It takes a lot of persuasion to get Aunt Abbie's permission to go to the party. She lets me go, but on the condition that I'll be back before midnight and avoid drinking excessively.

At 6pm, Blaire arrives at my house in her mother's car. Sporting a dangerous look, she wears a leather jacket with black ripped jeans and combat boots. Scarlet red hair, smokey eye shadows and a pale complexion, she even wears colored contact lenses that make her hazelnut eyes glow with flecks of gold.

Her appearance literally screams with that mess-with-me-and-you-will-die vibe.

I'm going with a white top and a black pleated skirt, which she insists I should buy during our shopping trip. When I had attempted to wear something that would go below the knees, it set her off like a bomb and she nagged at me like how a mother would.

Now that I'm looking at myself in the mirror, I can't help but agree that my outfit shows my legs off nicely. Even the makeup that Blaire has applied to my face brings out the light in my blue eyes.

I don't look like myself.

I look...alive.

Given Blaire's bad-girl appearance, Aunt Abbie is naturally cautious of her at first, but once she gets friendly with little Judy and swings her around playfully, my aunt relaxes. She's now more than thrilled to see me hanging out with a new friend.

"Have fun, girls. Don't be home too late."

Blaire gives her a salute and Judy, who's standing by her side, imitates her. "You can count on me, Mrs Dale."

Aunt Abbie chuckles and watches us leave. Taylor's house is a mere fifteen minutes' drive away from mine and in one of the wealthier streets in town. By the time we arrive, the party is already in full swing.

We head inside and I doubt my decision to come. The music is blasting throughout the house and it's hurting my ears. Dozens of people are dancing and swaying their bodies to the beat. Couples are blatantly making out in the corners and couches with no ounce of shame. If you look through the windows, there's a pool in the huge backyard where a cluster of guys and girls are currently engaged in a game of chicken fight.

I wince at the scene before me. My feet shuffle backwards and my eyes search for a safe zone to retreat to, but Blaire halts my plans. She pulls me to the kitchen, where we find a stash of booze sitting on the island counter. Opening a beer can, she throws her head back and takes a mouthful.

She swallows hard and holds out her drink to me. "Want some?"

I lean closer, and the smell throws me off. With a slight shake of my head, I reject her offer. "No thanks. Not a fan."

Blaire shrugs nonchalantly. "Angel Riley. I feel like a criminal being around you. Although, a rather smoking hot one at that. All I'm missing is a gun strapped to my thigh like the Black Widow."

I frown. "Who's that?"

Her jaw drops. "Oh my god." She startles me by grabbing my shoulders. "You're telling me you don't know the Black Widow?"

Confused, I shake my head and she huffs. "Okay, you've some serious catching up to do, sis."

A couple latching onto each other at their hands and mouths walk right past us. They bump into my shoulder by accident, but that isn't enough to separate them. I stagger a little and Blaire steadies me. "Hey! Watch where you are going!" She yells at them, before turning back to me in concern. "You alright?"

"Yeah."

She releases me. "I guess you were never a party girl in the past, too, right?"

I scan the chaos around us and wrinkle my nose. "I suppose not."

"I'm not surprised." She finishes her beer and reaches for another one. Her eyes scan across the room casually, before they land on something that scares her.

"Shit," she panics, abandoning her drink instantly. "Incoming at two o'clock." She hunches forward to hide herself behind my body frame, but I doubt it works, since I'm smaller than her. Her eyes dart around for an exit hysterically—the back door. "We've to run. Ian's heading this way. Let's go!"

My heart rate picks up. If Ian is here, Kyle might be here.

And I want to talk to him.

A surge of determination wells up within me. "Kyle," I say. "I need to speak to him."

"No, you don't!" She tries to pull me away, but I resist. "Or at least, not now!"

"But you were the one who told me to—"

"I know what I've said, but this is really not a good time for you to abandon me!"

"But I'm not abandoning you! All I'm asking is for us not to leave yet."

As we struggle with each other, a voice cuts in. "Blaire?"

We go still, our gazes slowly moving towards the entrance of the kitchen, where Ian stands with a confused expression on his face. The moment he takes a step towards us, Blaire releases my arm and flees through the back door, disappearing into the mass of people.

She leaves us behind and we exchange silent looks. He gives me an awkward wave. "Hey, Riley. Nice seeing you again, but I gotta—you know..." He jabs a finger in the direction where Blaire is last seen and lets out a heavy sigh.

Blaire's constant avoidance of him isn't a long-term solution for the both of them. Or for their families. "It's fine," I smile at him in sympathy. "You should talk to her."

Flashing me an apologetic smile, he leaves me alone in a room full of strangers. Awkwardness fills me as I stand idly, not knowing what I should do. Pushing myself off the island counter, I venture into the massive living room and weave through the swaying bodies. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, searching through the crowd carefully to locate Kyle. Along the way, I bump into a couple of classmates who greet me drunkenly, but I simply smile and move away from them quickly.

When I can't locate Kyle, I stay at the back of the room, wondering if I should just give up, until something hits my mind.

Wait. I'm carrying a phone, aren't I? It'll make things easier for me if I were to call him instead.

I shake my head at myself, imagining how funny I would be if people knew that I'm not used to owning a phone. I pull it out of my pocket and search for his name. As I dial his number, my eyes wander aimlessly across the room as I wait for him to pick up. To my greatest dismay, the ringing goes on and on, draining my hope away.

Until something catches my attention.

It's Kyle himself. The guy that I'm desperately looking for. He clambers down the stairs and I'm able to go to him instinctively when I notice a pouting Carly trailing closely behind him. They don't notice me and he stalks right out of the house without speaking to anyone.

I take seconds to realize that my phone is still calling him. I end the call quickly and shove it back into my pocket. Seeing them together, something strange and hot stirs in my chest—jealousy.

What were they doing together?