06 | GET A GRIP

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get a grip

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I AWOKE TO a pestering tapping on my left shoulder. The sensation made me want to backhand whoever it was, and my eyes flew open.

"Why the fuck are you touching me?" I screwed my eyes shut once more, feeling the beginning of a headache coming on.

Go away, I internally yelled at the sensation of pain.

"Because we're here," Giselle stated, and I cracked open one eye, staring into the green tinted honey pots that were hers.

She smiled softly and ran a hand through my hair, her expression both understanding and apologetic.

I almost felt bad for cursing at her, but she didn't seem to care because she had already left my side.

She left the car door open wide for me, and I cracked my stale joints as I rose from my position in Isaiah's car. A Porsche, while aesthetically pleasing, was not good for back seat sleeping.

Everyone had already exited the vehicle, and I scrambled to shut the door open before walking towards Tristan.

My eyes were then graced with the breathtaking vision of an enormous beach house. It was larger than my own, and well on its way to being as big as Rosie's.

I couldn't place my finger on the girl's name, but she had money.

Celebrity type money.

That was the Cove for you, a place for the excessively wealthy with paper to spend and a lifetime to do it.

Rosie sniffed, her blue eyes surveying the property.

"How adorable," she said snobbishly.

Even if it was bigger than her own she would've said that. She would say anything to downplay anyone whose success matched or exceeded that of her own-or her family's, rather.

Tristan pushed the door bell, turning around to give us all a wary glance.

This girl could've been a psycho, and then we were all fucked at the hands of Ezekiel Liu.

I saw it now, splattered on the cover of every newspaper, magazine, and social media outlet that mattered.

Six wealthy teenagers murdered in cold blood while on vacation.

Except maybe they'd use a more catchy headline than that, I don't know, I wasn't into journalism.

A dark skinned girl opened the door, with large braids falling down her back.

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