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I was unbelievably annoyed to say the least.

The second I pulled up to our house — after circling it a thousand times to find a place to park my car — I knew from the pumping base coming from inside, teenagers lingering on the front lawn with plastic cups full of god knows what, my older brother was throwing a party.

Just by walking through the threshold I could tell it was one only for juniors and seniors. And knowing my brother who's the golden boy of Ocean View High, he wanted a big blow out for the start of his last year in school before heading to college.

Most of the male population who make up the junior and senior class are friends, which is why our home seems to be packed to the brim with copious amounts of testosterone, a girl hanging on the arm of one every now and then.

Leave it up to Noah to take advantage of our parents jetting off to Hawaii for their wedding anniversary and completely trash the house. It honestly looked like a tornado had torn through here and the night wasn't even over with...

Parties aren't necessarily my scene. My comfort zone is in the back of the class, maintaining perfect grades with one friend, and simultaneously hiding behind a camera. So, sticking around wasn't something I planned on doing.

It took me too long to navigate through the sweaty and drunk bodies to find the kitchen, but once I made it I could see Noah and his friends situated in the living room from here, all laughing at something.

I suppose if I wanted to be apart of their popular group I could. Noah had invited me to many of their outings, and one time I made myself go, but I felt so out of place it was pathetic. Ever since I kept to my small little bubble, and for me, that was enough.

Luckily for me there weren't as many people in the kitchen, allowing me to bumble around with no problem, having no worries of running into a belligerent drunk.

Feeling my stomach grumble at the sight of cheetos in a bowl I reach my down to grab a hand full, very well planning to retreat up to my room.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you not to eat or drink at a party?"

Wavy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes float into my line of vision, pearly whites on show as his lips tilt up in a teasing smile.

Owen Moore. The surfer casanova of our high school, soon to be graduating with my brother, and there isn't a girl I don't know who doesn't think he's too pretty for his own good.

"Actually, I've never heard that before, but good to know." I drop the chips into the trash can, brushing the orange dust off my fingers.

Sure, I've seen Owen around school before, and even at my house every now and then when he hangs out with my brother, but we've never once spoken.

He quirks a brow, pointing a finger at me, "You're Noah Baxter's sister, right?"

"In the flesh." I reply, leaning my hip against the counter.

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