw Liam , I kept chanting in my head.   Screw Liam.   I could do this.
    I quickly smoothed my hands over my black, layered miniskirt that was tight at the waist but flared out after my hips and then ran my index finger under my bottom lip, clearing up any smeared lip gloss.
    Poser pink lip gloss.   That’s what Jaxon Trent called my make-up once.   Poser.
    Another guy who thought I was gutless.
    I pushed his words out of my head, sucked in a deep breath, and tapped my fingers against my bare thighs as I charged up to Liam’s table.
    Not fifteen minutes later the whole world came to an end.
     
    ***
     
    “I can’t believe you just did that,” Nik whispered, wide-eyed, next to me as we sat in my parked Nissan Altima.
    “I’m going to throw up,” I choked, gripping the steering wheel and chewing on my bottom lip. “What the hell was I thinking? That was a mistake.”
    “No, it wasn’t!” she burst out. “It was epic! It was awesome! You shined, K.C.”
    “And now the cops just pulled us over. That’s not awesome, Nik.”
    We were sitting next to the curb on a quiet residential street. Some homes were still lit up even though it was nearly eleven. No one, however, came outside to inspect the colorful flashing lights of the cop car behind us.
    Officer Baylor—I’d spotted his name tag—had taken my keys, my license, registration and proof of insurance, and was now back in his vehicle doing Lord-knows-what, and all I could think about was how the drop of sweat trailing down my neck was going to ruin my whole outfit. I had to look responsible. If I looked   responsible in my cute, but classy attire and high, stylish