Chapter one - 18+ party
I saw a huge van parked at the house next to ours, the biggest house on our street. Ever since Michael Jordan and his family had moved out, the place had been empty for years, so seeing it suddenly occupied meant only one thing-I was going to have new neighbours. I leaned against the balcony railing, watching as a really hot boy, my age, stepped into view, and all I could think was, "Oh my God."
As if that wasn't enough, another boy appeared from behind the van, even hotter than the first. There was something darker about him, something meaner. He barely looked at me as he lifted boxes and carried them inside, while the other one glanced up and called out, "Hey."
My heart jumped. I rushed to my room, checked myself in the mirror, fixed my hair, and ran downstairs, already reaching for the door when my mom stopped me in my tracks. She looked me up and down and said, "And where do you think you're going dressed like that?"
I tried to sound casual as I replied, "I'm just going to say hi to our new neighbours, plus-" but she didn't let me finish. Her eyes flicked to my shorts and sports bra, and she shook her head.
She said, "No. Go back upstairs and change, or you're not going anywhere."
I groaned and protested, "Oh come on, Mom, I-" but she cut me off again, already handing me a tray of cookies.
She added, "No, Stacy. Go put on something appropriate and carry these cookies so you can welcome our nice new neighbours properly."
I muttered, "You're unbelievable," under my breath as I turned around and headed back upstairs. From my bedroom window, I checked outside again. The guy was still there, standing near the van, checking his watch.
With a frustrated sigh, I pulled on an oversized T-shirt, grabbed the cookies, and went back downstairs.I balanced the tray of cookies in my hands and walked over to my new neighbours' house, ringing the doorbell before I could overthink it. The hotter, meaner-looking one opened the door. He folded his arms, slowly scanned me from head to toe, and let out a quiet chuckle. He muttered something under his breath that I couldn't quite catch, then raised his voice and called into the house for the other guy—who I assumed was his younger brother.
"James! That girl is here to see you."
A moment later, I heard a confused voice respond from inside, asking, "That girl? What girl?"
The guy at the door smirked and added, "Oh, my brother James thinks you're hot. He's tripping, because I don't see it." He laughed to himself and walked off, grabbing a cookie as he went.
My face burned. Oh my God, did he just diss me? He was so mean—what an asshole. I stood there fuming, mentally plotting my revenge, when a few minutes later James finally appeared.
He smiled politely and said, "Hi. That was my older brother, Alexander. He can be a bit… mean." He paused, almost amused. "I actually saw him smile, which is rare, because he's usually always miserable."
I said with a death stare, He was smiling because he dissed me. I swear, I'm going to wipe that smile off his face.
James laughed lightly and said, "Whoa, chill, tiger. I just wanted to let you know that we're having a party every night this week before our parents come back. They're still in France and won't be home for a week. Are you down?"
I hesitated and replied, "I mean… okay. It depends. I'm my mother's only child and I haven't turned eighteen yet. She's very strict."
He tilted his head, studying me, and said, "You look at least nineteen. Not in a bad way. You're hot and cute."
I scoffed and answered, "At least one of you thinks so. Your brother says otherwise."
James rolled his eyes and said, "He's just a jerk. Plus, he has a weird type."
Curious, I asked, "Like?"
Without hesitation, James replied, "Freaks. Controlling. Bitchy. And nasty."
I shrugged and said, "I guess I'm not his type."
James smiled softly and said, "But you're mine—wait, not like that. I mean… you're hot, pretty, and cute."
I raised an eyebrow and asked, "Even dressed like this?"
He nodded immediately and said, "Yes, even dressed like this. You're still hot. Just come to the party, please. It won't be the same without you. You can bring your friends too."
After a moment, I gave in and said, "Okay, but I won't be drinking, smoking, or doing any weird stuff. I'm not eighteen yet."
James laughed and said, "Wait—how old are you? And oh shit, I forgot to ask for your name."finally told him my name, saying, "I'm Stacy. Stacy Mateo. And I'm seventeen."
He smiled, clearly unfazed, and replied, "Nice to meet you, Stacy Mateo. I'm James Flynn. I'm nineteen."
I nodded politely and said, "Nice to meet you too, James Flynn. I should probably go now—I'm kind of holding you up from unpacking."
He scratched the back of his head, half-laughing, and said, "No… I mean, yes. Yeah, you're right. You should probably go."
I smiled awkwardly and said, "Well, bye then, Flynn," before turning and walking away.
As I left, I saw James wave, still scratching his head, before disappearing back into the house. When I reached home, my mom was already waiting at the door. She stood there holding her mixing machine, flour dusting her apron and clothes, her sharp eyes immediately locking onto me.
She asked, "So? How are they?"
Confused, I replied, "How are who?"
She raised an eyebrow and said, "My cookies and our new neighbours?"
My mom was a baker—she owned the best bakery in Italy and loved it more than anything in the world. I was her only child, and she constantly reminded me of it in ways that made it feel more like a burden than a blessing. My dad had left when I was four. He'd left the country and broken my mom's heart, and ever since then, she seemed to pour all her anger and sorrow onto me.
Trying to sound casual, I said, "They're fine. They're actually really cool. They invited me to a party tonight."
Her expression changed instantly as she snapped, "No. You're not going until you turn eighteen."
I sighed and pleaded, "Mom, please. I only have Miley as my friend at school. I need more friends, and this is my only chance."
She didn't hesitate. "No, Stacy. You're not going. Go upstairs and study. Take your cookies from the neighbours."
Frustration burned in my chest as I snapped back, "I just hate you. I wish I had gone with Dad," before storming off.
I slammed my bedroom door, climbed onto my bed, and pulled out my diary. I opened it and continued writing. It was all about my life, about the daily events that happened, and I knew I needed to add this day too. I was still writing when I heard my mom knock on the door and speak before I could even respond.
She said softly, "Come on, Stacy. You're crying again? I just want you to be safe, okay? You know what—"
My heart jumped as I rushed to the door and asked, "I can go?"
She sighed heavily and replied, "No, honey. No matter what, you are not attending an eighteen-plus party at sixteen."
I groaned and argued, "I'm turning seventeen, so it doesn't count. Plus, I look like a nineteen-year-old."
Her voice hardened as she answered, "You are not going Stacy."
I stood there, defeated, staring at the door as the weight of it all settled in. New neighbours. New possibilities. And once again, freedom just out of reach.My mom crossed her arms and continued, saying, "Sorry not sorry. Now, back to my idea—you can invite Miley over for a sleepover."
I stared at her and replied, "What are we, like twelve? Miley probably already has plans."
She waved me off and said, "Call her up and ask."
With a sigh, I gave in and said, "Fine. You bore me."
I grabbed my phone and called Miley, my best friend, putting the call on speaker. I asked if she could come over, and she said yes almost immediately, which completely ruined my plan of sulking alone and writing all night.
My mom smiled triumphantly and said, "See? Perfect. Now you have someone to chat with."
I narrowed my eyes and asked, "Wait a minute—why are you suddenly being nice? And why do you sound impatient?"
She clapped her hands together and said, "Well, that's because I'm going on a date!"
My jaw dropped as I replied, "A date? After one, two… twelve years?"
She nodded and said, "Yes. I have to get ready. I can't be seen covered in flour, and I hope you have fun with Miley."
I rolled my eyes and said, "Yeah, sure, Mom. Just leave already."
As she headed out, she paused, looked back at me, and said, "I love you. I mean it," before leaving.
Not long after, Miley arrived and sat quietly on my bed. Loud music drifted in from next door, vibrating through the walls.
She broke the silence by asking, "Wanna do something fun?"
I looked at her and replied, "Like what?"
She smirked and said, "I don't know… fuck each other or something."
I gagged and answered, "Ew, no. I'm straight."
She laughed and said, "Me too. I'm just pulling your leg. Are you okay, Stace?"
I sighed and admitted, "No. I got invited to this lit party, but my mom doesn't want me to go."
Miley raised an eyebrow and said, "What makes you, a lonely introvert, want to go to a party?"
Without thinking, I answered, "A boy."
Her eyes widened as she exclaimed, "Oh my God—your first crush. We are going to this party."
I panicked and said, "No, I'll get into big trouble."
She leaned closer and whispered, "Relax. We'll sneak out, and we'll be back before she comes home."
I hesitated and asked, "I don't know, Mile… you sure?"
She grinned and said, "One hundred percent. You know me—I'm always on time. Let's do this."
I finally nodded and said, "Yeah."
She clapped her hands excitedly and said, "Now that's the spirit. Anything short to wear?"
I smirked and replied, "You know it."
I pulled a bag from under my bed filled with stylish clothes. I chose a shiny short dress and heels, added jewelry, and tied my hair into a ponytail. Miley wore a jumpsuit with a daring neckline, heels, and let her hair fall loose. We looked like sassy divas walking into a strip club.
When we entered the house next door, I immediately spotted James heading straight toward me.
He smiled and said, "Hi, Stacy. I'm glad you made it. You look hot, by the way."
I felt my cheeks heat up and replied, "Thanks, James. You look good too. This is Miley, my best friend. Miley, this is James—my new neighbour and friend."
James nodded politely and said, "Uh, hi, Miley. This way, please."
He walked ahead of us and led us toward the bar and pool area. Miley leaned in and whispered in my ear, "He's so hot," and all I could do was shrug and smile.
We stood at the bar counter when the bartender handed out drinks. She was wearing a bikini and looked effortlessly pretty.
Miley leaned forward and said, "Hi, can I get a whiskey, and wine for my friend here?"
The bartender smiled warmly and replied, "Yeah, sure. I'm Kate, by the way. You two look stunning."Kate handed the drinks across the counter, and without thinking I tipped the glass back and swallowed the wine like it was a shot. The burn slid down my throat far too fast, leaving heat in its wake.
Kate's eyes widened as she laughed and said, "Whoa, slow down, girl. That's wine, not scotch."
Miley leaned against the bar and shrugged, saying, "She's new to this. She's an introvert."
Kate tilted her head, studying me with curiosity before saying, "What? She's way too hot and pretty to be lonely and stuck in bed."
Miley smirked and added, "She's never had a boyfriend. Not even a real crush."
Kate's lips curled into a teasing smile as she said, "I could teach you how to be nasty, sassy, a little wild… maybe even do weird stuff."
Miley immediately shook her head and said, "No, thank you."
I surprised even myself when I smiled and said, "Yes, please. That would be an honor."
Miley's eyes snapped to me as she asked, "Why, Stace?"
I hesitated, heat creeping into my cheeks, then said softly, "Because…"
Kate let out a knowing sound and said, "Ohhh."
Miley squinted at me and said, "You like someone. So damn much. Is it James?"
I shook my head quickly and replied, "No. It's his brother."
Kate stiffened immediately and said, "Uh-uh. You fell for the wrong guy. Alex is my best friend, and he's not someone to play with. He's trouble. And no offense—but you're not his type."
Miley frowned and said, "What? How could someone that hot even have a strict type?"
Kate shrugged and said, "He's just… different."
I blinked and asked quietly, "Miley… is James hot?"
Miley didn't even hesitate as she said, "Totally. He's a full-on bombshell."
Kate laughed under her breath and said, "Well guess what?"
Miley leaned forward and asked, "What?"
I swallowed and said, "Alex is ten times hotter."
Miley gasped and said, "Really? Oh my God, I need to see him."
My nerves suddenly caught up with me, and I said, "Kate, I need to use the washroom."
Kate shrugged and said, "I honestly don't know where it is. I'm still new to this house too."
Miley waved her hand and said, "Just go inside and open doors until you find it. So—about Alex, where is he?"
Kate rolled her eyes and said, "Probably in his room. Or the lonely zone. Or hooking up with someone."
I rolled my eyes and slipped away before my courage disappeared.
Inside the house, I moved quietly, opening doors one by one, my heart pounding louder with every step. Most rooms were empty, quiet, dim. Then I opened one door I shouldn't have.
I froze.
Alex stood near the bed, shirtless, in sweatpants, tension in every line of his body. On his bed was a naked girl but I didn't stay long enough to register details. I shut the door instantly, my pulse racing, my face burning like I'd been caught doing something forbidden.
I turned away quickly, pretending I hadn't seen anything, and rushed down the hallway until I finally found the bathroom. I locked the door, sat down, and tried to breathe. My hands shook. My thoughts spiraled.
I was about to leave when the door suddenly opened.
Alex stepped inside and shut it behind him, his presence filling the small space. His voice was low and sharp as he said, "Tell me you saw nothing."
I stared at him, startled and defensive, and said, "What are you doing in here? Can't you knock?"
His jaw tightened as he repeated, "Tell me."
My heart hammered as I said, "I saw enough to know that you are a sex toy. Someone on your bed. You. That's it."
He exhaled slowly and said, "That's enough. Don't tell anyone. Especially James."
I crossed my arms and said, "Kate already knows."
His eyes darkened as he said, "She's my best friend. She won't say anything. Neither will you. Just keep your mouth shut, okay?"
I lifted my chin and asked, "And what's in it for me?"
His gaze dropped to my lips for just a second—long enough to make my breath hitch—before he looked away.
The tension hung heavy between us, unspoken, dangerous, and far from over.