That night, there's a massive party at someone's house—a typical high school bash where nearly everyone from Silver Ridge is going. It's one of those parties you hear about for weeks, the kind where people squeeze into every corner of the house and spill out into the yard, red solo cups in hand, laughing like they've got no cares in the world.
I wasn't planning on going. After the argument with my dad, parties are the last thing on my mind. But Emerald and Esmeralda wouldn't take no for an answer.
"You need this," Emerald had said, practically dragging me by the arm as we got ready. "Trust me, it's going to be fun. You can forget about everything for one night."
"Plus, you never know what'll happen," Esmeralda had added with a sly grin, wiggling her eyebrows. "High school parties are unpredictable."
By the time we pull up to the house, the party's already in full swing. The bass is so loud I can feel it vibrating through the soles of my shoes. People are everywhere—packed into the house, leaning against cars, or gathered in clusters on the front lawn. A group of jocks is playing beer pong near the garage, cheering and shouting at each toss.
The twins lead the way, effortlessly weaving through the crowd as if they belong here. I follow behind, trying to keep up while pretending I'm not completely out of place.
The house itself is huge—one of those sprawling, multi-level mansions with perfectly manicured lawns and a backyard that probably has a pool and a guest house. It's exactly the kind of place Kayla would feel at home in. Speaking of which…
I don't have to look long to find her. She's standing near the center of the living room, surrounded by her loyal minions, holding a bright red cup in her perfectly manicured hand. She's wearing an outfit that's more fit for a magazine cover than a house party—designer everything, down to her heels.
Her eyes lock on me the second I walk in, like a hawk spotting its prey. There's a smirk on her face, one that says, I'm watching you. It's the same look she's given me ever since I started school here—like she's sizing me up, waiting for me to crack.
I tear my gaze away and focus on following Emerald and Esmeralda deeper into the house. The kitchen is packed, the island covered with bottles of cheap alcohol and mixers, and the air smells like a mix of perfume, sweat, and something burning in the backyard—probably the grill or someone's bad idea of a bonfire.
"I need a drink," Emerald declares, immediately making a beeline for the counter. Esmeralda grabs two cups, handing one to me with a mischievous grin.
"Relax," she says, noticing the tension in my shoulders. "We're just here to have fun, remember?"
I nod, taking the cup but not drinking. I can still feel Kayla's eyes on me, like she's waiting for me to make a mistake so she can pounce. The music is deafening, some top 40 hit pulsing through the speakers, but it does little to drown out the unease building in my chest.
"Let's go dance!" Emerald shouts over the music, pulling both me and Esmeralda toward the makeshift dance floor in the living room. People are packed in tight, moving to the beat, the dim lighting casting shadows over their faces.
For a moment, I let myself get lost in it—just the music, the lights, and the movement. I try to ignore the fact that Kayla's here, that I can feel her judgment from across the room. I let Emerald and Esmeralda's laughter pull me back into the present, into the buzz of the party.
But it doesn't last.
As we move through the crowd, a voice cuts through the music. "Well, well, look who decided to show up."
Kayla. Of course.
I glance over to see her standing at the edge of the dance floor, her posse of perfectly styled clones flanking her. She's got that smug smile on her face again, the one that makes my skin crawl.
"Didn't think this was your scene, Heaven," she says, loud enough for everyone around to hear.
I roll my eyes and keep moving, refusing to let her get to me. But she steps closer, blocking my path. Her friends snicker behind her, enjoying the show.
"Come on, Heaven," she coos, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "Don't be shy. Join us. Or are you still too good for the rest of us?"
Emerald steps in, her eyes flashing. "Back off, Kayla."
Kayla's smirk widens. "Relax, Emerald. I'm just trying to be friendly. It's not my fault Heaven doesn't know how to have a good time."
The tension between us is thick, the music and laughter around us fading into the background. I can feel the eyes of half the party on us now, waiting to see what I'll do. Part of me wants to lash out, to wipe that smug look off her face. But I won't give her the satisfaction.
"I'm here to have fun," I say, my voice steady. "Not to deal with your drama."
Kayla raises an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Drama? Oh, Heaven, I'm just getting started."
I feel a hand on my arm, and Esmeralda is there, pulling me away. "She's not worth it," she whispers, glancing back at Kayla with a glare.
I let them guide me away, but I know this isn't over. Not by a long shot.
As we move toward the backyard, where more people are gathered around a fire pit and lounging by the pool, I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the encounter. The night is far from over, and I have a sinking feeling that Kayla is just waiting for the right moment to strike.
The night air is cool against my skin as I step away from the madness inside. The muffled music hums in the background, but out here, it feels more manageable. I lean against the railing of the deck, closing my eyes and taking another deep breath. It doesn't fix everything, but at least it helps.
"Heavy night?"
I open my eyes and find Klaus standing a few feet away, his hands shoved into his pockets. He has that half-smile on his lips, the one that always seems to say he's in on a joke no one else knows about.
"Isn't it always?" I say, my voice flat.
He chuckles, stepping closer until he's leaning against the railing beside me, looking out at the quiet yard. "Kayla's still gunning for you," he says, his tone casual, as if we're discussing the weather. "She's not going to let this go."
I roll my eyes. "Tell me something I don't know."
For a moment, neither of us speaks. The party rages behind us, but out here, it feels like a different world.
"You know," Klaus starts, his voice softer now, "you don't have to keep fighting everyone all the time."
I glance at him, frowning. "What are you talking about?"
He shrugs, still looking out at the yard. "I'm just saying... it's okay to let people in. You don't have to carry all this by yourself."
His words catch me off guard. There's something different about him tonight, something more real. It's not the usual cocky bad-boy persona he wears like a second skin. It's like, for once, he's letting me see behind the mask.
"You talk like you've been through this," I say quietly, studying his face. "What happened?"
For a second, Klaus hesitates, his gaze shifting away from mine. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost too quiet to hear. "Everyone's got their own baggage. I'm just saying... you don't have to deal with yours alone."
I wait for him to say more, to give me some insight into who he really is, but instead, the moment passes. The walls go back up, and just like that, he's Klaus again—the guy who keeps everyone at arm's length.
Still, his words linger.
"I can handle it," I insist, even though I'm starting to doubt that's true.
Klaus doesn't argue. He just looks at me, his eyes unreadable. "Maybe. But at some point, it's going to catch up with you."
Later that night, after the party, I return home. I'm walking down the hall toward my room when I hear voices coming from the living room. I stop, recognizing Josh's high-pitched, curious voice.
"Mommy," he says, "why does everyone act weird around Heaven? Why don't they talk to her?"
There's a pause, and then I hear Margaret's soft sigh. "It's complicated, Josh. Heaven... well, she's going through a lot right now."
Josh's voice is smaller, confused. "But we didn't do anything to her, right?"
"No, sweetheart," Margaret replies gently. "You didn't do anything wrong. Heaven just needs time. She's dealing with some things, and sometimes that makes her act distant."
Josh is quiet for a moment. "But I like Heaven. I don't want her to be sad."
The words twist something deep in my chest, a guilt I've been trying to ignore clawing its way to the surface. I lean against the wall, suddenly feeling like I'm intruding on a conversation I was never supposed to hear.
I swallow the lump in my throat and quickly retreat to my room, shutting the door behind me.
I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at the floor, my thoughts swirling. Kayla's words, my dad's anger, Josh's innocent questions—it all comes crashing down on me at once. The weight of it is suffocating, pressing in on all sides until I feel like I can't breathe.
Before I know it, tears are streaming down my face, hot and silent. I don't even try to stop them. I just sit there, letting it all out, feeling the exhaustion seep into my bones.
I don't know how long I sit there, crying into the darkness. But eventually, the tears stop, leaving me drained, empty.
I curl up under the blanket, pulling it tight around me, and close my eyes.
For tonight, I'm done fighting.