We The Pretty Stars (Court High 4)

“K. Just let me find the guys.”

I was sure Jax was off getting wasted and the other two were getting naked somewhere, my guy friends a bunch a man-whores. I folded my arms. “You take one side?”

Royal grinned, the two of us of the same mind. He knew our friends as well as I did. He bumped my fist. “We’ll reconvene when we find them. Keep your phone on.”

I pulled it out for emphasis, shaking it as I began scouring the house. College parties were vastly overrated, and I knew since Royal, Jax, LJ, Knight, and I had been sneaking into them since we were fifteen. Even still, they put high school parties to shame, but tonight, I didn’t feel like fucking dealing with any of it. I toured the house until I found myself on a ba

lcony that no longer had anyone vomiting off it. It was cool out there, so I took a break to ease some weight off my feet and lounge on the overlook. There were about twenty frat boys down below, one of whom cannonballed off a diving board into the pool, glistening with moonlight. The guy crested the water, and it only took a squint to realize the guy who jumped was another one of my friends. LJ’s stupid ass whipped his head out of the water like a mermaid, his long blond hair slapping his back. This gave the opportunity for two more blondes to float over to him. They quickly tucked themselves tight under his arms, and I shook my head at the display. Did I know my friends or did I know my friends? Of course, he was getting naked. I thought to yell at his ass from above, but then I saw Royal down there. He waved at him, and right away, LJ left the girls and swam to the side. Royal merely exchanged a few words with him before LJ pulled himself completely out of the water. The two headed off, probably to find the other guys, but it’d take probably another hour just to do that. Jax and Knight had a way of hiding when they had a good time.

Feeling a little stressed, I decided to take a moment and center myself. I had my journal on me, always did, so I set it out on the banister. I’d got the old thing years ago, something I’d thought was really stupid at first. My counselor, Mrs. Hastings, had wanted me to “write my feelings,” but all that ended up coming out were these drawings.

The paper was lined with eyes, things that fascinated me about people. One could always see someone deep in them, no secrets, no lies. I found myself taking away only that element of people when I drew, and I actually took an art class this summer just to get better at it.

I worked on a set, a girl below capturing my attention. She sat by herself, fully clothed and drinking by the pool. I didn’t think she thought anyone saw her, just sitting to herself. I loved capturing that, the moments, people in their most raw form. I got a little ahead of myself as I worked out the details of what I could see from here, quickly losing track of time like I always did.

“Those are lovely.”

Hers were lovely, her eyes as they drifted over my shoulder to my journal. I’d seen them before, those lovely eyes of a pale blue.

“Excuse me?” I questioned, pinned in place, and the woman grinned, smelling like warm sugar when she graced my side. Gorgeous dark hair cascaded a face I’d seen before. It’d been a little while but…

“I know you.” Because I did, the woman so familiar and with no reason to be here. I mean, a college party? What the fuck? But it was like she wasn’t listening to me, her eyes on nothing but my drawings. It took her a moment before looking up at me and when she did, her smile widened. She pulled that lovely hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear.

“And I know you,” she stated, resting her arms on the banister. “From Windsor Preparatory, right? I used to volunteer over there. Worked with my sister.”

Her sister…

“Daisy.” I directed a finger, actually thinking she was my old counselor for a second, but God would that have been incorrect. From what I remembered, Mrs. Hastings was all sweater vests and knee-length skirts. This woman was wearing a skirt, but definitely not knee length. It stopped at the midpoint of her thighs, hugging them before displaying a pert navel. She also wore a leather jacket, covering a top that barely covered her midriff.

“That’s right. Paige,” she said, light and airy just like her sister’s voice. Mrs. Hastings was always so soft-spoken. I recalled our sessions bringing me comfort because of that. She’d allowed me to say and be myself, and I nodded, folding my hands together.

“I was only on the prep team for like a minute,” I told her, chuckling a little. I’d only joined as a favor to her sister actually. Mrs. Hastings said it’d help me, allow me to come out of my shell a little and maybe stop being so angry or something? I’d been really angry then, was angry now.

But that was neither here nor there, and something I was sure Daisy didn’t want to know about.

I moved my jaw.

“So why are you out here?” I asked, unable to help eyeing those soft-toned legs peeking out from beneath her skirt. She was fucking hot, mature, and definitely wasn’t the type to be milling around a bunch of college kids.

Bumping a bit with laughter, she folded her arms. “Bribed to chaperon.” She shrugged. “This whole thing is my cousin’s party. Classic college kid. She needed a house, and I offered up.”

“And what did you get out of the bargain?” I moved closer, and she noticed. With a smile, her eyes drifted away.

“Knowing where she is, I guess,” she said, standing up. I noticed, too, she put a little distance between us. “She can be trouble. I wanted to make sure she was safe. What better way to ensure that than being around for her?”

Something not one person in my life would do for me. Well, besides my guy friends. No mature people in my life outside of them.

My dad was the ultimate heavy, and I couldn’t remember the last time voices weren’t raised in my house. I could never do right by him and probably never would. My dad was just as damaged as me, though someone would have to get him drunk to admit that. Where he took his pain from my mother’s death out on me with words, I ran. I got into shit and was probably just as much trouble as Daisy’s cousin.

In my silence, Daisy returned to my space. I knew because I smelled that warm sugar again.

“These are so cool,” she said, really finding value in my drawings.

I lifted a shoulder. “I dabble.”

“Well, you should do more than that.”

She asked, and I let her see more, the pair of us studying my little dabblings. I liked looking at her more than observing her reactions to the work. Part of that had to do with how goddamn beautiful she was, but the rest, well, her. There was something so raw about her intrigue, genuine and thought-provoking. I must have not seen it when I’d known her before, so much more angry then.