Authors Note

Hi Everyone,

Sorry for the time it has taken for me too update, I've had exams but they have finished now. I didn't want to post a chapter I was unhappy with so I took some time to edit this chapter as well.

Well anyway here it is! The first insight of Grace's mind. I hope you enjoy the chapter, please feel free to leave a comment and if you're feeling kind a vote:)

"Don't you own anything a little less -well- controversial?" you claimed as you looked into the standing mirror, the judgment you tried so hard to cover seeped through with every word.

"Oh Soph, it's a sophomore party, I doubt the clothes you go in will be the ones you end the night in." you laughed, a deep throaty laugh. The kind of laugh that makes boys fall in love with you. " Plus that dress looks hot on you"

You were wearing red; it brought out the blue in your eyes. Red. The color of lust. The color of sex. I always envied your ability to look amazing in everything you put on. You could wear a bin bag and still manage to achieve something out of a Marc Jacobs catalogue. My own dress was black, where yours was tight; mine was loose, kind of a metaphor of our friendship.

The party started at 7, it took us over an hour to come to the agreement of arriving 10 minutes late. But by the time we arrived it was already in full force.

We looked up from the Powell's driveway in awe. "Big house" you stated, earning a nod from my slacked jaw and me.

Inside we began to thrive. Happiness elevated across the rooms. An aura of belonging floated around you. This was unusual, normally I was the one more developed in the social stance.

"Jason Fields is staring at you" it was true I could feel his eyes as if they were knives being thrown at your back.

"Don't be so ridiculous Grace, the only time me and Jason have ever spoken was in the library last week"

"Don't shoot the messenger!" I remarked, a sudden outburst that came from the jealousy within. "Oh my god, he's walking over here."

"Don't lie to me" you tilted your head; I received a sense of hurt in your voice, which suddenly disappeared when a strong, large hand arrived on your shoulder.

"Hey, it's Sophie right?"

Jason Fields was a complete stunner. His green eyes stood out to everyone, they stated a fact. I am not the sea. I am everything else in between. But the one thing that everyone knew about Jason was that he didn't date.

"Yeah, we met last week in the library"

Jason smiled and his glorious white teeth marked his territory on you. " I remember, you're kind of unforgettable ." I was stood there like a spectator in a zoo, staring at my competition for your attention. "Do you want to dance with me?"

And just like that, you were gone. It was at this moment I realized I truly needed you. Not just for survival, but also in a way that makes life worth living. As the colour of red that enveloped you faded away, the party that was once a clear orange faded into dusk.

I moved around a lot after this. But each room was the same. I got a look of recognition but was left to defend for myself. I was waiting for you, but as the clock neared midnight my Cinderella never showed.

Maya Powell's garden delivered many memories, some of hope and laughter, others of growth. One of my favourite memories was the water balloons fight from the summer before. It wasn't so much the execution of the day, but how the day made me feel. I felt alive.

But as I stood outside that night, I understood that you never feel the same way twice.

My feet took me across Maya's patio, until I stood within arms distance of the Lake House I knew from my childhood. Our childhood. I wanted to look inside, smell the sentiment that I grew up around, hear the Barbie dolls as we cut their hair. Sophie, Maya, and me. Sophie and me.

This is my excuse for opening the door and it wasn't until I heard noises of pleasure I realized that I was treading on land that was being carefully hidden from the eager eyes of Ashbourne.

I wanted to close the door. Surrender to my greed of knowing. But it was to late. My eyes had witnessed the crime of infidelity before my mind had the time to process. All I could process was flashbacks. Flashbacks of Keith with your mother when they took us to New York for a week. All I could hear was the laughter of a family may people aspired to be. All I could see was grey.

My first thought was a mix of colours that described anger. My second thought was Sophie. There on the couch that we used to play hot lava, was Keith, my best friends father and my closest ally after my own. Under him was Orla Powell, a woman known for her beauty and seduction.

Bile rose up in my throat and it wasn't until seconds later that my legs had the ability to move. It took all the happiness of my heart too turn around and vanquish the fire raising in me.

Once the door of treachery was closed I let the tears fall. It wasn't tears for Keith and his act of perfidy, but tears for Sophie Smith, the girl with sunflower hair and a pink heart. How would I tell her? The Smiths were the life and soul of Ashbourne, and I now had a secret that could break not only the town but also my best friend. I had many theories that the solid base of love and honour came from the ability to trust the person you conveyed hours of your life with. And in the future, when it came to trusting people with my life, I realised the reason I had no trust left to give was because Keith had ripped it all from my heart.

The world crashed that night.

I promised I would never leave Soph, yet I did. I walked away from the truth and from a friendship secured on trust. And as I attempted to sleep that night, I felt a part of me had been stolen and my ship of glory was beginning to be flooded with water.