I knew that after promising to attend Ethan's birthday party, I had to at least show up. It was being held at a popular club in Hollywood, and apparently there were going to be more people there than I had ever even met.

My flight to Connecticut was booked for 4am Saturday morning which meant that, though I would be exhausted, I had time to make an appearance at the party before heading to LAX and, eventually, home to my dad and Sam.

As Ethan and I pulled up outside of the club, I couldn't shake off a feeling of unease. Paparazzi surrounded the red carpet, snapping photos of everyone walking inside.

"It's Ethan and Isabelle!" A photographer shouted, nudging his pal as he clicked his expensive-looking camera at us.

Ethan held my door open for me, smiling in a friendly manner at the paparazzi and thanking them as they wished him a happy birthday. Otherwise, he ignored their questions and jeers and latched onto my hand, pulling me into the club. I was wearing the only party dress I owned, which also happened to be the dress I wore to homecoming in Junior year (yes ladies and gentleman, it still fit) and yet again I found myself feeling out of place.

Ethan invited you, I reminded myself. He wanted you to come.

I wondered briefly if I would ever feel like I belonged here amongst the A-listers-- or if it was something that you just got used to. I guess only time would tell. I had only been here just over three weeks anyway.

As we entered the bustling club, I was awe struck by how huge it was and how many people were here. Neon lights shone down from every angle, and music was pulsing so loudly that I could feel the ground shaking beneath my feet. To my left, there was a table filled with hundreds gifts and cards and bottles of expensive alcohol and, all of a sudden, my hand-drawn gift of coupons that promised Ethan I would do his laundry, cook his meals and wash the dishes for a month felt childish and silly.

"You okay?" Ethan murmured to me at the same time as someone yelled out "SHOTS!".

I nodded, shoving him towards where the crowds were gathering around the bar. "I'm fine. Go have fun with your friends." I forced a smile, and he gave one last lingering look before joining the other party go-ers who were handing out jello shots.

With a sigh I perched on one of the bar stools, ordering my usual glass of lemonade-- that I could always pass off as vodka if I had to-- from the bartender. I must have sat there for at least an hour and a half, watching Ethan getting completely wasted and chuckling every now and then as he said or did something stupid.

"I don't even know what he sees in her." A feminine voice appeared behind me and, thinking she was talking to me, I swivelled around in surprise. I realized a moment later that the girl was actually talking to someone else-- a brunette in the skimpiest silver dress I had ever seen.

"I wouldn't worry about her, Yasmina, you're way prettier than her anyway." The brunette reassured her blonde friend, taking a sip of her margarita.

"Obviously Lulu! But according to GucciGossip Magazine Ethan's, like, totally in love with her. Plus they arrived together! Holding hands!" The blonde, Yasmina, whined.

My interest sparked, and I shuffled a little closer to them to hear more clearly.

Lulu rolled her eyes and downed the rest of the beverage, slamming the glass onto a nearby table. "So what if he is in love with Isabella or whatever her name is? He's over there dancing and does it look like she's with him?"

I ducked my head as the girls glanced around, and then Yasmina shook her head. "No, I guess not..."

"Right. He's drunk, sexy and right at this very moment, he's alone. What are you waiting for? Go and make a move!" Lulu hollered.

Yasmina hesitated for a second before nodding, standing up a little straighter. "You're so right, Lu. Besides, what guy wouldn't want to hook up with me?"

"'Atta girl. Go get him tiger."

I sighed and lay my head down on the bar. So not only was I having a miserable time, but girls I didn't even know hated me and the only person I knew here would most likely be going home with one of them in about five minutes. I glanced over at Ethan, who was now giving a strip-tease on top of bar, twirling his shirt around in the air, and I couldn't help but smile. It was his birthday, he was allowed to have fun.

It was just after 12:30am when I decided that I'd made enough of an appearance to finally leave. I slid my card for Ethan onto the gifts table and made a beeline for the exit. I ignored the photographers hollering at me and threw myself into the first cab I saw. I gave him Ethan and my address and we sped away from the party, leaving the birthday boy and his many admirers behind.

***

"IIIIIIISSSAAAABBBEEEELLLLEEE!" I recognized Sam's voice the second I heard it echoing throughout the airport, even though she was on the other side of the terminal.

I rolled my suitcase past crowds of people until the little brunette girl and her auburn haired girlfriend appeared in front of me, both of their smiles lighting up their faces. 

It had been two months since I'd last seen my friends and family, and I hadn't talked to my dad in longer than I cared to admit. I hadn't even properly explained to him why I had left Princeton and moved to LA. The more I thought about how much I had neglected my loved ones in Connecticut, the guiltier I felt. 

"Sam! Kiely! It's so good to see you both." I pulled them into a bear hug, inhaling the scent of their sweet, familiar perfumes. 

"Isabelle?" I glanced up at the sound of a new voice, and was instantly filled with warmth as I saw my father standing in front of me. 

"Dad!" I grinned, bounding over to throw myself into his arms. He chuckled and kissed the top of my head as he had done so many times before when I was a child. 

"It's good to have you back, kiddo." He informed me, holding me at arm's length and studying my face. 

 "Good to be back, dad." 

A throat cleared behind me, and all four of us whirled around. 

I shrieked. "JC?!" 

He smiled his beautiful, cocky smile, one eyebrow raised. "Hello sweetheart." 

I was filled with so many emotions as we made our way through the airport and into the parking lot, loading my bags and ourselves into dad's car. 

I sat in the back, crammed between the door and JC as everyone filled me in on everything that I had missed in the months I'd been away. So far I'd learnt that Sam was getting straight As in her narrative writing classes at school, Kiely had started an internship at a fashion design office and JC was taking a gap year and working as the assistant football coach at our old high school whilst he decided what he wanted to do in the future.

We slowed to a stand-still at a stop light a few minutes away from my house, and my friends and dad chattered away as I stared out of the window. 

"Is that...?" I trailed off quietly, watching as a figure emerged from a building decorated with a sign that read Davis and Jenson Lawyers. 

"Charles Jones? Yeah." JC murmured, bending his arm so that his elbow concealed his lips. I glanced over at Kiely, Sam and my father, who were all still talking over each other and oblivious to JC and my exchange. Sam leaned over and turned the radio up a few notches, a pop song playing through the speakers. 

"Davis and Jenson... is he finalising the divorce from Amara?" I asked curiously, biting my lip and taking advantage of the loud music to ask JC everything I could. 

JC licked his lips and turned away from me. "Not quite." 

"What do you mean?" 

JC sighed and looked at me again, his eyes dark as he ran slender fingers through his hair. "Nothing, it's just... nothing." 

I fought the urge to roll my eyes and slap him across the face all at once. "JC!" I scolded, and then lowered my voice when Kiely glanced our way. "JC, tell me what's going on." 

He cursed under his breath and stretched out his neck before turning to me and stringing out a few sentences in a hushed whisper. "Charles is just facing some legal issues and Noah's having a hard time with it too. That's all I'm telling you, Issy, just... just ask Noah, okay?" 

JC and I remained in silence for the rest of the journey home, and the atmosphere in the car quickly went from happy-go-lucky to bunch-of-hormonal-teens. As soon as the car stopped outside the house, I whipped my phone out and excused myself to make an important call. Sam and Kiely exchanged a glance as my dad grabbed my suitcase. 

"We'll be inside." He gave me a short smile and unlocked the door, allowing everybody to follow him inside. 

I dialled the number and pressed the phone to my ear, walking around in circles as I waited for him to answer. The line rang and rang and rang and eventually went to voicemail. I sighed in frustration and tried again, to no avail. I dialled at least ten times and, on the eleventh, waited for his voicemail greeting to play.

'Hey you've reached Noah, I can't come to the phone right now but you know what to do.'

I took a deep, steadying breath and tried to rid the anger and frustration from my voice. "Noah, it's me. Isabelle. Maybe I don't have the right to ask you this anymore, but I don't care. I know that there's something going on with you and your dad-- enough for him to need a lawyer-- and I want to know what. I'm sick and tired of being lied to and being the only one out of the loop. I still care about you Noah, even though we broke up, but you need to tell me what's going on."

I pushed back fresh tears, knowing that if I said what I was about to say, there was a real possibility that Noah and I would never see or speak to each other again. "You have until the end of the weekend to call me, Noah, or else I'm going back to LA and starting my life without you. For good."