Hannah Mitchell was just 17 years old when her life was sent in a downward spiral. Her parents are killed in a horrific accident leaving her and her older brother Liam, to face the world together with the help of friends.
As life moves on, Hannah c...
"You only turn twenty-three once!" Whitney calls from my bathroom as she changes her outfit for the fifth time.
"Pretty sure that stops being a saying once you turn old enough to drink legally." I sass back at her as I touch up my red lipstick in the mirror. I haven't seen much of her, let alone any of our group of friends lately. They said it's because I hang out at the clubs too much, which may be true, but it's the only thing that makes me feel normal anymore. Thankfully Whitney worked her charm and got everyone to agree to go out tonight for my birthday.
It was finally starting to feel like summer and I was thrilled to wear my new dress that's been hanging in my closet collecting dust. I smoothed the hemline of the black tulip-like skirted bottom. It skimmed just above mid thigh and I could already hear Liam complaining about it. As I smacked my lips in the mirror, I adjust the girls in the bralet-type top, pushing them up. This dress was definitely sexier than most things I wore and I hope that means a night of free drinks and even ending up spending the night in someone else's bed instead of alone in mine.
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"Hannah, that dress is Kardashian level hot." Whitney drawls as she walks back into my room. She's opted for her first choice of my closet picks, a body-con red dress that made her look supermodel worthy. Another trash boyfriend broke up with her last week and we both needed a night out. I secretly hope I can convince Curtis to spend time with her alone, they'd be great together, and let's face it, it'd make me feel less guilty for not spending much time with them.
"I know, here's hoping we meet some eye candy tonight!" I flash a wicked smile as I toss her a mini bottle of vodka from my stash under my bed. She looks at it as she catches it and I see her decide against asking me about it. Instead she twists the cap and raises hers to mine in a cheerful pre-party celebration.
"I think Max will be there." Whitney raises her brows after cringing at the aftertaste of the burn of the vodka.
He has been out of town the last couple weeks, his grandmother died and he spent some time clearing out her house in Ohio. The house was quieter without him here, but it made my stomach uneasy to think of being drunk around him. Everyone knew of my childhood crush on Max the past ten years. Everyone except him, that is. If he knew, he was an actor deserving of an Oscar.
"Stop that, Whit. Even if he is, he'll probably be with that leggy redhead he's been bringing around lately. I'm his little sister, remember?" I roll my eyes, trying not to let it show how much it actually affects me.
Whitney scoffs at my remarks, in her mind she's already planned Max and I's wedding and named herself the godmother of our three future children. Seeing the ilk Max brings back to our house, I know I'll never be his type. It doesn't mean that what I hear throughout the night doesn't sting. It does. Despite me knowing it'll never happen, I can't seem to turn off my feelings for him. I nervously grab another mini bottle from under my mattress while Whitney is focused on her make up, and quickly down it.
