⚠️ Warning!!⚠️
⚠️ Contains mature content such as smut, violence, language and drug use⚠️
"Life is a cruel lottery-misfortune rains on all, while fleeting blessings tease only a few. For people like me, the darkness clings like damp rot, and any fli...
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I barely caught Michael’s soft “Oh whoa” as we stood there, but I knew he didn’t mean for me to hear it.
He was impressed, though, and I couldn’t blame him. I shot a quick frown up at my best friend his royal blue hair spiked and perfect, like he was ready to hit the town.
Except we weren’t.
Neither of us was in party mode. The long ride from the next city over had been a nightmare, leaving us both drained and looking like it. My shoulders slumped, and just as I shifted my overstuffed duffle bag, some jerk slammed into me, knocking it to the ground. My face twisted into a scowl as the guy didn’t even bother with a half-hearted “sorry.” He and his pack of buddies just glanced back, eyeing me up and down like I was some rare species they’d never seen before. I raised my hand and flipped them off, which only set them off into loud, obnoxious laughter.
Great. I made them smile.
Instant regret.
They were jocks—obvious from the purple and gold varsity jackets they wore like some sacred badge of honor. Not that their stellar manners or broad shoulders gave it away. I watched them stride up the vibrating steps of the house, the bass thumping so hard it rattled my bones. Drunk girls flashed their boobs from the second-floor windows, while the sharp scent of weed wafted up from below. A burst of cheers erupted, loud enough to rival the music, as someone lay passed out on the lawn and a couple on the porch swing went at it like they were ten seconds from screwing in front of everyone.
My eyes narrowed at the bright yellow banner flapping in the cold breeze—one side torn off the house.
Welcome home Mia,
it read. It should’ve said, Welcome back to the same shithole that hasn’t changed a bit since you left..
Two years.
Clearly not long enough.
“It makes total sense why you went crazy,” Michael teased, leaning in with a grin.
I shot him a look, and his smile widened as he nudged me playfully. Then he bent down, hoisting my heavy duffle over his shoulder like it was nothing. He gestured toward the house.
“Well, I know this isn’t the welcome-back party you were hoping for, but it’s better than a big, empty house.”
“No, it’s not,” I deadpanned.
His dark eyes crinkled as he let out a loud laugh. “Don’t be a stick in the mud, Mia. It’s a party—let’s party.”
“I want to sleep.”
“You can sleep when you’re dead. Come on.” Grabbing my upper arm, he dragged me up the steps. As we crossed the threshold, someone blew cigarette smoke right in my face. I recoiled, stumbling into Michael, and whipped around to rip into whoever it was only to freeze. A shaggy-haired blonde guy stood there, staring up at Michael in awe, completely ignoring me.
