Ethan
"Hey, we're still going to Reagan's party, right?" Chris asks as he swallows his juice audibly, the sound grating on my nerves.
"Hmm."
"Great."
I can feel his stare, but I couldn't be bothered. A signed copy of 'The perfect son' has all my attention, and even though I respond to him every now and then, I can barely register what he's saying.
Chris suddenly grabs the book from my hand and I turn to him with a glare. He peruses absently. "The perfect son. What the hell is this?"
I return my attention to the food that has already gotten cold. I push it aside and pick up the glass of red wine instead.
Barely a minute later, Chris drops the book on the table with a click of his tongue. "I honestly don't know where you get the energy to read these books. Studying is hard enough."
"I don't expect you to get it."
"Whatever man. Come on, we have to pick up Lisa on the way."
Owen, our Butler clears the table as we leave the dining area. Chris leads the way to the west wing, striding confidently as if the house belongs to him. It does in a way and he knows every corner of the Lovett mansion like I do. He spent his childhood in this very house.
"Remind me why we're going to this party."
"Because…" he drawls dramatically, plunking down on the couch facing the floor-to-ceiling widow, "You, need a fucking break. You've been cooped up in this mansion the whole semester."
"Right. And you definitely don't need a new girl to make Alexa jealous," I retort and he smiles coyly.
"Alright, you got me there. You have to be my wingman. But don't outdress me, I need to be the only head turner in the party."
I frown, wondering if perhaps Chris was a girl in his previous life. He's been dating Lisa for an entire year and they'd had a brutal break-up two weeks ago. He never told me the reason behind the breakup, which led me to believe that it must have been something hurtful because Chris yaps a lot about everything.
I'm not in the mood to be in a house full of drunk, horny teenagers, but he's right. I need a break and maybe lousy teenagers will be a good distraction.
****
Ava
"Ava!" I can hear Lexie's cheery voice before she bursts into my room. I groan and pull a pillow over my head.
"Hey, you can't bail on me today. Come on, get up, we have to go," she pulls the covers away from my grip and I groan again, sitting up.
Lexie gasps and puts a hand over her mouth when she sees my face, then her eyebrows draw together in concern. "You really have the flu? I thought you lied to your mum to get a pass for the exams."
I roll my eyes, falling back on the bed. It has been an awful week for me. First I fail my exams, then get the flu when Reagan decides to throw this big party that everyone's going except me and my flu. Not to mention my mum's disappointment. Awful doesn't even cut it.
Lexie lies next to me, propping herself up with her elbow to stare down at me. "You know you're still going to the party, right"
"No. I don't want to take shots with a runny nose," I whine, covering my face with my hands. I'm not the type to shy away from a party. I love getting drunk and making bad decisions and listening to my schoolmates' drunk confessions, but I'm also almost always in a good mood.
"Don't say that. Look at the bright side. Your mum feels bad for you so she'll let you off. Come on, let's get you ready."
She drags me off the bed and sits me in front of the vanity mirror. My eyes widen in horror as I get a good look at my face for the first time in three days. "Jesus!"
"Uh-huh! See why you need some alcohol to lift your moods. You look like shit."
That's about right. Everyone who knows me can tell you that I'm always put together. My wavy hair is always neat, my face always looks good, with or without make-up, I always smell nice. But right now, I look like I've been homeless for a few months. My hair looks like a bird's nest, there are dark circles under my eyes and my nose and the area around my mouth is all pink. The last time I looked this terrible was when my dad died.
Lexie urges me to the bathroom as she goes about my room, finding the perfect outfit for Reagan's party. She chats to me about Noah, her boyfriend, and how it's been hell for him since his sister's break-up with Chris Sawyer.
I keep yelling replies and half-hearted follow-ups, but I have zero interest in Alexa and Chris's love life. It's all everyone has been talking about for the past two weeks and it's starting to get annoying. It's not their first break-up and it's not like they're the first "perfect couple" to end things mysteriously.
"Not to be a hater, really, but I kinda think Alexa did it intentionally so that everyone makes a big deal of it," she comments as I get out of the bathroom, towel drying my hair.
"It's working, isn't it?"
"Yeah. It's all anyone can talk about. But aren't you curious? What could have possibly caused their break-up? They were so good together."
I roll my eyes at her and she gives me a calculative look.
"What?"
"You and Chris used to have a thing, right?"
"Jesus, Lexie! We didn't have a "thing" we didn't have anything!" I snap, which causes Lexie to smile mischievously.
"No need to get agitated, honey," she coaxes, placing her hands on my shoulders. "One day I'll get you drunk and you'll tell me everything. Every single detail."