Deleted Scene from DL

Merry Christmas all!!

Here is the original prologue from Dark Light. It takes place a year before, showcasing the relationship Gabs had with her friends, especially Jared. Enjoy!!!!

-S.L. Jennings

St. Patrick’s Day 2011

“Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!” the raucous crowd of O’Malley’s chants, pumping their fists in the air.

“Holy shit! She’s really doing it!” a random jock wearing a UCCS t-shirt yells over the roar of cheers.

“Hell yeah! That’s my girl! Your friend obviously doesn’t know who he’s dealing with,” Morgan retorts proudly.

I gulp down the giant mug of green beer, keeping my eyes on my struggling opponent, a 200+ pound rugby player. Panic is etched in his face, and as he sputters the food-colored brew all over the front of his shirt, I slam down my empty glass on the table, throwing double fists in the air in victory. The bar erupts into a chorus of rowdy praises and applauds.

“I believe you owe me fifty bucks,” I say to my deflated challenger.

“Aw, come on, sweetheart. You don’t really expect me to pay you, do you? It’s all in good fun,” he sneers. He runs his hand over his brown buzz cut nervously, clearly embarrassed.

“Hell yes, I expect you to pay! Just like you’d expect me to hold up my end of the bargain and show you my tits if I would have lost. Now pay up,” I demand holding out my palm. Buzz Cut takes in the wall of hard muscle glaring at him from behind me- my three best guy friends, Jared, James, and Miguel. Realizing that he and his buddies would have a hell of a fight on their hands if he refuses to honor our bet, he begrudgingly pulls out his wallet and hands me two twenties and a ten.

“Pleasure doing business with you. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before underestimating a- as you said- little ass girl, who’d probably get wasted off a wine cooler. Who’s the little bitch now, sweetheart?” I wink.

“Damn, man!” his friend taunts him as I turn to walk away with my winnings. “Hustled by a tiny chick! Aw, shit! You are officially lame!”

Morgan wraps her arm around my shoulders, leading me deeper into the crowd of drunken college kids, our guy friends following closely behind us. “Hey, there’s a group of hotties that would like to buy us a celebratory drink. You in?”

“Sure, let’s do it,” I smile. I turn around and slap the ten dollar bill in Jared’s hand. “Next round is on me, guys. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a free drink waiting for me!”

“Sure you haven’t had enough, Gabs?” Jared asks with an arch of his brow. Apprehension flickers in his emerald green eyes.

“I’m fine! Besides, it’s St. Patty’s Day! Isn’t the idea to get as wasted as humanly possible?”

Before Jared can respond with what would have probably been a mature, reasonable alternative, Morgan pulls me away, leading me to a table of three green-clad guys. She makes introductions, but my head is so fuzzy I forget their names as soon as she says them. Not that I really care.

“So, Gabriella, that was pretty impressive back there,” one of them says. I notice he has a light beauty mark above his lip and a great head of blonde hair. Pretty cute, definitely doable.

“Thanks. My personal goal in life is to embarrass as many douchebag jocks as I possibly can. Stick around; I’m sure another opportunity will present itself soon enough,” I quip.

Just as his friend, a tall, chocolaty Adonis, begins to ask Morgan and me what school we attend, their friend bounds up with a tray of tequila shots. Awesome. Less talking, more drinking. The guys distribute the drinks and we raise them to the sky, toasting to my notable beer-chugging skills before throwing them back. The liquor singes my throat, yet I don’t reveal any sign of discomfort. I seductively blow out my heated breath through glossy, puckered lips, aware that there are more than a few sets of eyes on me. Oooh, it burns so good.

We begin to all make small talk, and while the guys are definitely cute enough, I search the bar for a pair of dazzling green eyes and a coif of unruly chestnut hair. I finally spot Jared at the pool tables and he’s gazing back at me questioningly, worry etched in his gorgeous face. I flash him a bright smile, ensuring him that I am okay, yet his expression is still stoic. Miguel taps him, indicating that he’s up, and we reluctantly break our gaze.

“Hey guys, Gabs just had a birthday a few days ago! She’s finally nineteen!” Morgan announces. She has settled onto the Adonis’s lap and he is loving every second of it.

“Is that right?” Blondie replies. “Well, I believe that calls for another shot!”

Four tequila shots and three more mugs of green beer later, I am in my element. For most, drunkenness would consist of slovenly humiliation and immoral behaviors, which at 1am, the bar is teeming with. However, I never feel more alive, more like me than when I’ve had a few too many. All caution and inhibitions are out the window, and I am too distracted to keep up my tough girl pretense. The guys are eating out the palm of my hand, hanging on to every crude joke and suggestive anecdote. Even Blondie has consumed enough liquid courage to make his move, asking for my contact info and if I’d be interested in hanging out with him until the wee hours of the morning. I think to make him sweat, diverting my attention to the song that blares from the bar’s speakers.

“Oh shit! I love this song!” I shout over the noise. I instantly begin to sway my hips to the beat, running my hands through my long dark waves.
Blondie’s eyes are glued to my modest cleavage peeking out from my tight t-shirt and the curve of my butt accented by tight jeans.

“Hey, get your pretty ass up here!” he yells, grabbing my hand and pulling me onto the table. Never being one to back down from a challenge, I climb on and resume my sexy dance to Fall Out Boy for all of O’Malley’s to see. And I don’t hold back; I really give them a show worth talking about, letting the heavy drumbeats and guitar riffs carry me to a place where silly hang-ups and inhibitions don’t inhabit. Morgan cheers me on from below, grinding her generous backside into Adonis’s welcoming lap.

“Hey Gabs, get the hell down from there! You’ll hurt yourself!” Jared says from below. I hadn’t even noticed that he had made his way over here.

“Jared! There you are!” I squeal. I break out into song, serenading him with an air mic to my lips while whipping my wild curls from side to side.

Jared humors me for a few minutes, slightly amused at my salacious performance. “Ok, Gabs, that’s enough. Time to go, ok?”

“Alright, alright, fine,” I huff letting his hands grip me under my arms and carry me down. My head is swimming and I’m numb from the neck up. Jared is probably right; he usually is.

I feel someone pull me by the hand as I try to smooth my wild mane. “So, ready to get outta here?” It’s Blondie, and the look on his face screams pure, unadulterated lust. Seeing my little show must’ve sealed the deal for him.

“Dude, she’s not going anywhere but home,” Jared replies, pulling me away from my new suitor.

“And who the fuck are you?” Blondie spews. He stands to his feet, looking Jared up and down with alcohol-induced rage in his eyes.

Jared chuckles a bit, shaking his head at the boy band wannabe. “I am the guy who is making sure she doesn’t get taken advantage of by douchebags like you. So do yourself a favor and walk away. You don’t want these problems,” he says casually.

“Oh yeah? Well maybe I do!” Blondie loses his damn mind and shoves Jared, alerting his friends of the altercation going down that they were previously oblivious to. They jump to their feet just as Miguel and James make their way over. Morgan abandons the Adonis and stands with them.

The fuck? Now I’m sober.

“Don’t you fucking touch him!” I shout at Blondie, who actually isn’t as cute now that I’ve taken off the beer goggles. I give him a hard shove of my own, causing him to fly backwards into his friends. They push him forward onto his feet, clearly hoping to see this escalate.

“You bitch! You’re nothing but a worthless slut who probably woulda been a lousy lay anyway!” he yells, jabbing his finger in my face.

Before Blondie can even brace for my tumultuous reaction, Jared pummels him with a solid right hook, causing him to crash into the table. Empty mugs and shot glasses shatter everywhere as Blondie plummets to the ground in a pathetic pile of drunken testosterone. His friends help him onto his wobbly legs and I see that blood is dripping from his mouth. He squares his shoulders and puts his fists up, hoping to redeem himself as he sways woozily from right to left.

Jared again chuckles and waves him off. “Come on, Gabs, let’s go,” he says pulling me through the crowd. James and Miguel’s eyes stay on his friends, ensuring that they don’t make an offensive move towards us.

“That’s right! You better run, asshole! I’ll take you and your little bitch too!” I hear from behind us.

I stop in my tracks. Oh, hell no. No one insults Jared. And no one especially calls me a bitch, unless you’re Morgan, who uses it as a term of endearment. I turn on my heel and close the few feet between us in three swift strides. Blondie’s eyes grow wide with terror as he assesses the look of sheer fury on my face. Too bad he was too preoccupied or he would have seen my right cross coming straight for his eye. It was enough to send him flying backwards into his friends, knocking them all to the ground. After ensuring that Blondie wouldn’t be getting up any time soon, I spin around and join my friends who have just realized that I have gone back to finish off the bleach blonde asshat.

“Shit, Gabs, what the hell am I gonna do with you?” Jared laughs as we scramble to the car. James, our DD for the evening, slides into the driver’s seat and revs up his old Dodge Shadow.

“What are you talking about?” I feign ignorance. “I never professed to be a good girl. And besides, you know you love me just the way I am! A loud, crazy, shit-talking drunk!” I giggle.

Jared smiles his dazzling boyish grin and tightly wraps his arm around my shoulders in the backseat. “That I do, Gabs. That I do.”

It’s the last thing I hear before nuzzling into the warmth and safety of his hard chest and inhaling the scent of Irish Spring soap before passing out.