chapter one
confessions of a rich bitch

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Isadora Windsor liked to think she didn't need anyone. It was an old state of mind which she adopted when she was young, but it stuck with her throughout her teenage years. Because truth be told, she had been taking care of herself ever since her mother died and her father decided to replace the growing void in their family with credit cards. So Izzy decided from that point on that she didn't need her father to tell her everything was going to be all right because everything was certainly not going to be okay, it was going to be just meh. And she was fine with that. She could handle her life being just mediocre if it meant she didn't have to deal with anyone weighing her down with their feelings.

          As far as Izzy was concerned, she didn't need anyone crying to her about their breakups or her father calling her to check in from whatever country he was visiting as if he actually cared. She had more than enough to deal with; she didn't need to deal with his half-assed check-ins, too. She had to deal with living every day, slowly turning into a carbon copy of her mother. She'd look in the mirror and be reminded of the past—the past which seemed to haunt her throughout the years. Except she wasn't her mother, that much was clear.

          Save for her looks, Izzy was not Julia. Izzy was Izzy. She was incorrigible, reckless, moody, and quite frankly, a spoiled bitch. She seemed to be a different person every year. Like the way seasons changed every few months, Izzy was all sunny and warm like a beam of inveterate light one year, and then she'd morphed into a winter solstice the next. But despite the differences, Izzy would always look like her mother . . . there was no running away from that. Every time she looked in the mirror, she was reminded just how much they looked alike which reminded her of how much of a disappointment she was compared to her, and then she'd be stuck in this ouroboros state of mind which she couldn't escape.

          She found herself dwelling in those thoughts that afternoon as she reclined on a beach towel on one of the many beaches in North Carolina. The sun beat down on her tan skin, heating the blood in her veins and engulfing her in a feeling of bliss. The smell of the ocean water and the sunscreen slathered on her body always brought comfort to her, especially when paired with the warm rays of the sun and the slight breeze which grazed over the surface of her skin every few minutes. But she found it harder to focus on the feeling of the sun on her skin when her thoughts were consumed by memories of her mother.

          You see, Julia Windsor passed away in a car accident during the summer after Izzy's freshman year, and in only a little over a week, it would be the anniversary of her death which brought up old memories Izzy thought she had forgotten. The main thought being the time she and her mom came to that same beach and searched for seashells the entire day. When they returned home, the two of them had sunburns to show for their diligent work.

          It was safe to say, Julia Windsor, who modeled for a living, had landed herself in some deep shit with her agent when pictures surfaced of her flaunting her new peeling red skin. But Julia met the backlash with a roll of her eyes. She didn't care. She never did. It wasn't like they needed the money from her job anyway. William Windsor, Izzy's father, had money coming out of his ears from his work in multiple billion-dollar companies. So jobs to the Windsor women were almost taboo, but Julia still liked to continue with her modeling gigs because it was her passion. And she wanted to instill in her daughter that just because she could live off her father's money for the rest of her life, she should take some liberties and pursue anything her heart desired. If her passions rewarded her with money, then that was a plus.

          But then Julia Windsor died. She kicked the bucket. Gave up the ghost. Dropped dead. Whatever. The point was, the once dazzling woman found on runways in her glory days was now buried six feet underground being devoured by maggots. Yeah, she was food for the maggots now and for some reason, the whole ordeal made her very much still kicking daughter, Izzy, feel just as dead.

          When Julia left the world, the color went with her. Izzy watched as everything she once found vibrant and bright faded into hues of gray and turned dull. She watched as her seemingly perfect life was ripped to pieces, leaving her to stand in the middle of the rubble without another soul around. And then there were some things she didn't even realize that had changed. She didn't notice when it became such a chore to so much as smile. Or how hard it was to walk into the places she and her mother used to dine at on the weekends. And she didn't realize she started speeding up the closer she reached a red light, hoping by some chance a car would hit her and she'd feel something again.

          But the things she did notice were more haunting than the things she didn't. These obvious signs of her world being flipped upside down plagued her mind every day and made it hard to even want to try to keep up with her image as one of the Kook princesses. The people around her didn't notice the changes, but she did. She noticed when this feeling of loneliness grew in her chest and it became harder to be alone. Even when she wasn't alone or when she was in a room full of people, she still felt lonely . . . like they couldn't see her. But being around those people was enough to trick her brain into believing she wasn't actually alone even if it was just for a few hours. So, she stuck to what she knew and surrounded herself with people who didn't really care about her just so she wouldn't have to think about just how alone she really was.

          That all led her to that afternoon when one of her friends, Sarah Cameron, drove up to her estate and called on her to come to the beach with her boyfriend and her brother. Izzy didn't really want to go. She felt more like staying inside and wallowing in the memories of her mother, but she forced herself to slap on a bikini and get in her car. (She didn't like to ride in other people's cars. She didn't know why, but she just couldn't do it.) She tried to use these people she had known since she was a kid as a distraction from the void growing in her chest, but it appeared she couldn't even use them to distract herself from her emotions. The feelings just kept coming back into her life like the resilient waves of the ocean washing up on the shore only a few feet away from her.

          "How's the sun?" Sarah asked, the sudden sound of her voice ripping Izzy from her memories. Izzy fluttered open her eyes to see Sarah standing above her in a pink bathing suit. Her blonde hair appeared to be darker from the water of the ocean. She quickly tied her hair into a bun on top of her head to get the wet hair off her back, but a few strands stuck to her cheeks.

          Izzy propped herself up on her elbows and shielded her eyes from the sun. "Sunny," she hummed. "How's the water?"

          Sarah shrugged. "Watery." She laid down on the beach towel beside Izzy and reached for the sunscreen, flipping it open and spreading the white substance on her legs. She tossed the sunscreen aside and laid back to bask in the sun's rays. Izzy sighed and leaned back too.

          A second later, the silence engulfed them. It was comforting. Sarah could be comforting, too. She could also be a little distant, but for the most part, she stuck by Izzy throughout the years. Sometimes Izzy felt like Sarah was only her friend because their parents went to school together or the fact that her mom died and she felt guilty or that Izzy and Sarah's brother, Rafe, had started dating last year. The point was there were lots of reasons Sarah had probably stuck with Izzy, but never once did the Windsor girl think the pretty blonde had been her friend for so long simply because of her bubbly personality and charm. Because truth be told, Izzy had none of those qualities . . . except maybe charm, but she was more manipulative than anything else.

          Just as Izzy felt the thoughts of her mother resurfacing in her brain, Sarah sat up and broke the silence. "You know . . . " she began, bringing her brown eyes to meet Izzy's bright green ones. She quickly shifted her gaze to her hands and gnawed on her bottom lip, trying to fight off a smirk. Izzy furrowed her brows and propped herself up on her elbows. "Yesterday, JJ came over to help John B with something at my house and they were talking about you."

          Izzy groaned and rolled her eyes. "Let me guess . . . he called me a bitch."

          "Actually—" Sarah plucked the Chanel sunglasses resting on top of Izzy's head and slid them onto her face— "he said you tried to kill him."

          Izzy's brows shot up high on her forehead and she scoffed. "Are you serious?" She shook her head at the thought of JJ Maybank spreading the word around the Outer Banks that she had tried to kill him. It was just plain stupid. He was stupid. "That's not even a little bit true. Rafe and I were taking the boat out for the day and when we got back, I was trying to throw the rope to you know tie the boat to the dock and JJ happened to be running by like an idiot. It's not my fault his foot got caught on the rope. And it's not my fault he got dragged into the water either. He should have been watching where he was going."

          A laugh escaped Sarah's lips. "You're telling me his foot simultaneously got caught on the rope that you threw?" she asked through mild laughter. She quickly quieted her laughter by holding a hand to her lips before she clicked her tongue and sighed. "I don't know. It kind of sounds like the world's trying to tell you something."

          Izzy narrowed her eyes at the girl. "Oh, bullshit," she spat. "JJ just has the self-awareness of a flea." She plucked the sunglasses covering Sarah's eyes and shoved them up the bridge of her own nose before she flipped over on her stomach and put her back in the sun's mercy.

          "Or . . . " Sarah drew out her words, "it's fate."

          "Like you believe in that," Izzy muttered.

          Sarah shrugged. "I'm just saying," she mused as she laid back down on the beach towel and shielded her eyes from the sun. "You two do find yourselves in pretty strange situations together."

          Izzy scoffed at that but she didn't deny it. She wanted to. Believe her she wanted to deny it all, but it was true. She and JJ Maybank did happen to find themselves in weird situations together. It had been happening for years now. Years ago, JJ's father, Luke Maybank, started working for the Windsors, and the two of them hadn't been able to avoid each other since. At first, they had gotten along and hung out in Izzy's pool when JJ would come with his dad to work. But then things got bad with the Maybanks and the next thing they knew, Luke had stolen from the Windsors and was fired immediately. It was then Izzy realized JJ and his father couldn't be trusted with anything and this deep hatred for the boy began. It grew more every time JJ proved he was just an ungrateful Pogue from the Cut who sought out trouble. Izzy assumed he felt the same since every time she ran into him, he mocked her and called her a spoiled princess from the Figure Eight. Whatever. She knew his words didn't matter. He was still JJ Maybank, an idiot Pogue and she was still Izzy Windsor, a Kook princess. They were born to be enemies, the universe just had a way of enforcing their roles.

          As Izzy was mentally punching JJ in the face, she must have drifted from reality and lost touch with her surroundings. One second she was erasing the name JJ Maybank from her mind, then the next something hard was hitting her on the head.

          Izzy flinched at the contact and rubbed the pain away as she shot up to see what had hit her. A small seashell had landed near her beach towel, leading her to believe someone had hit her with it. Her thoughts were proven true as she glanced up and discovered Topper staring at her in shock as Rafe laughed quietly to himself. She narrowed her eyes at Topper and sent him a glare. "What the fuck, Topper?" she spat, turning the corners of her lips into a scowl.

          Topper shot his hands up in surrender. He was holding an empty beer bottle in one hand, revealing he and Rafe had been playing some sort of knock off baseball game with beer bottles and seashells. So in other words, they were being fucking idiots. "Sorry, Iz, your boyfriend's a horrible pitcher," he explained, shoving a finger at Rafe. Rafe only shrugged and kept the smirk on his face.

          Izzy made a face. "Isn't that like dangerous?" she asked. Sarah gave a groan from beside her and looked up to assess the situation. She quickly rolled her eyes and laid back down when she realized what the two boys were doing.

          Rafe waved the two girls off. "Not now, babe, we're in the semifinals," he said, causing Izzy to roll her eyes.

          Topper shifted his eyes back to the boy and scoffed. "You fucking wish we were."

          Rafe sent him a look before he tossed another seashell into the air and whacked it with the base of his beer bottle. Topper made an estranged noise as he reached out to hit the shell, but he missed by a solid five inches, causing a hearty laugh to bubble from Rafe's chest. "Bro, you suck ass at this," the Cameron boy remarked.

          Topper slapped his arms against his sides. "Nah, you're the one not throwing it hard enough," he exclaimed as he pointed the end of the beer bottle in Rafe's direction.

          Rafe screwed up his face. "What? No," he scoffed. "You have to tilt your hand back farther like this." He demonstrated tilting back his arm to gain momentum and then swung his arm forward as if he were hitting one of the seashells.

          Topper shook his head. "Bullshit."

          Rafe shrugged then tossed a seashell to Topper. "Come on, hit me then," he said, stepping back and preparing himself to hit the shell with his beer bottle. Topper moved his arm back to gain momentum then swung his hand forward, throwing the seashell at the Cameron boy. Rafe swung his beer bottle forward and whacked the shell into the air. He whistled as it hit the ground. "See. What did I say?" Rafe slapped his chest and glanced to see if Izzy had been watching, which she was but she also didn't really care. "I'm a fucking god."

          "Hell, no, this is rigged. It's all about the velocity," Topper protested. He looked for someone to back him up. Izzy just shrugged, causing the boy to avert his gaze to his girlfriend. "Right, Sarah?" Sarah tossed her hand up and hummed in acknowledgment. Izzy smirked at that.

          "Velocity, my ass," Rafe muttered as he stretched his back. "You don't even know what that means."

          Topper scoffed. "Hey, I take chemistry."

          Rafe shot him a look. "Physics, dumbass."

          "Whatever," Topper muttered, waving him off, "you didn't even go to college."

          Rafe shook his head as a small laugh bubbled in his chest. "And you're still in high school," he pointed out as he approached Topper and grabbed the beer bottle from him. He tossed the two bottles to the ground before the two of them engrossed themselves in another conversation. They were speaking quietly, so Izzy couldn't hear them, and she didn't care to listen.

          "I swear sometimes it's like we're dating toddlers," Sarah muttered from beside her.

          Izzy smiled, but she didn't laugh. "That's because their brains aren't fully developed."

          "I heard that," Rafe called over his shoulder.

          "You were meant to," Izzy called back.

          Topper snickered. "She got you there, man."

          "Yeah, whatever, come on." Rafe slapped his friend on the back and walked them over to the beach chairs where all their belongings resided.

          Izzy watched as Rafe began to dig into a bag, but she didn't care to see what he was doing. Instead, she rested her head on her arm and closed her eyes. "Like I said, they're idiots," she muttered to Sarah.

          Sarah grinned. "Can't fight with you on that."

          Izzy thought of Rafe for a second. He was an idiot. She knew he was, but she didn't really care. He wasn't the best, actually, he was kind of an asshole, but their families had been friends since the beginning of time so she had to deal with him. She didn't plan on dating him in the beginning and she definitely wasn't in love with him now. She wasn't sure she'd ever fall for him, but he helped fill the void and their relationship made their families content, so she stayed with him. It wasn't all so bad, she supposed. After all, Rafe was a few years older than her and he was pretty hot, so there was that. "At least they're hot," she voiced her thoughts out loud before she could stop herself.

          Sarah scrunched up her nose. "Ew," she spat as if she had tasted something putrid. "Do not call my brother hot."

          "If he wasn't, I wouldn't be with him," Izzy said. She wasn't lying either, because truth be told, it helped that Rafe was attractive, otherwise, she'd find it a lot harder to stay with him.

           "Oh, as if," the Cameron girl scoffed. "You two are like destined or some shit . . . I wish I had that." Her voice was quiet, which urged Izzy to open her eyes and see if the girl was all right. But it was clear she wasn't. Sarah Cameron had something on her mind that she hadn't told Izzy, and the girl was dying to know what thoughts were plaguing her friend.

          Izzy propped herself up on her arms and stared at the girl. "Don't you have that with Top?" she asked, her voice low so the boys couldn't overhear them from their spot by the chairs.

          Sarah shifted her gaze to Izzy's face, but she didn't say a word. She didn't have to. Her face said it all. But before she could voice her thoughts, Rafe called over to them, interrupting their conversation. The two girls glanced at the boys to see Rafe waving them over. They looked at each other with a shared look of distaste, but nevertheless, they stood to their feet and gathered their belongings.

          "I swear if they try throwing us in the water again I'm going to kill them," Sarah said as she snatched up the bottle of sunscreen. She tucked it under her arm and went to work with the towel in her hands, folding it so it was easier to hold.

          Izzy nodded her head in agreement. "Yeah, I'll help." She folded her own towel and tucked it under her arm before she bent down and shoved on her denim shorts over her white bikini bottoms.

         A smile lifted onto the Cameron girl's face. "Any idea on where we should hide the bodies?"

          Izzy raised her brows. "That's all you."

          "What?" Sarah scoffed. "You'll do the dirty but won't help clean up?"

          "Too much work. Too messy, too," Izzy claimed, a small scowl plastered on her porcelain face. "You think these nails are cheap?" She gestures to her manicured hands which she had paid around seventy dollars to get done. It was just a plain white, but the formula was supposed to be some organic bullshit, so she went for it. She figured she'd spend as much money as possible since her father thought money equaled happiness in Izzy's mind. It didn't, by the way, but it also didn't hurt.

          Sarah pursed her lips. "Fine, but if I get caught, I'm putting the blame on you." She pointed a finger at the girl, trying to act irritated, but a small smile tugged at her lips.

          Izzy shrugged. Honestly, if the two of them found themselves in such a situation, she wouldn't mind it. "Fine by me as long as you and me pull a Thelma and Louise and flee town the second things go south."

          Sarah tapped her chin and looked to the sky as if she was pondering over the idea. A second later, she shrugged and nodded. "Deal," she said. The two were obviously joking, but some honesty shined through her voice. "How's the Bahamas?"

          As Izzy pretended to think about it, the two of them gathered the rest of their belongings and walked toward the boys sitting near the shaded area of the beach chairs. Izzy threw her stuff onto a chair and turned to Sarah. "Bahamas it is," she confirmed with the nod of her head.

          Topper glanced at Rafe for an answer, and Rafe shrugged. He turned to the girls and looked between his girlfriend and Izzy. "What about the Bahamas?" he asked as he sat up straighter in the beach chair. He appeared to be on edge. Izzy guessed it was due to Sarah's incorrigible nature which had him anticipating the worst. After all, it wouldn't be such a surprise if Sarah took off to the Bahamas without so much as a goodbye. Topper must have been thinking exactly that.

          "Nothing," Sarah blurted out, maybe a little too harshly. "What do you want?" Her hands were on her hips and her lips were pursed as her eyes drifted between the two boys.

          Rafe dug into his bag and pulled out a bottle of an orange substance. From a distance, it probably appeared to be a bottle of vitamin water or some shit like that, but the two girls knew exactly what it was the moment it appeared in front of them. Because if there was one thing about Rafe they all knew it was that he was always looking for a way to mix drugs and alcohol into any type of social gathering. "I brought some special juice," the Cameron boy said as he shook the bottle of the orange substance in his hand.

          Sarah's eyes lit up. "Wow, Rafe, you're finally using that small brain of yours for some good," she mocked.

          Sarah shot him a look of approval before she shot out her hand and grabbed the bottle from her brother. She unscrewed the cap and took a long sip from the bottle. She passed it off to Topper who drank some from it before he handed it back to Rafe and took Sarah by the hand, leading her to the middle of the beach. The two of them wrapped their arms around each other and began swaying back and forth to the tune of no music. Izzy rolled her eyes. She was grateful the sunglasses hid her eyes from view otherwise she'd have to deal with Rafe calling her a cynic.

          But it seemed even her sunglasses couldn't mask her emotions since the next thing she knew, Rafe was standing up and wrapping his arms around her waist. Her eyes drifted to meet his, but they didn't make her feel safe like they used to when they were kids. Rafe Cameron wasn't the boy she used to know; she could see it in his eyes. "Come on, Iz, lighten up," he whispered, breathing out through his nose. "Have a drink." He brought the bottle up to her lips, but Izzy turned her head and stepped away from him.

          Anger boiled in her veins, heating her skin. She couldn't believe him. She knew Rafe could be an insensitive ass, but she had told him many times she didn't like to drink too much. She drank, don't get her wrong. She drank a lot, but never so much to the point she couldn't walk. It'd been that way ever since her mother was hit by a drunk driver. Yeah, she had ran a red light but the guy who hit her happened to be drunk as well, which terrified Izzy to the core. But she didn't want to say that aloud. She couldn't right now or she feared she'd break down in tears, and she couldn't do that. She had to bottle up her feelings until she was in the safety of her own home. "No," she spat instead. "Your shit always tastes like piss."

          Rafe groaned and took a step backward as he ran a hand through his blond hair. "What's wrong with you?" he asked, the tone of his voice like daggers piercing Izzy's heart. He didn't mean his words to come off the way they did, but they still managed to make his girlfriend shift uncomfortably. "We're all just trying to have a little fun."

          Izzy masked her feelings with a blank stare. "Getting piss drunk with you is not what I consider fun," she spat as she crossed her arms over her chest and jutted out her hip.

          The Cameron boy studied her for a few seconds, taking in her unamused expression and the way she seemed to be drifting further away from him despite neither of them moving an inch. "It used to be," he mumbled. He knew his words would dig under the epidermis of her skin and irritate her. He wanted her to feel guilty, and for a second it appeared she did. "Look, Sarah's having fun. At least dance with me."

          Izzy glanced over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of Topper and Sarah laughing about something as the two of them danced. But Izzy didn't want that. Not right now. She realized she should have stayed home even if the loneliness evaded her privacy. "You know I don't like getting shitfaced," she muttered, her voice sharp and harsh like rocks hitting a window.

          He didn't answer for a second and Izzy thought maybe he had just given up trying to fight with her. Everyone else had. She wondered when he was finally going to leave her to wallow alone. She guessed she deserved it. But Rafe never knew when to stop, and soon his lips were moving for him. "God, is this about your mom?" he groaned, crossing his arms over his chest as he narrowed his eyes at her.

          A tight feeling formed in Izzy's throat. She wasn't one to show her emotions. She didn't like it. She thought it made her appear weak and the daughter of a billionaire should never show any emotion of such negativity. She had learned that long ago, but that didn't mean it wasn't hard to keep the floodgates from opening.

          "Yes, it's about my mom." Izzy whipped her head toward Rafe and glared at him even though he couldn't see her eyes through her sunglasses. "You know I don't like drinking that shit. It gets you fucked up fast."

          Rafe shrugged. He didn't seem to have absorbed her words. "So then just have a sip. You don't have to chug the whole thing," he stated as if it were the obvious resolution. Izzy only glared at him. "Besides, I don't know what the big deal is. Your mom wasn't even the one who was drinking. It was the guy who hit her. I just think you're being a little dramatic."

          Something flashed in Izzy's eyes. She didn't know what it was. It could have been shock or anger or anything else which would prompt her to cuss out her boyfriend and storm off. But she couldn't overreact. Not again. "Making light of my mom's death now, are you?" she spat shaking her head at the boy. "That's a little played out, don't you think?"

          Rafe scoffed. "And being with you isn't?"

          Izzy swore her heart ripped through her viscera and dropped to her stomach. "Wow . . . you're a real Prince Charming, Rafe," she bit out, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "So goddamn charming." She gave him one last look before she reached for her belongings and began digging into her bag for her shirt. She was getting the hell out of there. If she didn't, she was going to punch Rafe in the face, and she'd enjoy every second of it.

          A look of regret crossed the boy's face as he reached forward and wrapped a hand around her forearm. "Hey, hey, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean it," he muttered, pulling her toward him so they were only a few inches apart. He brought a hand up to caress her jaw, rubbing his thumb across her cheek. "It's just . . . ever since your mom and what happened with Amelia Wright—"

          Izzy scoffed and held up a hand. "Oh, don't talk about Amelia right now. The bitch deserved it," she spat, her blood boiling in her veins as she thought back to just a few months prior. She did actually punch Amelia Wright in the face and she did end up breaking her nose, but the girl totally deserved it.

          The Wright girl was the head of the cheerleading team at Winchester Academy and she managed to single-handedly make Izzy's experience on the team a living Hell. It only got worse after Julia Windsor died. All it took was one offhand comment about the deceased woman and Izzy's fist was swinging toward Amelia's face. Izzy had to pay for the girl's rhinoplasty, but she didn't feel one ounce of guilt, and never once did she apologize.

          Rafe pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "You broke her nose."

          Izzy shrugged. "So?"

          A laugh escaped Rafe's lips, but it wasn't comforting nor did it fill her chest with joy. It felt menacing and cold. "So . . . she had to get surgery to fix it," he explained. "All because of a stupid comment she made about your mom."

          Izzy furrowed her brows. "It wasn't stupid."

          Rafe refrained from rolling his eyes. "You still broke her nose," he stated as if it were obvious, which it was, but Izzy didn't really care. She was glad she broke Amelia's nose. It made her feel something. "I mean people literally think you're a basket case, Iz."

          Izzy knew what people thought of her. She knew they saw her as a ticking time bomb, but she wasn't about to let them have the satisfaction of seeing her explode. "And? Do you?" she spat as she dragged her eyes across his face. She knew she was risking her luck now, but she needed to hear it from his lips. She was waiting for him to say it. Waiting for him to admit she wasn't as perfect as the rest of the world saw her. She wanted him to tell her she was a fraud and the image she had spent her whole life creating was just a facade to protect herself from the truth. She couldn't admit it to herself, but if he said it for her, then it'd be easier to accept. So she waited for another rejection, another affirmation that she didn't belong among the Kooks and their perfect lives. That she wasn't one of them and she never had been.

          Rafe sighed. "If it weren't for me you'd probably be slumming it with the Pogues." And there it was; the confirmation that Izzy Windsor was not like the others. She was the wolf among the sheep, and Rafe had just admitted it.

          "Oh, wow," Izzy scoffed. "Real classy, Rafe." She went for her bag and dug through it to find her shirt. She threw it over her white bikini top before she gathered the rest of her belongings and began walking toward where she parked her car.

          Rafe didn't seem to take the hint and instead of walking away from the grave he dug himself, he went after her. "Izzy, come on, you know what I meant,"

          Izzy shrugged. "Whatever," she muttered, keeping her voice monotone.

          "Oh, don't be like that," Rafe said as he grabbed her arm. Izzy pulled it out of his grasp and continued walking without uttering a word. "What? The silent treatment?" Izzy still didn't respond. "Fine, pout all you want, but I won't be answering the phone at four in the morning because you're sorry." He stepped back and walked toward Topper and Sarah. Izzy watched him go. She should have felt guilty, but she didn't. She only wanted to roll her eyes and walk away from him for good. But she didn't. She decided to stop herself from making a mistake and instead, she walked toward her parked car with the knowledge that boys like Rafe Cameron would never learn.

          Here was the thing about boys especially ones from the Figure Eight: they had a knack for making mistakes. And Rafe Cameron was the perfect example, but no one ever said anything about his faults. In fact, they applauded him simply because of the thing between his legs. Izzy thought that was stupid, but if she ever said anything about all the bullshit she had to put up with, they'd tell her boys would be boys. She hated that saying. It excused boys from owning up to their mistakes, while if a woman had the same faults, she'd be shunned.

          Boys were like dogs, Izzy decided as she approached her Mercury Comet convertible. Boys were like dogs in the cruelest sense. When a dog makes a mistake, you laugh at them or shake your head as if what they did was so stupid you couldn't even believe it . . . and then you move on. It was the same with boys. If a boy called a girl a derogatory name, you'd roll your eyes and continue on with your day. But god forbid if a woman said anything negative about a man, she'd be burned at the stake.

          Rafe Cameron was one of these men. He could get away with anything he wanted because he was a man and he was rich. Yeah, you couldn't forget the rich part either. If he was poor, he'd have less of a chance of getting by scratch free. But because he was a Kook and had money growing on the trees gracing his estate, he automatically got a free pass for everything. Which was exactly why he thought he was always right. The world had told him he was one of the special ones and he could do no harm. It tucked him in his bed every night and coddled him so he believed everyone else was less than compared to him. It was because of the way he grew up that sculpted his mind into thinking he was a gift. And because of that, he saw nothing wrong in the way he talked to Izzy and it would be him expecting an apology in the morning despite treating her like that.

          Izzy slid into her car and slammed the door. She sat there in silence as her anger slowly flowed through her veins. She wanted to slam her hands against the steering wheel or burn some of Rafe's clothes, but she couldn't. The voice in the back of her head reminded her she couldn't express too many emotions at once. It had been ingrained into her. She couldn't be overly expressive or too emotionless. She had to be a lady of course, and a lady didn't throw tantrums or burn her boyfriend's clothes when they fought. A lady should sit up right and smile . . . always smile.

          So she did as she had been told all her life and collected herself. She swept all the scattered pieces of her soul into a small box and locked them away with a key. She cleared her throat and curled her bleached blonde hair over her shoulder before she started the engine to her car and rolled down the road toward her estate. She remembered to keep her sunglasses on so people passing by couldn't see the fire burning in her eyes.

          As the car drove down the road, Izzy relished the roaring winds that twirled in her long blonde hair and whistled in her ears. She felt herself relax into her seat, but only slightly. Anger still coursed throughout her veins, burning holes in her body. She never once found a way to extinguish the fire. It was always there to remind her she wasn't like the other rich kids in the Figure Eight. She liked money like the rest of them and she enjoyed living life without a care in the world, but she could never truly let herself go. She overthought every situation she was thrown into, even the simple ones like what kind of dress she should wear to the Midsummers event just on the horizon.

          Her mother was like that, too. It was why Julia always ended up being the most well put together person in every event she attended. She was always the focal point. The star of the show. Even in her runway days, she was always the designer's favorite model. She was just naturally flawless at everything she did. Izzy wasn't like that. Although probably no one could tell, Izzy had too many flaws to count. Her anger being one of her major problems.

          And it was her anger which consumed her once again, flaring up in her bloodstream as she drove down the road. But this type of anger was different. It was rooted to her mother's memory. She tried to force the thoughts away and think of her mother in her glory days when she could have been found flaunting her confidence down a runway, but the memories of walking in and seeing her covered in blood from the crash kept infiltrating Izzy's mind.

          It was the summer after ninth grade when it happened. The girls on the cheer squad still had to practice every day to keep up their endurance or whatever. Izzy didn't really care about it that much. She was only there for her mom, who used to be the captain of the team during her high school years. But things took a turn for the worst that day when Sarah, who joined the team with Izzy, picked a fight with her for some reason and led the girl to call her mom. She wouldn't have called her if she had known Julia Windsor would drive through just one red light and meet her end.

          Izzy Windsor quickly realized when she saw her mother's body attached to all those tubes and wires, that it was all her fault. She had killed her mother. She knew it then and she was reminded of it now. And that made her all so fucking angry.

          She stopped letting herself need people after that. Instead, she used them. She used Rafe to fill the void. She was a user and she didn't really care. It didn't matter who she used, she just needed to feel something to distract herself from the anger ripping at her skin. But when she was alone, she didn't have anyone to stop the memories from infiltrating her senses. It was just her and the anger. She became a wildfire, burning at the touch of her own flames.

          Izzy gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white. An image of her mother's corpse flashed before her eyes and the anger grew. She thought about how her mother must have had her foot pressed against the gas pedal as she sped past that one red light. She thought about how she must have been so scared when the other car slammed right into her. She thought about how her mother died alone and it was all because little Izzy Windsor had her feelings hurt and got too emotional.

          When she entered town, Izzy pressed the brakes and stopped at the top of the main road. It was the same road where her mother took her last breath. And a few feet in front of her was the traffic light her mother sped through.

          Izzy's jaw locked as she flicked her eyes to meet the bright yellow light of the traffic light. There were more lights following it as the road carried on, but Izzy only saw the one. She hated that light almost as much as she hated herself. She wanted to scream at it or do something to rid herself of its mocking gaze. But she couldn't. After all, it was just a light. She couldn't do anything to change the past, but that didn't stop her from trying to out run her memories. She glared at the yellow light, beckoning for it to turn red.

          Go on, her eyes seemed to whisper to the light, and for some reason, it listened to her. She blinked just as it switched to red, and then things were moving too fast and she wasn't in control anymore. Her foot slammed against the accelerator, causing the wheels to squeak against the asphalt before the car sped down the road. The wind smacked her in the face as she passed through red light after red light. She would have kept going too if she hadn't caught sight of a figure walking out in front of her car. Her foot slammed against the brake, shooting her forward as the car skidded against the asphalt. She slammed her hand against the windshield to steady herself, but her thoughts still raced.

           "What the fuck!" she heard a familiar voice yell, but she didn't look up to see who she had almost hit. She was too busy freaking out over the fact she had almost killed someone. Fuck. She had almost killed someone. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. "Izzy Windsor? What is this now . . . the second time you've tried to kill me in the past forty-eight hours? Is this your take on natural selection? 'Cause I gotta' say I'm not a fan."

          It was then Izzy finally allowed herself to glance at who she had almost made into roadkill. And much to her surprise, her eyes landed on none other than JJ Maybank staring at her in shock with his hands pressed against the hood of her car. His blond hair was unruly; tousled and stuck to his forehead from perspiration. His blue eyes stared into hers with an underlying message neither of them could form into words. A gust of wind blew past him and for a split second, Izzy swore she smelt saltwater and weed on his clothes. She found herself wondering if he took a trip to the beach to surf or if he decided to slum it at his friend, John B's house for the day. But then she remembered how his father stole from them and her hatred for the boy resurfaced.

          A blank expression crossed Izzy's face as she moved her sunglasses to the top of her head and looked at the boy in disgust. She wanted him to see the look in her eyes. Just knowing he was aware of her utter distaste for him gave her a thrill. "Watch where you're going, Pogue," she spat like the word left a funny taste on her tongue.

          JJ's shocked expression morphed into a smug look as a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. He squinted his eyes at her and crossed his arms over his chest. "I have a name, you know?" he informed.

          Izzy pursed her lips and shrugged. "Pogue's enough for me."

          JJ scoffed and bit his bottom lip as he shook his head. "Whatever, you don't own the streets, Princess," he lowered his voice on the last word, knowing he'd get a reaction out of the girl. He knew she despised when he mocked her status among the Kooks with that outdated nickname. It made her want to punch him in the face which was exactly why JJ called her it every chance he got.

          Izzy rolled her eyes. "Just get the fuck out of my way, JJ," she spat, her voice like keroscene in her bloodstream.

          JJ's brows shot up high on his forehead. "Oh? So you do know my name," he remarked as a smug smirk slid onto his face.

          The Windsor girl only narrowed her eyes into slits as she slammed the palm of her hand onto the horn of the steering wheel and held down. The piercing sound of the horn blasted through the air, causing bystanders to turn their heads to see what the commotion was about. Izzy paid them no mind. Her eyes were locked on JJ Maybank and his stupid smirk. A laugh escaped JJ's lips as he shot his hands up in surrender and moved out of the way. Izzy followed his movements with her eyes and waited for him to move fully out of her way before she took her hand off the horn. She stuck her hand in the air, shoving her middle finger at him as she pressed her foot down on the accelerator and sped off down the road. As she sped down the street in an empty car, her thoughts reminded her she was alone again, and everything felt normal once more. The only problem: Izzy Windsor hated normal.

a/n: if anybody ships rafe and izzy i'm taking away your rights. he's 100% awful to her as you can see. also don't worry jj will be in the next chapter a lot!! also i know this doesn't make any sense right now but "the only exception" by paramore is jj and izzy's theme song. the end. && i modeled izzy's life after nicola's, so her dad's like a businessman and her mom was a model!!

also i'm putting this in every chapter that rafe is in: so i don't know who needs to hear this, but rafe IS a toxic person. he's a toxic person in the show and he's a toxic person in this fic. i wrote him like this because it's canon to the show. his and izzy's relationship should NOT be romanticized. i am not romanticizing them, and you shouldn't either. so please don't romanticize them. it's not cute. it's not romantic. it's wrong.

thanks for reading!