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  Oh, mother of irony.

  The girl that mistreated Peter, a former orphan, wanted to talk about how we can improve the lives of orphans. Irony was a bitch, and it slapped Charlotte in the face harsher and more painful than reality would. She would be the pure personification of that word.

  So, standing backstage, looking through the curtains at Charlotte preparing for the presentation in front of the entire student body, I couldn’t help but feel a rush of thrill as if I was about to board a roller coaster. I occasionally looked around to see if anybody was suspecting anything. When I felt someone touched me, I almost jumped and whipped my head back so fast I probably sprained my neck in the process.

  I glared at Wes when I realized it was him all along and hit his shoulder lightly. “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked.

  “I think the question is, princess, what do you think you’re doing.” His smug expression sent butterflies through my veins, and my skin tingled where he had touched me. Guilt flooded my veins as my face turned crimson.

  “The usual. Ruining Charlotte’s everyday, mundane life.” I gestured to the stage as she went on her introduction. Wesley only nodded as we both started to tune into what she was currently talking about.

  “And this year, we, the student council, have a plan of raising money for this charity event, and the money raised will go solely to the orphanage to better the children’s lives. In case you’re still doubtful of this event, let me now show you what exactly life for the children is like inside the orphanage. Hopefully, after this video, you will be convinced to help reshape the future of these children.” Charlotte stepped backward from the microphone and clicked a button on a remote, playing the next slide. The video that I had taken down began to play, and Charlotte’s face paled almost instantly when she recognized what exactly was happening on screen.

  The whole student body grew silent as Charlotte rushed to the laptop hidden at the back of the stage. She tried to switch it off, but the video kept on playing, regardless, and Charlotte’s expression only grew more and more frustrated by the second. I turned behind and reached out for Peter’s hand, nodding at him as he smiled and bravely stepped on stage.

  “Hi,” he began softly at first as he looked toward my direction. I nodded at him, and he flashed a toothy grin at me before focusing on the crowd once more. Over the past few days, the both of us had bonded more as brother and sister, as well as friends. When I explained my plan to Peter, he agreed without a moment’s worth of hesitation. “You might recognize me from the video. My name is Peter, and I am eight years old. Charlotte Brooke often volunteers at the orphanage and this, what you’re seeing in the video, is what happens almost every time she is around. I hope everyone here today will finally learn to help us, children, in defending ourselves against such people.” Peter stepped away from the microphone and was beginning to walk back when he suddenly stopped and turned back to the center of the stage. “Thank you,” he mumbled and quickly ran toward me.

  “Good job, pipsqueak.” I ruffled his hair slightly as he beamed brightly at me. “You did great.”

  “Let’s go have some ice cream, yeah? As a reward.” Wesley smiled at him from behind me as Peter’s face lit up. Nodding enthusiastically, Peter reached up and grabbed Wesley’s outreached hand. Both of them made their way out of the auditorium.

  “I don’t know what happened. I just…” I could hear Charlotte’s voice crying over the curtain that separated the both of us, and I immediately felt my stomach churn in disgust.

  “It’s okay. I’ll find out who framed you. The video was heavily edited and will definitely leave some traces.” Blake tried to calm the hysterical Charlotte, and I clenched my fists tightly. Not wanting to listen to their conversation for another second, I turned on my heel.

  You’re not getting away so easily, Charlotte Brooke.

  Chapter 9

  I lived my life by three simple golden rules.

  1. Respect everyone who respects me.

  2. Help when I know I can.

  3. Love everyone equally, no matter their gender, race, religion, or sexual orientation.

  Of course, I followed my golden life rules every single day. And these rules applied best of all to Charlotte Brooke. The girl had respected me, or at the very least, ignored my presence and stayed out of my life so that we never had to cross paths outside of the student council when I was a still a member. Due to that fact, I did not see fit to respect her in return.

  Everyone in school avoided her like the plague after the incident during the assembly period. Charlotte was called in for questioning by the principal, as well as Peter via an email to my father. Peter, my lovely little brother, didn’t rat me out when my father and the principal—my uncle—had asked about his involvement in the mysterious change of the presentation slides, thankfully. Instead, he was laughing like a mad man when he told me about Charlotte’s punishment for mistreating the children of the orphanage.

  Ah, I loved that boy right away.

  As punishment, Charlotte received a whole week of in-school suspension, a whole week of detention after the week of suspension, and she had to help out in the cafeteria during lunch break for an entire month. This was priceless. It made all the trouble I had to go through absolutely worth it. I finally got my temporary happily-after. And so did Peter at long last.

  The poor boy did not talk much during his first few days staying with us, and I could only assume it was because he wasn’t used to the attention he had received. My dad had always wanted a son to take over the family business since I had made it clear that I wanted to find my own path, but obviously, he was only stuck with me as his only child. Peter was like a golden ball of sunshine for him. My dad showered Peter with endless gifts and attention, but Peter hardly even gave a hoot to him. He focused his attention solely on me, and I can’t believe I am admitting this, but I liked it. I liked being an older sister, and I liked helping people who needed the help. Guess a bad apple wasn’t necessarily bad to the core but only bruised on the outside. Peter’s reaction to both my father and I, luckily, only grew warmer and warmer as the days passed. And soon, we became best friends. Of course, when Wesley came over, he would try to convince Peter that he was his favorite, but that little troublemaker had never quite succeeded in changing Peter’s mind.

  Peter opened up to me about why he was always sent back to the orphanage, and when he told me the whole story, my heart shattered for him. He was a scarred boy. His past had broken him in so many ways. The couples who tried to adopt Peter had never really given him the attention he truly needed. They never took the time to understand him and his past. They would try to act as if Peter was nothing but an adopted child and not family. Obviously, Peter never opened up to them, and they would return him to the orphanage, thinking he was depressed. The only depressing thing was that those couples couldn’t give Peter the family that he truly needed, and yet they dared to put the blame on the poor boy.

  For everyone that I held dear to my heart, life was filled with nothing but sunshine and rainbows, unfortunately for Blake and Charlotte.

  And I was hoping it would stay that way for days to come.

  ***

  I took Peter’s hand and tugged him toward the neighborhood park. The poor kid had played so many computer games that he even got bored of it. I thought no one ever gets bored of games, and yet I had a living breathing specimen. My father pampered him so much that it was nearly overbearing for Peter.

  “How do you even know that he even wanted to go out?” Wesley shoved both of his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and I laughed.

  “’Cause he is bored of video games. I thought guys were never bored of games.” I pointed out, laughing at Wesley while Peter scoffed.

  “Yeah, we do. When we play too much,” Peter grumbled and pulled his hand out of mine, walking over to my other side to hold on to Wesley’s hand.

  “See! I told you that he likes me better. High-five, little man,” Wesley practical
ly shouted in my face with pure joy. I scowled when my traitorous little brother high-fived Wesley.

  “I’m his sister, not you.” Snapping, I crossed my arms over my chest and turned my head away from Wesley.

  “Aww, come on. Don’t be like that.” Wesley put his free arm around my shoulder and hoisted Peter up with the other.

  “Look at that, Roger. What a cute little family.” An old lady walked past us and whispered to her husband. She wasn’t exactly speaking at a soft volume, though, so every word could be heard clear as day.

  “We’re not—” I began to say, but Wesley smoothly cut me off.

  “Thanks, ma’am. Today’s our anniversary as husband and wife. Isn’t my wife ever so lovely?” Wesley winked at me and placed a kiss on my cheek. I gritted my teeth in annoyance as Peter held back a laugh.

  “Oh yes, she is. Such a lovely young couple,” the old lady mumbled more to herself than to Wesley, her hand still in her husband’s as he beamed brightly at her, love shining from his eyes. That, however, didn’t mean that I wasn’t pissed at Wesley anymore.

  “What was that?” I hissed, pulling out of his semi-embrace.

  “I was giving the old lady what she wanted to see. Would you deny the poor old woman her last wish?”

  “She isn’t dying yet, you butthole.” I shoved him slightly as Wesley laughed out loud.

  “Oh loosen up, Avery. Laugh a little.” He winked, draping his arm back on my shoulder, and a smile unknowingly crept on my face. “Plus, we are all dying. Just at different rates.”

  That smile didn’t last for much longer, though. His arm fell off my shoulder the moment a couple stepped in front of us and into our view. Standing in front of me with her arms folded across her chest was none other than the queen of hell, Charlotte Brooke, and her twat of a boyfriend, Blake Ryder.

  “I knew it. You were the one that framed me! How could you? Are you really that desperate for Blake back?” She burst into hysterics and made a step that hinted she wanted to charge at me, but luckily, Blake held her back.

  “Charlotte,” Blake calmly said.

  Ignoring her boyfriend, she lashed out at me once more. “You’re the real slut in Crescent Grove! Changing boyfriends as if they were nothing but clothes! What? Targeting Wesley Jerald now when only days ago you were with his brother?” Her face grew smug when she noticed Peter in Wesley’s arms. “And you, the orphan boy. Her family will dump you like last week’s cheesecake; faster than any couple that ever tried adopting you! They are rich folk, Peter. You are nothing but a fool, boy! Nothing!”

  Wesley’s jaw tightened, and he placed Peter on the ground and stepped forward as if he was about to throw away all his morals, ready to punch that bitch in the face. Then again, he wouldn’t be throwing away his morals since Charlotte wasn’t exactly a lady, but I stopped him anyway. I placed a hand on his chest and held him back. He didn’t try to push through, but his stern look was still on Charlotte, watching her every move.

  “Charlotte!” Blake’s breathing came out in short haggard breaths, obviously trying to control his anger. “Don’t make a fool of yourself because of someone so insignificant,” Blake harshly whispered to Charlotte, but I heard every word crystal clear as if they were meant for me instead.

  I watched, with my mind still in shock, as Charlotte collected herself, tugged her jacket in place, and stomped off to the opposite direction with Blake following her. None of that actually registered well in my mind, though. The few words that echoed through my whole body were what Blake had just said.

  Don’t make a fool of yourself because of someone so insignificant.

  Chapter 10

  There was a party that night. Before I went home from school, Winnie asked me if I wanted to go with her and Summer, but I refused. The last party I went to was a disaster, and I wasn’t planning on showing my face in another party ever again.

  Clubs? Okay.

  Bars? Okay.

  Parties? Not okay.

  I had a bad experience with parties ever since my seventeenth birthday party, so that definitely meant that I was not showing up at a party anytime soon after that. In fact, I doubted I would even throw an eighteenth birthday party. What if it would be a repeat of last year? This time, however, instead of my boyfriend being stolen, it would be my best friends? I had already lost one best friend and many other fake friends in the process. I doubted I could take losing another best friend again.

  “Get up.” Wesley dumped a bag on my stomach all of a sudden, making me cringe and shoot up almost instantaneously.

  “What is your problem?” I winced, pushing the shopping bags off my body and onto the carpeted floor.

  “I can’t stand seeing you stay at home and weep like some weakling any longer.”

  “I’m not weeping.”

  I was sure he heard what I just said, but he did not reply. “So today, you’ll be going to the party no matter what. Ryan Smith is the one hosting it, and I sure as hell am not missing it. I heard that his parties were legendary.” Wesley’s expression stayed neutral even as I scowled at him and sat up.

  “Then go to the party. No one is stopping you,” I grumbled, grabbing my pillow and burying my face into it.

  “You love parties—”

  “Loved parties.”

  “And you will be going to this one too. Come on, Ava. One, just one. Then I won’t ever bother you about parties ever again.”

  I peeked at Wesley. His face remained expressionless, but his eyes were pleading.

  Damn it.

  “Fine,” I grumbled, grabbed the bags, and headed toward the bathroom. “But you do know that Ryan Smith is Blake’s best friend, right? That will mean that Blake is going to be there as well as Charlotte.” I hissed out her name with as much venom as possible.

  “Make it quick, unicorn! I don’t like to be late.” Wesley’s voiced held bucket-loads of what victory would sound like, and I flipped him the bird without looking back.

  Just making this decision alone, I could already tell that I was going to regret agreeing to go to this party. Big time.

  I quickly slipped into the dress that Wesley got me and looked at myself in the mirror. The dress wasn’t bad, but I wouldn’t say it was my type too. Maybe it would’ve been if I was the old Avery. With a butt-short skirt and skin-tight design, the dress was insanely uncomfortable. The top of the dress, though, had a lovely black lace design. Grinning, I picked up a pair of scissors from near the basin, stripped off the dress, and carefully snipped it from where the end of my rib cage would be. Satisfied with the finished product, I slipped on the now–crop top, and strutted out of the bathroom in search for a pair of black ripped jeans. After slipping the jeans on, along with a pair of black high tops Converse, I realized that Wesley was spread lazily across my bed with my phone in his hands.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I snapped, reaching out, and easily snatched my phone out of his hands.

  “You have a very nice figure.” He winked at me and nodded toward my phone. When I looked at the screen, I scowled. He was scrolling through my phone gallery before I emerged from the bathroom. In the picture, probably one of the first few, were Blake and me two years back. I was still wearing my short and tight-fitting cheerleader uniform with my hair up in a high ponytail. Blake’s arms were wrapped around my waist as he pulled me in for a side hug. This was most likely taken during one of the in-school competitive games. Why I still had the picture on my phone, that I did not know.

  Fuming with rage at the memory that came flooding back, I pressed the screen quickly and deleted the picture permanently from my phone. That was apparently the only picture of the both of us left on my phone, and I wasn’t quite sure why I left that one particular picture if I had already deleted everything and burnt down all our printed photos.

  “Don’t go through my phone,” I mumbled, throwing it back on my bed before heading toward my old dressing table. I swiped on a plum lip gloss, ran my hands through my lavender hair, and went b
ack to my bed to grab my phone. “I thought we were in a rush?” I raised an eyebrow when I noticed Wesley cuddling with my pillow.

  “Give me five seconds, woman.”

  “Do not call me woman,” I snapped, made my way over to him, pulled him up by his ear, and made my way out of my room with him howling in pain right behind me.

  ***

  “You’re right, I guess. Ryan’s parties are insane,” I muttered as I took in the view. The huge house was already lit up with multi-strobe lights, and insane teenagers were already dancing to the thumping music, which I could already hear way too clearly even when I was standing right across the street. Wesley was cupping his ear, but I pulled his hand, and his face contorted in the funniest way, showing anger, frustration, pain, and amusement.

  “They never listen to me,” he mumbled to himself, but I had caught it easily. As we started making our way toward the party, the music only grew louder, and I could already feel my feet thumping along with the music.

  “I’m going to go get a drink. You want anything?” Wesley turned to face me, and I nodded.

  “Just a can of Coke. I don’t want to get too drunk tonight since you’ll most likely be drinking.”

  Wesley scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t need you to bring me home. I’ll be having company tonight most likely.” With his last word hanging in the air, he winked at me before strutting off to God knows where.

  “Asshole,” I scoffed and turned away.

  A crowd of sweaty teenage bodies rubbed against each other on the dance floor, and I squeezed my way past them, elbowing some in the process. Finally reaching the stairs, I turned my head to make sure no one was following me before I quickly made my way up.

  Ryan Smith, Blake’s best friend, was nothing but an absolute pain in the butt for me. Ever since Blake and I broke up, he had been hitting on me nonstop until I came back to school with a head of wild purple hair. He had totally forgotten the bro code and blatantly checked me out even when Blake was around. He thought I was an easy bait and had been a pestering fly for so long, thinking that I would have gone with his “wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am” attitude. Of course, I was in a terrible condition at that time, but I didn’t give in and actually slept with him if you dirty freaks were wondering.