It all started that summer.
"I've already picked a dress. Have you?" my friend Jenna asks me.
We are in a famous boutique in the city, which is a three-hour drive from Raven Coast, our town. Later tonight, we are attending a yacht party. I wasn't actually planning to buy a new dress because I still have many untouched clothes in my closet, but Jenna and her twin brother, Jace, insisted on bringing me with them.
I couldn't say no, not when Jace had the guts to steal his father's new sports car to give us a ride to the city. I know he'll be reprimanded badly later, or worse, get grounded, but I'm here to enjoy the ride while it lasts. I won't be implicated anyway.
"The sexy black one you tried on earlier looks nice, Blairy," Jace says with a boyish smile. He's sitting in the lounge with a young female attendant by his side, pouring tea into his cup.
"Thanks, but I don't feel like wearing black tonight. Maybe I'll go for something a little brighter."
"How about the beige one, Ms. Avory?" the store manager suggests with a bright smile.
"Thanks for the suggestion, but I'd like to take the lavender one, please."
The store manager happily obliged.
Summer has just started. The school year's over, which is the best thing about summer. I'll be a senior in high school next semester, which I find worth celebrating because I'll soon graduate.
Tonight's yacht party is hosted by a family friend. Well, basically, every rich family in Raven Coast is a family friend. That's how it works in high society. Connections matter the most. Social circles are determined by wealth and status in life.
And I, being part of high society, have been trained by my mother to be a great social butterfly.
Mom gives me almost everything I want, and Dad says nothing about it most of the time. Nice clothes, expensive jewelry, everything our family can afford. She's trained me to be confident, tactful, and sociable in every kind of social setting.
"It helps in building good connections," she always says.
"You are blessed with the kind of beauty that would make men crawl at your feet, and you shouldn't waste that! Look at Lucian's daughter, she's beautiful but too timid! The child is always at the corner of the room, barely talking to anyone during a party. What good does that bring? Nothing, my dear," my mother says, combing my silky light auburn hair. "A girl with a beautiful face such as yours must be confident in her own skin. Confidence adds color to a pretty face."
Growing up, I've always been meeting people, talking to kids from wealthy families my parents are acquainted with. Over the years, I've become used to it.
I enjoy the limelight, the attention. I enjoy having many friends and being adored.
My confidence rarely falters. I feel like it's been ingrained in me since I was brought into this world. It's part of who I am.
That's why it caught me off guard when someone stripped me of the crown of confidence I've always worn.
"You are dazzling, Blair!" I hear someone say the moment I step onto the big yacht.
Familiar faces surround me. Friends, acquaintances, businesspeople, wealthy families who have known me since I was a kid. I return the greetings and smiles I receive.
I've arrived with Jenna and Jace. I have many friends, but these twins are the best of them. My hand clings to Jace's arm, while Jenna walks beside me, taking a short video of the venue to post on her social media account.
I'm wearing a cross-neck lavender mini dress, and my hair is in a messy updo, with curled locks framing my face. I smile for the camera when the photographer stops in front of me and the twins.
My parents also came to attend, and it isn't hard to spot them. They're with some old business friends, and I carefully insert myself beside my mom to let them know I've arrived. I don't want my mom to nag me later for not greeting their friends.
"Good evening, Mr. Roland, Mrs. Fischer, Mr. Hanes," I say politely and sweetly.
My parents' business friends smile fondly at me, just like they always do.
I guess there's something charming about me. I've noticed it long before. When I smile at people, they can't help but smile back. I don't know if it's because of my deep dimples, my perfect smile, or my twinkling green eyes, or if it's just my bright personality.
It makes me good at persuasion because, most of the time, people can't say no to me. Mom says it's a good trait for a businesswoman, and I always take pride in it.
After the short greeting, I excuse myself and find my peers. Girls and boys my age come to surround me. Girls usually ask about which brand my dress is from, what shoes and bag I'm wearing. Boys have different questions. They ask who my date is for the night and what my plans are for the summer. They're extra sweet and always look for an opportunity to ask for some alone time with me.
"So, I heard you've broken up with Leo," says Eric, one of my suitors.
"You heard right," I reply nonchalantly.
Now everyone's talking about my recent breakup. I chuckle and slowly slip away from the group. Being the center of attention is nice, but it's a little tiring sometimes. If I don't feel like talking about something, I don't force myself. I leave.
The yacht is big, so even with many people around, there's still a quiet place somewhere.
I smile as the salty air caresses my face while I stand on the opposite side of the third deck.
Most people are on the fourth deck, so I can enjoy my solitude here for a moment. Even though I'm a social butterfly and love talking to people, I enjoy some alone time as well.
Minutes pass, and I stay there, calmly sipping my champagne when I hear footsteps.
"Finally, I've found you."
I turn around, and my smile drops, my eyes narrowing in irritation.
"I don't remember telling you we had anything to talk about, Leo."
He's my recent ex-boyfriend. I broke up with him two days ago because I found him becoming too arrogant and controlling. He had a fight with Jace just because he was jealous, even though I've always told him Jace is like a brother to me. That level of jealousy isn't healthy, and I'm not up for the drama.
Relationships are fun because of the companionship they bring, but if a boy doesn't get his act together, I leave.
"No girl deserves less than the bare minimum, especially not you, sweetheart," my mom always says, and I know she's right. She usually is.
"Please, give me another chance, Blair. I promise, I'll be better."
I can smell the strong liquor in the air. I shake my head and smile bitterly.
"I've already given you a chance, Leo. I don't like possessive boyfriends, and I'm sure you know that. You hurt Jace, and I've always told you he's like my brother. I can't forgive you for that."
He laughs. "You're choosing that bastard over your boyfriend?"
"Ex-boyfriend," I correct him.
"Just admit it!" he yells, and I jerk back.
I lean against the railing, feeling the cold steel against my back. Leo inches closer. He's tall and athletic, clearly drunk, and with the music from the party, my voice might be drowned out if I shout for help.
I might be overthinking it, but Leo looks so angry that I feel like he wouldn't hesitate to hit me. He never has before, but sometimes you don't need proof. You just have to trust your instincts. And right now, my instincts are telling me he'll hurt me.
"Just admit it, Blair! You like him, don't you? You like that boy more than me! You broke up with me because you're with him!"
"My goodness, Leo! Let's just talk when you're sober, okay?" I try to stay calm, forcing a smile, trying to persuade him.
"No! I want you to answer me now!"
He grabs my arm forcefully, and I'm suddenly alarmed. His grip is tight and painful.
"Let go of me, please, Leo. Let's talk calmly…" my voice shakes slightly.
Leo looks at me with bloodshot eyes, and I realize he's beyond reasoning. He's frustrated and has had too much to drink.
He's about to grab my other arm with his free hand when someone suddenly grabs his collar from behind, and before I know it, Leo is several feet away, lying on the deck floor.
I look at the tall, broad silhouette in the dark and continue staring as he steps into the light, two steps closer to me.
A boy—no, a grown man.
Someone who must be way older than me.
The first thing I notice is his eyes, a very dark shade of blue.
As he stands against the light, his eyes look like midnight pools—dark and grim.
I'm five foot six with heels, but I can see a big difference between our heights. He's over six feet, I'm sure of it.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice deep and husky.