Prologue
Hello, California.
My name is Quinn, and I’m a Manhattan transplant. I come with an older brother, Tyler, and a ridiculously spoiled chihuahua named Princess. Mom and Dad are still back in New York, thank God. Last summer, I finally wrestled a high school diploma out of the system. Tyler’s been out here in LA for a while now, crammed into a three-bedroom apartment with some roommate I’ve already forgotten the name of. Today, I’m finally joining him.
Right now, I’m jammed into the passenger seat of Tyler’s BMW, having just arrived at the airport. I had to practically *beg* him to pick me up.
“So, how’s Mom holding up?” Tyler asks, already whipping a U-turn toward the apartment, which, thankfully, isn’t far from the airport. “How long did it take the waterworks to stop?”
I scoff, turning my head toward the window. He always knew how to zero in on my buttons. “Not long. Remember, you’re the golden child. I’m just a mistake made during a Hawaiian vacation.”
“That’s not true, Quinn, and you know it.” He shakes his head and cranks up the volume, Drake’s ‘God’s Plan’ blasting through the speakers.
The rest of the ride unfolded in silence—broken only by Princess’s soft snores from the backseat—and we carefully avoided eye contact. I love Tyler, I really do, but sometimes I want to strangle him for the way he lets my parents dote on him.
I remember how he got his first phone at twelve, while I had to plead for one at fifteen. Kids used to tease me for being a late bloomer. It wasn't just phones. There were countless little things. I won't hold it against him… not yet, anyway.
We pull up to the apartment complex, and Tyler slots his BMW into its assigned parking spot.
Dragging my luggage and Princess’s carrier up a few steps, I finally stepped into the space I'm going to live in with my brother for now on. Tyler unlocks the door and lets me in. The second I stepped inside, I let Princess loose, and she promptly launched herself into a chaotic exploration of the unfamiliar territory.
Wow. This place is… nice. Modern, clean. Definitely not what I expected from a bachelor pad. Black and white decor is carefully arranged on shelves and cabinets. Trinkets and miscellaneous items—rocks, scented candles—are beautifully arranged on a brown coffee table. The black velvet couch and white curtains complement each other. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting this level of… sophistication.
“Sorry it’s so neat,” Tyler says, grabbing an Xbox controller from the cabinet beneath the coffee table. “My roommate’s a bit of a clean freak.”
“Your room is the one down the hall, to the left.” He points with his chin, already powering up the Xbox, barely glancing my way. I spent hours in a crowded airport, another couple hours on a smelly plane, and *this* is the reception I get?
Gee, I feel welcomed. Oh, and let me tell you, I’m exceptionally good at sarcasm. It’s gotten me into trouble, earned me a few bruises, but I’m damn good at it.
Pushing my bags ahead of me, I head down a dark hallway and turn left into an empty room.
Four blank white walls. Riveting. Of course, there’s a medium-sized bed. Tyler probably got the bigger one, but hey, at least I got *a* bed, right? Knowing him, he wouldn’t give two shits if I had to sleep on the floor. He’s only good at scaring boys away and skating.
After about thirty minutes of unpacking, I head to the bathroom—connected to my room, through a door to the other side. I’m guessing that’s where the roommate’s quarters are. Speaking of whom, I should probably learn his name soon.
I undress and turn on the shower. While the water warms up, I brush my teeth, trying to scrub away the airplane grime. Once the water’s hot enough, I slip inside, scrubbing the dirt off my tired body and hair.
I sigh loudly. Finally. Adulthood.