CHAPTER ONE
ALLIE
*This book contains sensitive subject matter. If you are easily triggered or have experienced serious trauma, this book may not be for you. Not recommended for persons under 18 years of age.
After hours of primping, I’m finally ready for a fun-filled night out with my friends. The intense preparation for my first classes at UCLA has been taxing. The long summer break didn’t prepare me for the quick immersion into my new life away from home, and my brain still hasn’t caught up with the excessive expectations of adulthood.
The very second I stepped into my minimalistic, two-bedroom dorm room—after gathering my class schedule—memories of high school filtered in. Throughout my senior year, the incessant one-sided arguments with my textbooks, demanding them to telepathically put their information into my brain, had proven to be a fruitless strategy. Following the nonsensical grovelling, I still had a barren wasteland of knowledge up top, and large, thick paperweights decorating the corner of my desk. Studying was never something that came easily for me, and obviously, my undisciplined ways will have to change if I’m going to keep up with my new responsibilities.
Needless to say, I’m beyond thrilled that I can take the night off to relax in the company of my closest friends—before life takes over and I have to become serious about my future.
The excitement to show off my new pixie cut—which is a drastic change from my previous long, blonde waves—is bubbling beneath my skin. I feel like a million bucks. I can’t wait to exchange the headache formed from forced maturity for one induced by the thumping bass of a frat party. It’s a much-needed distraction from my new reality, and will be a limited indulgence in the days to come.
I startle at the sound of someone knocking on my door. The quick raps indicate the excitement on the other side. After giving myself the once-over, I stride in its direction to open it. Both men standing on the other side give me an exaggerated double-take, then check my room number with mock confusion.
“I’m sorry,” Ryan’s gravelly voice teases, “but our friend Allie told us to meet her at this address…is she here?”
“Oh, stop it, you big jerk,” I quip, punching him lightly on the arm. “Seriously, though. You like?” I ask hopefully.
He leans in, placing his hand beside his mouth as if he’s about to tell me a secret, “Don’t tell the old you, but I think I like Allie 2.0 better...she’s smokin’ hot.” He pulls away with an exaggerated wink and adds, “In fact, if you weren’t like my annoying little sister, I’d be trying to take advantage of you right now.”
“Aww, that’s so sweet,” I retort sarcastically. “And if you weren’t like my irritating older brother…I’d still shoot you down.”
“Ouch. You break my heart, Allie.” Ryan stumbles back, dramatically clasping his hands to his chest, and a large grin pulls at my mouth in amusement.
“Oh, you can handle it, you big baby.”
“Are you two children done bickering?” Scott interjects, faking impatience. “We have a party to get to.”
“C’mon, you know you love it when I pick at Ryan. Don’t even try to deny it,” I patronize. “But, yeah, let’s get going.” After locking my door, I turn to follow the boys down a long corridor. At the end of the hall, elevators wait to lead us to the exit. Once we’re outside, we walk across campus to meet up with our friend, Charlotte.
I feel so tiny walking between these tall, muscular guys. My tiny frame only reaches just under Scott’s shoulder at a meagre five foot three inches—approximately a foot shorter than the towering men flanking me.
With Ryan’s piercing blue eyes and calculated mess of hair, and Scott’s buzzed head and five o’clock shadow, the two are mouthwatering for sure. The appreciative leers of passing girls reinforce this obvious truth. The first time I saw them, butterflies fluttered in my stomach. But as time passed, they became like annoyingly lovable older brothers to me, instead, and their friendship became more important to me.
I’ve known this insane duo since senior year. After Charlotte and I knocked our school bully out of the top of her hierarchy, Ryan and Scott applauded our perfectly executed dethroning and decided we were “cool enough” to hang out with them. We’ve been friends ever since.
Once we reach Charlotte’s room, I glimpse a beautiful brown-haired girl through the broad shoulders in front of me. She greets us with a Jessica Alba smile and for the first time in my life, a little insecurity creeps in. She’s absolutely gorgeous. She has long, auburn waves flowing down her back, perfect delicate features, and a tall, curvy body that rivals any movie star. I know the guys are going to be completely enthralled with her before she even speaks.
She introduces herself as Hannah, Charlotte’s new roommate. And following the rest of the introductions, Ryan seems to have already staked his claim. He’s not subtle in his obvious attraction, and in true Ryan fashion, he uses his natural charm to draw her in.
Despite our constant teasing, he really is a great guy. She would be very lucky to have him fawning over her. And from what I can see, she’d make a great addition to our foursome. She’s funny, smart, and down-to-earth, and she seems to fit in great. I look forward to seeing what happens between these two.
Shortly after meeting Hannah, my mini firecracker of a friend, Charlotte, rounds the corner. She’s wearing a cute, white peasant shirt and a pair of dark-wash cutoffs. As she walks toward us, she expertly pulls her chestnut hair up into a top knot. With her preparation complete, the five of us ready ourselves to leave.
The walk to the Beta house—where the party’s being held—goes by quickly. And within minutes, we enter the vibrating atmosphere surrounding its aged structure. The stately, two-storey house sits on a small parcel of land with minimal landscaping beautifying its greenery. Its tall exterior needs a good cleaning and boasts the stereotypical perception of its tenants.
The rumble of bass pulses in my chest as we near the man tending the front door. His square shoulders fill the frame to its extents as he monitors those trying to enter. Once the proper password is spoken, we’re given a choice of colourful Jell-O shots. The cool, blue jelly slides down easily. I lick my lips to savour the sweet taste. My eyes linger just past the entrance to take in the flashing lights and dancing bodies. Then, when everyone has downed their rite of passage, we’re granted entry.
The five of us enter and look around the house’s spacious interior. The air in the room is thick with the odour of alcohol and other indistinguishable scents. The smell definitely leaves something to be desired, but Charlotte’s contagious personality feeds everyone’s excitement, and we all soon share the high of her enthusiasm. After downing a quick drink, we rhythmically move to the thump of the music—enjoying our night of freedom—and step onto the makeshift dance floor in the centre of the party.
It’s not long before the pull of appreciative stares leads two drunken spectators into the centre of our group. They attempt to grind against our backsides, taking turns between us girls. Their hands grasp our waists, pulling us toward them. The stench of beer lingers on their breath, and the smell of sweat permeates between us, turning my stomach with repulsion. Ryan and Scott sense our unease and step in to save us the trouble of dealing with them ourselves. I feel sorry for the next women who will have to endure their sleaziness and pray that they stay unconfrontational when told to back off.
Ryan lithely moves next to Hannah protectively. Their obvious attraction guides them closer until they’re dancing together. Their grinding is consensual and I find myself needing to look away and leave them to their flirting.
Scott settles between Charlotte and me, making us laugh with his exaggerated moves—always the comedian—and I feel my stress slowly evaporating away. My body loosens and my mind frees, forgetting about the life waiting for me outside of these four walls.
After about an hour of releasing my tension, I sense a warmth closing in from behind. It separates itself from the other heated bodies with its mere presence. A searing hand rests at the small of my back when lips brush against my right ear, intimately asking, “Will you dance with me?”
His deep voice resonates in a cool shiver down my body. I look over my shoulder to find his mouth only inches from mine. My stomach flutters with excitement. His inviting lips curl into a hopeful grin as he waits for my response. I turn toward him, boldly placing my hands on his chest—allowing my actions to speak for themselves. Despite the directness of my answer, his eyes still silently seek permission as he places his hands cautiously on my hips.
His kind green eyes peer down to mine from his tall stature. He towers over me by at least nine or ten inches. His smile never falters as we move together. I shimmy closer when I feel more comfortable in the fact he’s not like the other two men who tried to force themselves into my personal space. I’m not normally a forward person, but my hands slide up the hard rounds of his arms onto his wide shoulders appreciatively. There’s something about him that makes me trust him and lures me in.
We’ve somehow manoeuvred ourselves away from my friends. Song after song, he keeps me lost in his gaze. The jade of his eyes sparkles under the party lights hung around the room and I find myself standing on my toes to get closer to him—the shot and one drink lowering my inhibitions slightly. He pauses in surprise, then meets me halfway, pressing his soft lips gently against mine.
The kiss is slow…sweet…but slowly reveals the secret of what could be. My lips tingle from his careful attention. The ease of our movements is surprisingly tantalizing as he works over my mouth. He pulls back slightly and I miss the feel of him already. My mind reels from what I initiated with this handsome stranger, though I don’t have time to dwell on it for long. His smooth voice cuts through the clamour of voices and music, “By the way, my name’s Nick,” he says with an adorable smile.
“Allyson, but my friends call me Allie.
He watches me for a moment before he speaks up. “I’d like to see you again, Allie. Would you be willing to give me your number?”
I suddenly feel like I’m in high school again. A giddiness builds in my stomach, forcibly rolling out of my mouth with a quick, “Yeah. Of course. I’d like that.”
After he hands me his phone, I enter my digits and hand it back. I watch him type out a message to someone, then my phone dings with a message alert. My mouth curls when I realize he’s my mystery sender and I look at what he’s written.
Nick: You’re beautiful.
My eyes return to his and see the sincerity in his statement. I find myself looking forward to seeing him again and I’m already counting down the minutes until I get his call.
“Allie! It’s Hannah. Something’s happened. We gotta go!” Ryan’s clipped words scramble as he frantically tries to grab my arm to pull me through the maze of the crowd. I instinctively pull out of his grip, unclear as to what’s causing his urgency.
When his words finally sink in, my eyes widen with worry. “I-I’m sorry. I have to go. I’ll see you soon?” I ask Nick hopefully. He gives me a reassuring nod, and a slight grin, to let me know he understands why I need to leave.
When Ryan and I finally exit through the bottleneck of the front door, warm, Californian night air blows over our heated faces, providing little comfort for our racing hearts and exhausted bodies.
Red and blue lights flash at the front of the property, next to the woodline. Congregating coeds are being fended off by police officers spreading yellow crime-scene tape, and I suddenly feel sick.
Please let Hannah be okay.
Sirens... Screaming spectators… The image of Hannah’s scratched, bruised and lifeless body being lifted into the ambulance… All of it will forever be seared into my memory. I haven’t known Hannah for long, but I’m crying tears for whatever she’s gone through.
As the paramedics speed away, the sound of chaos still echoes in my head. I’m frozen in place as party-goers return to their carefree night of one-night stands and booze, unable to comprehend how Hannah ended up out in the woods—away from the party—away from Ryan.
It’s scary how quickly a fun-filled night can turn so dark and ominous. How someone’s life can be turned upside down in the blink of an eye.
Rumours about what happened float on the breeze, circulating numerous versions of the “truth” of Hannah’s attack: When she came out for air, she lingered too close to the woods and a wild animal attacked her. An ex-boyfriend was jealous of her flirting with Ryan and took her away from the crowd to teach her that no one else can have her.
The stories get more outrageous as time passes: She was abducted by aliens, probed, then left for dead. She went for a stroll through the woods when she tripped and got attacked by rabid, wild bunnies.
The imagination of drunken students knows no bounds.
After being told to go home by an attending officer, Ryan, Scott, Charlotte, and I silently amble back to Charlotte’s and Hannah’s dorm, lost in our thoughts. Ryan and Scott gather pillows and blankets and take their positions on the hard floor while Charlotte and I crawl into her bed. Then we all lie awake, staring at the darkened ceiling, waiting to hear that our new friend will be okay.
The very second I stepped into my minimalistic, two-bedroom dorm room—after gathering my class schedule—memories of high school filtered in. Throughout my senior year, the incessant one-sided arguments with my textbooks, demanding them to telepathically put their information into my brain, had proven to be a fruitless strategy. Following the nonsensical grovelling, I still had a barren wasteland of knowledge up top, and large, thick paperweights decorating the corner of my desk. Studying was never something that came easily for me, and obviously, my undisciplined ways will have to change if I’m going to keep up with my new responsibilities.
Needless to say, I’m beyond thrilled that I can take the night off to relax in the company of my closest friends—before life takes over and I have to become serious about my future.
The excitement to show off my new pixie cut—which is a drastic change from my previous long, blonde waves—is bubbling beneath my skin. I feel like a million bucks. I can’t wait to exchange the headache formed from forced maturity for one induced by the thumping bass of a frat party. It’s a much-needed distraction from my new reality, and will be a limited indulgence in the days to come.
I startle at the sound of someone knocking on my door. The quick raps indicate the excitement on the other side. After giving myself the once-over, I stride in its direction to open it. Both men standing on the other side give me an exaggerated double-take, then check my room number with mock confusion.
“I’m sorry,” Ryan’s gravelly voice teases, “but our friend Allie told us to meet her at this address…is she here?”
“Oh, stop it, you big jerk,” I quip, punching him lightly on the arm. “Seriously, though. You like?” I ask hopefully.
He leans in, placing his hand beside his mouth as if he’s about to tell me a secret, “Don’t tell the old you, but I think I like Allie 2.0 better...she’s smokin’ hot.” He pulls away with an exaggerated wink and adds, “In fact, if you weren’t like my annoying little sister, I’d be trying to take advantage of you right now.”
“Aww, that’s so sweet,” I retort sarcastically. “And if you weren’t like my irritating older brother…I’d still shoot you down.”
“Ouch. You break my heart, Allie.” Ryan stumbles back, dramatically clasping his hands to his chest, and a large grin pulls at my mouth in amusement.
“Oh, you can handle it, you big baby.”
“Are you two children done bickering?” Scott interjects, faking impatience. “We have a party to get to.”
“C’mon, you know you love it when I pick at Ryan. Don’t even try to deny it,” I patronize. “But, yeah, let’s get going.” After locking my door, I turn to follow the boys down a long corridor. At the end of the hall, elevators wait to lead us to the exit. Once we’re outside, we walk across campus to meet up with our friend, Charlotte.
I feel so tiny walking between these tall, muscular guys. My tiny frame only reaches just under Scott’s shoulder at a meagre five foot three inches—approximately a foot shorter than the towering men flanking me.
With Ryan’s piercing blue eyes and calculated mess of hair, and Scott’s buzzed head and five o’clock shadow, the two are mouthwatering for sure. The appreciative leers of passing girls reinforce this obvious truth. The first time I saw them, butterflies fluttered in my stomach. But as time passed, they became like annoyingly lovable older brothers to me, instead, and their friendship became more important to me.
I’ve known this insane duo since senior year. After Charlotte and I knocked our school bully out of the top of her hierarchy, Ryan and Scott applauded our perfectly executed dethroning and decided we were “cool enough” to hang out with them. We’ve been friends ever since.
Once we reach Charlotte’s room, I glimpse a beautiful brown-haired girl through the broad shoulders in front of me. She greets us with a Jessica Alba smile and for the first time in my life, a little insecurity creeps in. She’s absolutely gorgeous. She has long, auburn waves flowing down her back, perfect delicate features, and a tall, curvy body that rivals any movie star. I know the guys are going to be completely enthralled with her before she even speaks.
She introduces herself as Hannah, Charlotte’s new roommate. And following the rest of the introductions, Ryan seems to have already staked his claim. He’s not subtle in his obvious attraction, and in true Ryan fashion, he uses his natural charm to draw her in.
Despite our constant teasing, he really is a great guy. She would be very lucky to have him fawning over her. And from what I can see, she’d make a great addition to our foursome. She’s funny, smart, and down-to-earth, and she seems to fit in great. I look forward to seeing what happens between these two.
Shortly after meeting Hannah, my mini firecracker of a friend, Charlotte, rounds the corner. She’s wearing a cute, white peasant shirt and a pair of dark-wash cutoffs. As she walks toward us, she expertly pulls her chestnut hair up into a top knot. With her preparation complete, the five of us ready ourselves to leave.
The walk to the Beta house—where the party’s being held—goes by quickly. And within minutes, we enter the vibrating atmosphere surrounding its aged structure. The stately, two-storey house sits on a small parcel of land with minimal landscaping beautifying its greenery. Its tall exterior needs a good cleaning and boasts the stereotypical perception of its tenants.
The rumble of bass pulses in my chest as we near the man tending the front door. His square shoulders fill the frame to its extents as he monitors those trying to enter. Once the proper password is spoken, we’re given a choice of colourful Jell-O shots. The cool, blue jelly slides down easily. I lick my lips to savour the sweet taste. My eyes linger just past the entrance to take in the flashing lights and dancing bodies. Then, when everyone has downed their rite of passage, we’re granted entry.
The five of us enter and look around the house’s spacious interior. The air in the room is thick with the odour of alcohol and other indistinguishable scents. The smell definitely leaves something to be desired, but Charlotte’s contagious personality feeds everyone’s excitement, and we all soon share the high of her enthusiasm. After downing a quick drink, we rhythmically move to the thump of the music—enjoying our night of freedom—and step onto the makeshift dance floor in the centre of the party.
It’s not long before the pull of appreciative stares leads two drunken spectators into the centre of our group. They attempt to grind against our backsides, taking turns between us girls. Their hands grasp our waists, pulling us toward them. The stench of beer lingers on their breath, and the smell of sweat permeates between us, turning my stomach with repulsion. Ryan and Scott sense our unease and step in to save us the trouble of dealing with them ourselves. I feel sorry for the next women who will have to endure their sleaziness and pray that they stay unconfrontational when told to back off.
Ryan lithely moves next to Hannah protectively. Their obvious attraction guides them closer until they’re dancing together. Their grinding is consensual and I find myself needing to look away and leave them to their flirting.
Scott settles between Charlotte and me, making us laugh with his exaggerated moves—always the comedian—and I feel my stress slowly evaporating away. My body loosens and my mind frees, forgetting about the life waiting for me outside of these four walls.
After about an hour of releasing my tension, I sense a warmth closing in from behind. It separates itself from the other heated bodies with its mere presence. A searing hand rests at the small of my back when lips brush against my right ear, intimately asking, “Will you dance with me?”
His deep voice resonates in a cool shiver down my body. I look over my shoulder to find his mouth only inches from mine. My stomach flutters with excitement. His inviting lips curl into a hopeful grin as he waits for my response. I turn toward him, boldly placing my hands on his chest—allowing my actions to speak for themselves. Despite the directness of my answer, his eyes still silently seek permission as he places his hands cautiously on my hips.
His kind green eyes peer down to mine from his tall stature. He towers over me by at least nine or ten inches. His smile never falters as we move together. I shimmy closer when I feel more comfortable in the fact he’s not like the other two men who tried to force themselves into my personal space. I’m not normally a forward person, but my hands slide up the hard rounds of his arms onto his wide shoulders appreciatively. There’s something about him that makes me trust him and lures me in.
We’ve somehow manoeuvred ourselves away from my friends. Song after song, he keeps me lost in his gaze. The jade of his eyes sparkles under the party lights hung around the room and I find myself standing on my toes to get closer to him—the shot and one drink lowering my inhibitions slightly. He pauses in surprise, then meets me halfway, pressing his soft lips gently against mine.
The kiss is slow…sweet…but slowly reveals the secret of what could be. My lips tingle from his careful attention. The ease of our movements is surprisingly tantalizing as he works over my mouth. He pulls back slightly and I miss the feel of him already. My mind reels from what I initiated with this handsome stranger, though I don’t have time to dwell on it for long. His smooth voice cuts through the clamour of voices and music, “By the way, my name’s Nick,” he says with an adorable smile.
“Allyson, but my friends call me Allie.
He watches me for a moment before he speaks up. “I’d like to see you again, Allie. Would you be willing to give me your number?”
I suddenly feel like I’m in high school again. A giddiness builds in my stomach, forcibly rolling out of my mouth with a quick, “Yeah. Of course. I’d like that.”
After he hands me his phone, I enter my digits and hand it back. I watch him type out a message to someone, then my phone dings with a message alert. My mouth curls when I realize he’s my mystery sender and I look at what he’s written.
Nick: You’re beautiful.
My eyes return to his and see the sincerity in his statement. I find myself looking forward to seeing him again and I’m already counting down the minutes until I get his call.
“Allie! It’s Hannah. Something’s happened. We gotta go!” Ryan’s clipped words scramble as he frantically tries to grab my arm to pull me through the maze of the crowd. I instinctively pull out of his grip, unclear as to what’s causing his urgency.
When his words finally sink in, my eyes widen with worry. “I-I’m sorry. I have to go. I’ll see you soon?” I ask Nick hopefully. He gives me a reassuring nod, and a slight grin, to let me know he understands why I need to leave.
When Ryan and I finally exit through the bottleneck of the front door, warm, Californian night air blows over our heated faces, providing little comfort for our racing hearts and exhausted bodies.
Red and blue lights flash at the front of the property, next to the woodline. Congregating coeds are being fended off by police officers spreading yellow crime-scene tape, and I suddenly feel sick.
Please let Hannah be okay.
Sirens... Screaming spectators… The image of Hannah’s scratched, bruised and lifeless body being lifted into the ambulance… All of it will forever be seared into my memory. I haven’t known Hannah for long, but I’m crying tears for whatever she’s gone through.
As the paramedics speed away, the sound of chaos still echoes in my head. I’m frozen in place as party-goers return to their carefree night of one-night stands and booze, unable to comprehend how Hannah ended up out in the woods—away from the party—away from Ryan.
It’s scary how quickly a fun-filled night can turn so dark and ominous. How someone’s life can be turned upside down in the blink of an eye.
Rumours about what happened float on the breeze, circulating numerous versions of the “truth” of Hannah’s attack: When she came out for air, she lingered too close to the woods and a wild animal attacked her. An ex-boyfriend was jealous of her flirting with Ryan and took her away from the crowd to teach her that no one else can have her.
The stories get more outrageous as time passes: She was abducted by aliens, probed, then left for dead. She went for a stroll through the woods when she tripped and got attacked by rabid, wild bunnies.
The imagination of drunken students knows no bounds.
After being told to go home by an attending officer, Ryan, Scott, Charlotte, and I silently amble back to Charlotte’s and Hannah’s dorm, lost in our thoughts. Ryan and Scott gather pillows and blankets and take their positions on the hard floor while Charlotte and I crawl into her bed. Then we all lie awake, staring at the darkened ceiling, waiting to hear that our new friend will be okay.
