Chapter 1

Olive:

Happy birthday, girly!

Kayden:

Happy 18th, Belle!

Mama:

Happy birthday, my love *heart emoji*

I snuggled with my comforter over my shoulders and half my face as I replied to the text messages. Turning eighteen wasn't that big of a deal to me. It was just like any other birthday. The only thing is, you can vote. Big whoop. Oh, and permanently damage your skin with ink without your parents' permission.

My parents had most likely gone to work. They worked at the local hospital as two of the most respected nurses. I'd wanted to follow in their footsteps since middle school and I was rushed to the hospital after an incident. Watching the nurses come and go and checking on my vitals, I saw myself doing that as a career.

My parents used to always tell me stories about what transpired in the operating room, even if that was frowned upon.

When I told them I wanted to be a nurse too, they warned me that nursing required many years of schooling. I knew one day, I'd be in the operating room watching the scene in front of me unfold and think it was all worth it.

But first, I had to face the nightmare every teenager has to face - high school. TV made it look bad from a social standpoint. If you hadn't reached ninth grade yet, you got scared of mean girls flipping their hair with their manicured fingers and mean jocks pushing you into lockers.

I was talking about the part about sitting in a chair for eight hours while a teacher talks about some boring president or a dumbass war. For eight hours. For four years.

The sun streaming through my window reminded me that I needed to get ready for school. Five minutes in and I was already dancing in my room getting dressed with airpods in as I listened to Bad Liar by Imagine Dragons.

It turned into a sing-along as I threw my pajama shirt off and changed into my white halter top. The outfit of the day consisted of my black, high-waisted jeans with holes in the knees and black sandals. I danced into the bathroom and tied my hair in french braid pigtails.

The music stopped when Olive tried to FaceTime me. When I accepted, I saw her red hair still frizzy and undone and she was still in her plain white top and her Friends sweatpants.

She was my only female friend. She may be the head cheerleader, but that didn't mean she was a bitch. She was super sweet once you got to know her.

While Zach and I watched action movies, surfed on the raging waves, and played video games for hours until our fingers cramped up, Olive and I did all the girly things together.

We'd make face masks we found online and did each other's hair in braids and floral-printed ribbons.

"Happy birthday, bestie! Birthday OOTD check."

With a cheerful chuckle, I held my phone out for the camera to pan over my outfit.

"Jean-Claude Van damn, you're fine!"

My laugh filtered into the room until she held up two sundresses, asking my opinion. One was a peach color with spaghetti-strapped sleeves that tie together on the top and the other was yellow with tiny pink flowers printed all over it. "The one on the right. Duh!"

She gave the dress a quick once over and dipped her head to the side in agreement. "I do look good in peachy pink." She gave me a wink before clarifying that we were meeting on top of the stairs.

I disconnected my airpods from my phone. Zach's present was tucked away safely on the top shelf of my closet. With the help of my stool, I brought it down and sprinted downstairs where Zach was eating Cinnamon Toast Crunch — my cereal.

His dark brown hair was in a messy do like he spent the last night tossing and turning, a tendril hanging over his forehead.

His hazel eyes, which were a mix of green and brown, focused on whatever game he was playing on his phone. He was dressed in a short-sleeved, unbuttoned button-up with his muscles prominent, a white under tee hanging loosely over his chest and torn jeans.

He had been my best friend since the day I was born. We were born on the same day within half an hour of each other and we've been joined at the hip since then. His parents have known mine since college so they even bought a house that was only a walking-distance away from us. That made it easier to come over to each other's houses and play since our parents were best friends as well.

"Happy birthday, handsome," I said sarcastically as I dropped the gift bag in front of him.

He turned his head slowly, meeting my gaze with narrowed eyes. If looks could kill, I'd be dead on the floor with daggers from his eyes at my chest.

He hated mornings. Mondays more than the rest. He chugged a mug of coffee every morning hoping it would give him the sudden burst of energy he needed to handle the boring teachers that would otherwise send him to sleep.

It was a stark contrast to my morning person behavior. Since I was a kid, I'd wake up at five and lay in bed staring at the ceiling while all I wanted to do was head over to Zach's house to play. I'd try to fall back to sleep, but I was already wide awake and stepped downstairs to watch TV.

Ignoring his glare, I skipped past him, ruffling my hand through his hair like he was my five-year-old brother to which he slapped my hand away. Cooking breakfast was the last thing I wanted to do. The lack of my favorite cereal box was an indication that Zach ate the rest of it. He wasn't looking, but I burned holes on the side of his face with a glare.

This poptart and protein shake would half to suffice. "Come on. We're gonna be late and I'm supposed to meet—"

"Has anyone ever told you you sound like a cat being strangled when you sing? Remind me to bring earmuffs next time I come over."

Lie. I sung like a Goddess. He was just jealous that he could never make it onto American Idol and I could. "I sing just fine. It's not my fault you just had to come over at six in the morning when you know it's my time to shine." I winked at him and the deadly glare from earlier came back. "And where the hell is my present?"

"You know, I actually didn't have time to pick you up a present, but I give you my love." He wore a bright smile and his fingers formed the shape of a heart. I slapped the back of his head and yelled at him to get his ass in the car.

We finally arrived at the school. Football players were passing a football from across the parking lot, the cheerleaders were standing against one of their cars as they gawked at them and some students were sitting on the steps with textbooks on their laps soaking in the fresh air as they studied. Zach waved to one of his friends that formed a cluster at the bottom of the stairs.

"See you in first period," Zach said as he climbed out of the car.

Grabbing my backpack from the back seat, I swung the door open and allowed the bright sun to kiss my bare skin. The sun was a factor in me having so much energy in the mornings. Especially during the summer and the sunny days that lingered in the fall. It was as if I ran on solar energy, much like a lot of the other citizens of Los Angeles. My eyes searched for my best friend within the sea of students.

There she was at the top of the stairs talking to her boyfriend she'd been dating since middle school, Sean Andrews. He looked handsome with his black curly hair, freckles dotting his cheeks and nose and the blue eyes that sparkled in the sunlight like a sapphire.

He wore a black leather jacket with a gray rock band t-shirt that clung to his fit physique. Sunglasses were perched on top of his head and laugh lines were accentuating his cheeks as he spoke with Olive.

I didn't hang out with him often, but the times I talked with him, he seemed funny and made her happy. That was all I cared about. She briefly glanced at her Apple watch and scanned the swarm of students. She beamed at me and waved me over.

I mentally gave myself a pat on the back when I saw how good she looked in the peach sundress I helped her pick out today. It was obvious she went to the beach this weekend by her sun-kissed skin and a slightly-concerning sunburn on her shoulder. Her red hair was done in a half-up ponytail tied by a maroon-hued ribbon and she had the most gorgeous set of emerald green eyes that stood out in the sunlight.

"Hey, Belles," she greeted me as she handed me a pink envelope with my name written in cursive. A smug smirk danced across my face as my eyes found Zach downstairs. This was what a real friend did. At least one of my friends acknowledged my birthday. "What are we gonna do to celebrate the big 1-8?"

The answer was obvious — at least it should've been to her, but, for her sake, I pretended to consider it with my finger tapping my chin. "Uhhh, how about—nothing."

"Nothing? Why the hell not?"

"Well, you and Kayden can take Zach to do whatever the hell he wants. I don't think turning eighteen is that big of a deal," I shrugged. My eyes followed the sound of laughter coming from the bottom of the stairs and I found Zach talking with his best friend, Kayden Taylors. A.K.A, the love of my life. Since the day we met on the first day of kindergarten, I had the biggest crush on him.

From an outsider's perspective, I probably looked like a chipmunk with my front teeth chewing on my bottom lip.

How do those girls in movies make lip biting look sexy?

His sandy blonde hair hung down his forehead, his ocean blue eyes that juxtaposed against his tanned skin were on his friend as he spoke and that one dimple when he smiled was a literal killer. If you didn't fall for that dimple, your heart was stone cold.

Unlike the rest of the boys at this school, he didn't sleep around or stare at every girl's breasts. He treated them with the respect his mom raised him to give.

It didn't click that I was staring at him until Olive snapped her fingers in my face. "I know exactly what we're gonna do. We're going to Derek's party tonight. And it's your eighteenth birthday! It's like it's meant to be!"

Zach wanted me to go to the party tonight because we had never spent a birthday apart and he wanted to go, but I felt a stronger urge to stay home in my safe place with Disney+ and Zac Efron. However, I'd been doing that since freshman year: playing the safe game and studying all the time.

Never did I go to a party where I knew there'd be alcohol and drugs and couples grinding against each other. I always preferred watching that shit in the movies and complaining about how stupid those people were.

How was it even possible that they were never arrested for underage drinking? Did they have neighbors with the hearing of one hundred-year-olds who weren't bothered by the music blasting throughout the neighborhood? Logic was thrown out the window when it came to writing a script, I guess.

"I don't know. You know high school parties aren't my thing." Before she could convince me otherwise, I cut her off. "My ideal Monday night consists of listening to music while doing homework and watching movies until midnight. Who even throws parties on weekdays, anyway?"

She raised her brows and threw her arms out dramatically. "The people who want a show when everyone shows up to school the next morning totally hungover. Please?"

Good point. The idea of walking into class tomorrow morning and seeing the majority of the students sporting a miserable hangover did entertain me. Picturing them puking their guts out, however, ruined that image for me.

I didn't respond, and she grabbed my wrists, bouncing on her feet. "Please, please, please, please!"

All eyes were on us. Sean, who was silently scrolling on his phone with his free arm draped over Olive's shoulder, was now stepping away from us. His head was lifted up at the sky with his hands in his pockets, acting like he didn't know us. My iconic burning glare came back for the second time today. This time, directed toward Olive's helpless boyfriend.

Zach always told me I needed to live. To be social outside of him, Olive and Kayden. I only became best friends with Olive when she agreed that high school parties were lame as hell until she warmed up to them sophomore year.

It was about time I lived a little. Plus, my parents were always working late so that saved me from the lectures I'd get. I needed to go to this party instead of moping around in the house and having mini panic attacks every time I heard the tiniest noises.

"I'm in."