➸ Chapter One: Paper Airplanes

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Allie

I toss my head back, bouncing in delightful abandon to the pounding music. The alcohol, swirling through my veins, turns the strobe lights into a luminous watercolour. My heart is pumping so violently that it feels as though it strikes my ribs with every beat. I'm enjoying the senseless dancing, likely spurred by the copious amounts of alcohol Bree encouraged me to drink.

The dryness in my mouth prompts me to stumble to the bar. I decide it's probably time to sober up, seeing as I have a flight tomorrow. I make sure that the scandalously short dress, borrowed from Bree, stays as far down my thighs as possible as I hop onto a bar stool and hail the bartender. As usual, she's preoccupied at the other end of the bar. She's been bantering flirtatiously with some women for the entire night. After several unsuccessful attempts to get her attention, I turn around and survey the club.

The dark interior is only lit by dim lights and the music is so loud that the floor is pulsating with the bass of the song. The dance floor is filled with bodies swaying to the beat. It's practically impossible to move in here without bumping into someone. I really don't understand why Bree always goes to these places. I'm sure my mother wouldn't approve of my being in a club, while still underage. She said that it was just a media scandal waiting to happen. It's not as if I'm as a childish sixteen-year-old who has never had alcohol before. I'm twenty. I can be legally married in New York, but I can't drink.

As Bree and I came into the club, the neon sign a vivid juxtaposition against the stark sky, the bouncer barely glanced at us, as Bree assured me. I was thoroughly surprised that the bouncer hadn't heard my rising heartbeat or recognized me. The last thing I needed, the day before moving, was being splashed across the headlines. At least I wasn't Carter.

While my family wasn't gracing the front page often, my brother, Carter, and my father made the front page more often than my mother or I did. To be the next CEO of WestCoast Health would be unbearable. However, Carter has been groomed for it, he's known that he's going to take over dad's company for a while now.

As I look around the club, a man catches my eye. Maybe it's just the messy sandy blonde hair or the way he's looking at me with those luminous brown eyes that seem to shine from across the dark room, but he reminds me of someone I've been thinking about a lot lately. He stands up, heading towards me. As he gets closer, I nervously shift in my seat and study his features. From a distance, he looks like someone I used to know. But as he approaches me, I realize the kindhearted understanding in his eyes was only a product of my imagination rather than his character. His previously warm eyes look coldly lacklustre. I adjust my position on my thoroughly uncomfortable stool and prepare to submerge myself into the throng of people that populates the club. I smile tightly and angle my body towards the dance floor. As soon as my stilettos touch the floor, I feel a tap on my arm and I turn around. My best friend is behind me, looking very irritated.

"Oh, thank God." I gasp, my heart striking my ribs once again.

"Are you okay?" She asks, studying my face with a familiar concern.

I twist back around, searching for the man. When it seems that he has disappeared, I breathe a sigh of relief.

"I'm okay, probably just being paranoid."

She nods and like a switch has been flipped, the seriousness of her stare fades and I'm left with my once again bubbly best friend.

"So," She drawls, a coy smile on her face. "What are you doing?"

"What does it seem like?" I ask, a smile growing on my face.

"I'm so glad you asked." She said, clapping her hands and acting like I had gotten the right answer on a game show.

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