Brothers of Paradise Series

I hope not. Not if my plan is to work, anyway.

“You never straighten your hair. It looks good.”

I unplug the iron and look at myself in the mirror. My hair is really, really long when the waves are straightened. My legs are on full display and I’d put on a pair of white sneakers. Heels are still beyond me.

“I do look pretty good.”

She laughs and comes up behind me. With her spiky hair and glossed lips, she looks like a cute pixie. Jamie has never followed the rules, of fashion or otherwise.

“You do. Now, we stick together at this party, right?”

“Yeah. And we’re not going to be home late.”

“And no accepting drinks from strangers.”

We nod at each other in the mirror. The senior parties at Paradise Shores are legendary. I’ve never been interested in going-mostly because I know I wouldn’t really fit in. My last name gives me certain cred in these circles-thanks to my brothers’ actions before me-but I wasn’t the person people wanted at parties, usually.

“Then let’s go.”

I didn’t lie to Jamie about my reasons, either. I do want to see what the parties are like, and I’m tired of sitting at home in the evenings, pen in hand. But more than that, I want to stop being seen as someone’s little sister. In the eyes of everyone… yes. But particularly in Hayden’s eyes

Jamie’s mom-who has always been cooler than my parents-drops us off outside of Turner’s and tells us to have fun and call her if we need her. I open my mouth to tell Jamie how lucky she is, but she just rolls her eyes at me.

“I know, I know,” she says.

“She’s just so cool.”

“Let’s go, dork.”

We shouldn’t have been nervous-no one checks us by the door. The bass is so loud it can be heard a mile away. Jamie grabs my hand and pulls me into Turner’s kitchen. Guys in board shorts are standing around the keg, laughing loudly as someone attempts to do a keg stand. I don’t recognize any of them. How many guests had Turner invited?

I pour myself a glass and raise it high with Jamie.

“To staying out late,” I say.

She grins. “To being where we’re not supposed to be.”

“Let’s go have a look around.”

“You’ve been here before, right?”

“Once, for a thing with our parents.”

“Show the way.”

We pass two teenagers making out so furiously against a wall that the painting above slips and hangs crookedly. It looks terrible-all tongues and teeth. Was that what they had done at parties like this? My brothers?

Hayden?

“Ew,” Jamie whispers in my ear. “Get a room.”

Turner’s living room is as massive as I remember. An L-shaped sofa stands in the middle, wrapped around an expensive-looking coffee table. Empty cans of beer are stacked in the fireplace.

My eyes find the occupants of the couch right away.

Parker, his arms moving animatedly as he speaks to a brunette, Turner next to him. I can tell he’s drunk even from this distance.

Hayden sits next to him.

He’s tucked a cigarette behind his ear and his arm is draped over the back of the couch, behind a blonde girl with a deep-necked dress.

Blair Davids.

Parker spots us first. He flies up from his spot on the couch mid-sentence. It would have been comical, if his friends didn’t all fall quiet. Ten heads all turn my way.

I try out a little wave. “Umm, hey.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to have fun.”

Parker shakes his head as if to clear it. “Do Mom and Dad know you’re here?”Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Yeah, I called them beforehand to inform them of our underage drinking. Don’t worry, I mentioned you too.”

“You did what?”

Jamie chuckles. “Honestly, Parker, don’t believe everything you hear.”

His bloodshot eyes flick to her. “Stay out of this, Moraine.”

“Bite me.”

I roll my eyes at them both. “There’s no reason why I can’t be here, Parker.”

“Because I say so, that’s why.” I can see the decision in his eyes-it’s already made: he’s going to send me home. I can’t bear it, not in front of his friends. In front of Hayden.

“You partied when you were my age.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m gonna drive you home.”

Behind him, Hayden extricates himself from Blair’s tentacle-like arm. He puts a hand on Parker’s shoulder, dark eyes meeting mine. For the first time, I can’t decipher what I see in them.

“I’m driving her home,” Parker says.

“You’ve had too much to drink.”

“Fuck. Right. Well, I’ll call a cab then.”