CHAPTER 1

I swept my hair up into a haphazard top knot, a habitual morning ritual that felt almost robotic. It was too early to contemplate anything beyond the messy bun. The dreaded school uniform clung to my frame—the black skirt riding just above my knees, its fit both too loose and too snug. A navy-blue button-up shirt neatly tucked in, its sleeves rolled to my elbows. I stood before the expansive mirror that dominated my bedroom wall, noting my averageness. Average height, hair cascading to my lower back, eyes a subdued gray, and a smile perfected by years of braces in middle school. Not strikingly beautiful, nor the center of attention. I hadn't ventured on any real dates yet.

Skipping downstairs, I found the kitchen deserted—mom already off to work. I sipped hot coffee, nibbling on a bagel, my gaze drifting to the calendar. Only 58 more days until freedom. I swallowed two small blue pills, grabbed my keys, and headed to St. Bernford High School—a place that felt more like a labyrinth for the intellects. School mornings were a struggle; the monotony and rigidity grated on my nerves.

Navigating the bustling halls, I felt like a ghost as people jostled past, oblivious to my presence. I held my breath, weaving through the crowd, until finally exhaling as I slipped into the back of my English class. Today's lesson on Shakespear failed to capture my attention; my mind was consumed by the bombshell my mom dropped yesterday.

"He's back."

Cade Wilson. He'd been a thorn in my side since toddlerhood, three years my senior and relentless in his mission to aggravate me. Sent off to some strict, high-priced military academy during his sophomore year, courtesy of his parents' tough love approach. Before that, he'd been wild—partying, disappearing for days, and sinking into the wrong crowds.

As the day dragged on, each class a tedious blur, I found myself sitting in my car after school, staring out the window without focus. As the day dragged on, each class a tedious blur, I found myself sitting in my car after school, staring out the window without focus. My mom told me that tonight we have to go have dinner with his family. His mother and mine have been best friends since they were kids. They lived on the same block back then. Lucky for me that means I see him way more than I would have liked. The impending dinner with Cade's family loomed like a dark cloud. My mom's insistence on maintaining her lifelong friendship with Cade's mother meant I couldn't escape his presence.

Turning the key, I started the car and took the scenic route home, stalling for time. Parking slowly in the driveway, I noticed my mom's absence—she must still be at work. Perhaps this was my chance to concoct a convincing excuse to skip dinner.

After rushing upstairs, I shed my clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the ice-cold water send shivers across my skin. A cold shower always calmed me down, leaving me feeling refreshed. Reluctantly, I finally coaxed myself out and began to get ready. I slid into a white set of panties and a matching bra, the water dripping from me onto the marble floor.

As I exited the bathroom, I heard the door open—probably just my mom, I thought. But in my room stood a tall figure near my desk, eyes fixed on the scattered college paperwork. Instinctively, a blood-curdling scream escaped me, and I hurled the closest thing at hand—a pillow. It smacked him square in the face before falling to the floor.

The tall, muscular figure turned, wide-eyed, as I took in his messy brown hair and piercing light eyes scanning my body.

Cade.

There, in my room, stood Cade. I froze as his gaze lingered on me. It suddenly dawned on me that I was only in my bra and underwear. Panicking, I swiftly turned and dashed back into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Leaning against the cold marble, I struggled to catch my breath, trying to calm my racing heart.

"No, not now," I whispered to myself, fighting off the familiar signs of a panic attack that threatened to overwhelm me. The soft knock on the bathroom door made me flinch, but I closed my eyes, steadying myself against the fear gripping my chest. Cade was still outside, waiting.

"Vien," his deep, husky voice broke the tense silence from the other side of the door. I remained silent, hoping he would leave. A string of curses muttered under his breath followed, and then heavy footsteps receded down the hall. I sat on the cold floor for what felt like an eternity, unsure if my legs could support me if I stood.

"Vien!" My mom's voice suddenly rang through the house.

"What!?" I yelled back, hastily pulling on a hoodie before slipping out of the bathroom.

"Hurry! Get ready, we leave in 20 minutes!" Her urgency sent a jolt of panic through me. I didn't want to be anywhere near him. I threw on some faded jeans and headed downstairs, finding my mom bustling around the kitchen. She turned to face me, her expression stern.

My mom had been a single parent, pregnant at 19 after my father had abandoned her. I resembled her closely—blond hair, nondescript colored eyes, dimples, and high cheekbones.

She was in her late thirties, with faint wrinkles around her eyes, but otherwise, she was flawless. She had always been there for me, my best friend who helped me through the panic attacks and anxiety. I hated seeing her worry about me, but I knew it came from a place of deep care. That's what mothers do—they worry and love you unconditionally.

"You can't go like that," she insisted, gesturing disapprovingly at my outfit. She looked immaculate in her pencil skirt and floral blouse from work.

"Why not?" I protested, frowning. The last thing I wanted was to dress up and attend some fancy dinner.

"It's a formal dinner at a high-end restaurant. Most of the Wilson family will be there," she explained firmly, guiding me back up the stairs. There was no arguing with her, was there?

She was in her late thirties, with faint wrinkles around her eyes, but otherwise, she was flawless. She had always

"You can't go like that," she insisted, gesturing disapprovingly at my outfit. She looked immaculate in her pencil skirt and floral blouse from work.

"Why not?" I protested, frowning. The last thing I wanted was to dress up and attend some fancy dinner.

"It's a formal dinner at a high-end restaurant. Most of the Wilson family will be there," she explained firmly, guiding me back up the stairs. There was no arguing with her, was there?

"Which dress?" I asked softly, and my mom gave me a warm smile.

"The black one from that wedding we went to," she replied. I groaned inwardly but headed to my room obediently. Slipping into the dress and matching heels, I emerged reluctantly.

"You look beautiful, Vee," she complimented with a bright smile. I returned the smile, not wanting to escalate any tension. If it were up to me, I'd have chosen jeans. After all, the Voss family was practically our own. Why dress up for a dinner welcoming back Cade?

"I get it from my mom," I joked lightly. She chuckled as we got into her car and drove off to our destination.

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