"So the obvious one would be his ex-girlfriend, Amalia Hadid. They were the most toxic couple I'd ever seen. I don't think they ever said one nice thing about one another, in private or in person. She cheated on him a few months before he died and they broke up because of that. It was a messy parting and he said a lot of dumb fucking shit about her when they finished. She was pissed and almost failed her exams because of it and the last thing I heard, her dad went around to Deshawn's house and told him to pack it in. He threatened Deshawn and at the time we thought it was the funniest fucking thing but I'm not sure anymore. Anyway, that's Amalia." 

Taron took his other hand and enclosed it over mine that rested on his chest. His fingers were long and bony, trapping me in place. 

"Then there's Marco Arandia, the ex-best friend. In fact, the only reason that Amalia and Deshawn broke up was that she was cheating on him with Marco. I never really found out if Marco and Amalia ever became a thing after that but when Deshawn said that shit about her, he kicked off. Marco was fucking fuming and he went straight up to Deshawn and called him out. If it ever came between Marco and Deshawn, the school was divided on who to stand behind. The same happened this time until that day. Marco came over, there was pushing and punching and the n-word just slipped from the bastard's mouth. Felix was practically shunned from then on out. He and Deshawn hadn't talked since then."

Taron moved his hand from mine on his chest and cupped my cheek gently. As he rubbed soft circles under my eye, I tried my best not to twitch from his grasp. His finger trailed to my lips and he smudged my red lipstick even more than it already was.

"Then there's Ross Rivera," he murmured in my ear. The name piqued my interest but it didn't sound as though we were having a conversation about anything anymore. From the deep, breathiness of his voice, it sounded like simple spurts of words and I had to concentrate to catch the meanings. I ignored the buzz of frustration that had built up in my chest and kept my face straight, feelings at bay. 

"Ross is a big fucking softy but dodgy as hell. I don't doubt for a second that when Deshawn went to his house for a smoke in the basement, he met some other dodgy kids who'd kill anyone without a second thought." 

"Was Deshawn with Ross a lot?" I asked quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. From the way the air shifted behind me, I knew the ghost was watching. 

"Yeah, I don't know if you know this but Ross deals - drugs, I mean. He deals with everything from what I've heard. He's cheap and a good fucking laugh too, so everyone goes to him."

I didn't like how Taron swore. There was nothing wrong with swearing but it somehow didn't seem natural coming from his lips. It felt forced as if he'd sprinkled them in unnecessarily for authority.

Taron leaned in closer and closer until his hot breath fanned across my cheeks and the smell of beer was all I recognized. He blinked his eyes slowly, so drunk. 

Through his haze, he managed to finish his monologue. "But ultimately, Deshawn had argued with probably every damn kid in Zobel. He was very opinionated and didn't shut up for shit. It could have been any fucker." 

Then, he captured my lips with his and I visibly shuddered. He plunged his fingers into my hair with a groan and the music was loud in my ears as it bounced between the walls of my brain. My eyes shot open and searched frantically for Deshawn but were met with only the wall we were leaning against. 

I grabbed at his neck roughly and flipped us around so that I was leaning against the wall now. He dug his fingers into my waist, keeping me in place, while the other hand lay on the wall beside my face and caged me inside. This time when I searched for Deshawn, he noticed. Hiding in the shadows with his arms crossed, Deshawn stood up and lifted his brows. 

I wasn't sure if what he said about being able to feel what I felt was true but the look in his eyes told me it could have been. Wordlessly, Deshawn sent one strong kick to the back of Taron's legs where he crumpled to the floor in an inebriated mess of long limbs.

Seemingly unconscious, Taron lay silently on the floor. Surrounded by the pristine photographs of his friends and family, we watched the boy soundlessly. I wiped my mouth clean of his lips and huffed before heading back to the party and fishing my red lipstick from the depths of my jacket pocket

"Thanks," I said breathlessly to Deshawn who nodded. 

"Why did you bother leading him on if you were just going to push him off anyway?" He wondered as we slipped back into the crowd.

"Because he's a Zobel boy and Zobel boys are all the same. You can't get anything if you don't give back and a kiss is a sacrifice I'm willing to make." 

He whistled lowly. "I would have told you anything if you'd promised me a kiss like that." 

"No, you wouldn't have." I scoffed. "Let's go."

I was on the hunt for:

Amalia Hadid, 

Marco Arandia,

Ross Riveraʼs customers, 

Or 'every damn kid in Zobel, could have been any fucker'.