I let out a frustrated groan and climb off him as my head spins. I get on my feet and have to stand still for a few moments before being able to move forward. I pull the door open and the first thing I notice is the stickiness beneath my feet.

  I hold back a gag and slip my feet into a pair of flip flops before trudging out into the house.

  “Shit,” I breathe, taking it all in. In the dead of night with too much alcohol pulsing through me, this place didn’t look quite so bad. Now, as hungover as humanly possible with the brightness of the sun shining on every tiny little thing, it’s clear as day that I had dramatically misjudged the situation.

  This place is a fucking mess. There’s cake slathered on every available surface, the couches are destroyed, there are cigarette burns on the walls, and not to mention, an extremely foul smell coming from the bathroom that I refuse to check.

  Noah was the one who decided this party was a good idea, so it’s now his responsibility to clean that shit up. I’ll be more than happy to help with everything else though. I guess the question is the possibility of getting Tully to pitch in too. I have a feeling she isn’t going to clamber out of her bed until the sun is pissing off the people on the other side of the world.

  The phone begins screeching again, reminding me why the hell I would do something as stupid as remove myself off a guy like Noah Cage. It was honestly the most absurd decision I’ve ever made, especially considering the way my head has spun ever since I stood up.

  I start searching around for the phone, kicking red cups and chunks of cake out of my way as I go. I follow the sound and eventually find a phone under the dining table in a metallic purple case, lighting up like the Fourth of July.

  “Damn it,” I groan, realizing I’m going to have to get down on my hands and knees to get the fucker.

  I make my way down to the ground feeling like I just celebrated my eightieth rather than my eighteenth and my knee instantly lands in something squishy. “Gross,” I whine.

  I channel my inner Swifty and ‘Shake it Off’ before reaching under the table. After stretching a little further than what’s acceptable in my state and nearly falling flat on my face, my fingers curl around the purple phone. I hardly have it in front of my face before I silence the stupid thing and focus on working out who the hell it belongs to, though there’s something strangely familiar about it.

  My question is answered no two seconds later when I flip the phone over in my hands and take in the massive ‘ALYSSA’ printed across the back in silver cursive letters. Ahhhh, that’s why it’s familiar; I’ve already studied this phone before.

  My natural instinct has my thumb swiping over the screen, attempting to unlock it when I remember it’s not mine and I have no right to even be touching it, other than to put it in a safe place.

  But then…what if she’s heard from Rivers again?

  I look down at the phone and see it asking for a passcode. Shit. No, Henley, put the phone down on the table and back the fuck away. It’s not yours. You have absolutely no right to invade Alyssa’s privacy like that. Though, it’s not like I have the number to call for someone to come and get it. I’ll find that kind of information on the phone.

  Shit. My priorities are fucked up.

  What if Rivers is in some kind of trouble and he’s been leaning on Alyssa? Yep, that’s the deciding factor. Feeling a little happier with my decision, I look back down at the screen and try to remember what the code was.

  It was 4 something, something, 7.

  Damn it. 4…hmmmm. Maybe there was a 2 in there somewhere.

  I think back to the moment Alyssa came to us in the cafeteria. I close my eyes and picture every moment of it. The way she fumbled with her phone, the way Noah demanded the passcode, the way she gawked at him.

  4827.

  Fuck, yeah. How the hell did I remember that?

  I instantly put the code in and grin to myself like some kind of proud detective as the phone unlocks. Though, maybe detective is the wrong word. This seems a little more on the criminal side of things.

  I really shouldn’t be doing this but now with the phone unlocked, I find myself unable to stop. My finger instantly finds the messages icon and my eyes start darting over the names. There are messages from the girls at school, her mom, some guy at school who’s not even close to being in her league, you know if you consider the fact that she was with Rivers. That’s got to mean something, right?

  I start scrolling and by now, the meaning of right and wrong is completely lost on me.

  Her mom wanted to remind her to study for her chemistry test, her friend Sara wanted to know if she’d arrived at last night’s party, Daniel from school was letting her know all the dirty things he wanted to do to her, while Rivers…there was nothing new there.

  I start giving up hope of finding out anything on Rivers when a notification comes through on Alyssa’s Facebook Messenger app. Ahhhhh, of course. People message through Facebook all the time.

  I find the app and open it and right there for the world to see is Rivers’ name with a message received from him just yesterday.

  I scoot up onto the dining table, as let’s face it, the couch is an absolute mess, and I get busy. I scroll up as far as it will go and get stuck reading through all the messages from when they were dating.

  I scroll past all that shit and find the good stuff from the past three weeks.

  Alyssa – Wanna get dinner tonight?

  Alyssa – Hello? What’s going on?

  Alyssa – Babe?

  There’s a response from him about a week following the car accident.

  Rivers – Sorry, it’s been a shit week. What’s going on?

  Alyssa – Have you been getting my texts?

  Rivers – Yes and no. It’s hard to explain. I’ve been busy.

  Alyssa – Well, I don’t know if you know, but a video went out of Henley getting jumped by Monica and everyone is saying that you sent the blast.

  Rivers – What the fuck are you talking about? I didn’t send anything.

  Wait. What?

  My eyes widen and I find myself reading through the messages faster and faster. He couldn’t be serious, is he? Maybe he’s just trying to save his own ass. We were so fucking sure that he sent it. Could we have been wrong all this time?

  Rivers – Is she ok? She would have taken that hard. Did Noah figure out who did it?

  Alyssa – You haven’t talked to any of them yet?

  Rivers – Answer the fucking question.

  Alyssa – Geez! You’re moody today. Where are you? Why don’t you come around and we’ll work this shit out. And don’t get snappy at me, it’s not like I know how she’s doing. That girl is a closed fucking book and absolutely terrifying. Besides, as if she’s going to tell me what’s going on in that fucked up head of hers.

  Rivers – Don’t fucking talk about her like that. She’s twice the woman you’ll ever be. Why do they think it was me?

  Alyssa – I guess that’s a ‘no’ for coming around!

  Alyssa – The video was emailed from your school account and well, you kind of fucked off. No one has seen you since the crash. It’s a little coincidental, don’t you think?

  Rivers – What fucking school account? I’ve never used a school email in my life.

  My reading and scrolling gets even faster as my heart starts to race. All this fucking time I’ve had the shits with him. Something is screaming at me that we’ve got it all wrong and what Rivers is saying his absolute truth in these messages.

  Alyssa – Sure you have. It’s the one attached to your student ID. I got mine on my first day. Principal Evans said the students use them all the time.

  Rivers – Do I look like I use a fucking student account?

  Shit, he’s right. How could we have not considered that before. Hell, I don’t think any of us have used our student accounts before.

  The messages stop for a few days and then three days later, at three in the morning, the next message from Rivers has my mind swirling with possibilities.

  Rivers – I’ve been up all fucking night thinking about this. It was you, wasn’t it?

  Alyssa – What the fuck are you talking about? Do you have any idea what time it is? I was sleeping.

  Rivers – You sent that fucking video.

  Alyssa – Excuse me? Are you nuts? I don’t have a death wish.

  Rivers – No one in that fucking school has ever used that network, yet you show up and have the fucking principal making you think everyone lives by it. You told me yourself, you’re good with computers and you bitched about Henley all the time.

  Rivers – You got your hands on that video and sent it from my account, didn’t you?

  Alyssa – I didn’t do it. I swear, it wasn’t me.

  Rivers – You’re a fucking goner.

  Rivers – When they find out, you better fucking run.

  What the fuck?

  My thumb continues to scroll and I hate that it won’t go any further. I don’t fucking believe it. Rivers never sent the blast. It was Alyssa, at least, Rivers thinks it was Alyssa.

  That doesn’t make sense though. She has no reason to try to hurt me like that. I saved her from getting trampled at the races and I’ve been the voice of reason when Tully has wanted to tear her to shreds. I’m a fucking angel to that girl.

  I go over the messages again and again just to make sure I read it right. I mean, I have one hell of a nasty hangover and it’s very possible that I’m jumbling around the words, but nope, after my third read through, I’m certain that I’ve read it right.

  Alyssa did it. She sent out the blast and I’m going to prove it. Don’t ask me how because I’ve got no fucking clue, but I won’t stop until I’ve got the truth out of her. How dare she humiliate me like that? That video was my lowest point. It showed me at the worst possible moment of my life where my every last shred of dignity was stripped from me.

  And because of her, that video is still doing the rounds. It’s been uploaded to YouTube for the world to see and students are constantly bringing it up. You know, generally behind my back because they’re all too chicken shit to say anything to my face.

  It kills me knowing that it’s out there but there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

  I drop the phone down into my lap feeling completely deflated. How is it possible for this video to still bother me so much?

  My mind goes back over every single time I’ve spoken with Alyssa, trying to work out where I went wrong. I mean, yeah, I’m generally a bitch to everyone, but I reigned it in for her. Now, if she sent out a video trying to humiliate Tully, that would make sense. Tully has scowled at her every chance she got, not to mention the guy Alyssa was dating is in love with Tully and not her. That would give someone enough ammunition to tear another apart, but me? Nope. Doesn’t make sense.

  I mean, where the hell is Rivers when you need him? I feel like he’s the guy centered around all my mind-boggling questions right now, yet every time something comes up where he might just be able to shed a little light on the situation, he’s never around.

  This is killing me and what’s making it worse is the intense need within to get my ass over to Alyssa’s place and knock her the fuck out. If it’s true and she did do this, then Rivers was right, she better run because no one is going to get away with trying to bring me down like that.

  I guess I’m lucky enough that I was able to come out on top as always. Though, the Henley that I used to be, she would have run away crying. I’ve always been strong, but I’ve never been strong enough to face down something like that. Maybe that’s what happens when a guy like Noah barges his way into a woman’s life and makes her feel like anything is possible.

  A crash is heard down the hallway and I crane my neck around the corner, trying to see what’s going on, though it doesn’t take long to figure out and realize which twin it was. “WHAT THE FUCK AM I WEARING?” Noah roars loud enough to be heard all the way over in Broken Hill.

  I slap a hand over my mouth, desperately trying to hold in a laugh, but Tully doesn’t have the same reservations. A loud hyena laugh comes tearing from her room and I guess I was wrong; she’s apparently rising a lot sooner than I had thought.

  I never thought anything good could come from my boyfriend catching himself in a bright pink thong, but I was wrong again as everything that was clouding my mind with Alyssa has just disappeared. Well for now, at least.

  I jump down from the dining table and hurry down to Noah’s room. The fact that my head is pounding is temporarily forgotten as the thought of seeing Noah’s reaction is far too exciting.

  I walk into Noah’s room to find him butt naked, one hand holding his junk while the other holds up the pink thong, dangling from his finger. He scowls as I grin in his doorway. “If I find out that Aiden put me in this fucking thing, he’s dead.”

  “I hate to break it to you, Princess, but you put yourself into that thing and then danced around in it for hours. You loved it.”

  “Bullshit,” he says, horrified.

  “Check your phone,” I laugh, watching as he flings the thong across the room, right into the trash can, never to be seen again. “I’m sure someone would have sent you the footage by now.”

  He lets out a groan as he turns his back on me and pulls on a pair of sweatpants, bypassing his underwear. I smother a laugh as I notice a slight red mark across the back of his hips where the man-thong dug into his skin during the night.

  “What?” Noah grumbles, looking back over his shoulder and taking in the amusement on my face.

  I shake my head. “Nothing,” I tell him, walking forward and crushing my face into his chest as his arms wrap around me. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like shit,” he murmurs.

  “Yeah, well that will happen when you jump out of a cake with a joint and give me a lap dance in front of hundreds of people.”

  “Fuck off,” he says, straightening in my arms. “I didn’t do that.”

  “Like I said,” I grin. “Check your phone.”

  “Shit.”

  An hour later, we sit around the dining table, contemplating cleaning up the mess as we work on putting something into our stomachs. It’s not that easy though, Tully feels queasy, Noah has a headache, and the need to know the truth about the video has made me lose my appetite.

  As I nibble on a dry piece of toast, I show Tully and Noah the messages on Alyssa’s Facebook and we work out a plan. With the three of us out for the count right now and a house that needs to be scrubbed clean before their parents get home tomorrow afternoon, we realize that paying Alyssa a little visit today isn’t in the cards. Besides, it’s five in the afternoon and the thought of curling up in Noah’s bed and watching a movie in the dark seems too good to pass up on. You know, that’s after we get a bit of the cleaning out of the way.

  Geez, wouldn’t it be nice to be one of the rich kids in Broken Hill who can just hire a cleaner after one of their outrageous parties?

  We finish off our meal and spend about an hour dragging our feet around the house. We manage to get the kitchen, living room, and dining areas tidied, before calling it quits. There’s still a shitload to do, but if I have to pick up one more red Solo cup of the floor, my head is going to explode. I mean, the constant up, down, up, down is easily going to be the end of me.

  Before I know it, Noah’s fast asleep on his bed with me curled up onto his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around me, almost using me as some kind of security blanket. Tully lays across the foot of the bed, her eyes locked on the television screen, flicking through all the options on Netflix.

  I don’t think she’s really in the mood to watch it but just needs something to do. Usually, at times like this, she would have curled up with Rivers on the couch, both of them not speaking but silently being in one another’s company, whether or not they’d spent the day fighting.

  Watching her now, I know she misses him more than ever and can’t understand why he’s not around. It’s hurting her and because of that, I want to tear Rivers to shreds. But then I remember that he might be my brother…or half-brother. Hell, it could just be a coincidence and my real mom could just share the same last name.

  How the hell does one go from being an only child for years to discovering two half siblings within a few months of each other?

  Not wanting to spend what’s left of my afternoon watching Tully flick through Netflix, I snuggle deeper into Noah’s side and close my eyes, hoping all my problems will magically disappear by the time I wake in the morning.

  Chapter 10

  I speed down the street, feeling like the baddest bitch in town as my yellow Supra purrs like a beast. It’s been a massive weekend and to be honest, I think I’m still a little hungover.

  It’s first thing on Monday morning and I’m actually quite thankful that the weekend is over. It was huge, like maybe a little too huge for me to keep up with.

  Nothing happened on Saturday night. Noah kept sleeping until the early hours of Sunday morning while I drifted in and out of sleep to find Tully immersed in some ‘Vikings’ show on Netflix. Apparently, there’s some dude who’s as sexy as hell, but I haven’t really given her a proper chance to tell me all about it yet, though, I’m sure she will.

  On Sunday, we scrubbed until our fingers bled and I’ve never been so relieved when the last trash bag got thrown into the garbage can outside. It was like this wave of happiness came over me and I collapsed down onto the couch, which also needed a good scrub. The house smelled beautiful afterward and I’ve never felt quite so accomplished before. If only it was my own home that I’d cleaned like that. My bedroom could probably use a good clean; maybe Frog’s bowl as well.

  Poor Frog, I’ve hardly spent much time with the little thing. He’s probably missing me, though I doubt it. He’s a goldfish. He probably prefers it when I’m not there as when I’m not home, Aria stays away from my bedroom, and when I am home, she’s right there beside Frog, poking her fingers into his water, wondering what it feels like to pet a fish.