"Do you have any idea how mortified we were?"

My mother was practically screaming as she and my father paced in the living room in front of me. To call them livid would be an understatement. When my mother had shaken me awake that morning I'd been half sure she was about to throw me out of the house she was so mad.

"And it's not just that you left, but you slapped Will Dawson!" my mother wailed, throwing her hands into the air as if supplicating the gods for a more malleable and less willful daughter.

"You realize we were asked to leave? In front of all of those people," my father grumbled, unable to look at me.

"I'm sorry, okay? Geez, you'd think you'd take my side in all this instead of throwing me at Will Dawson like I'm a piece of meat!" I snapped, glaring at both of them in turn. My stomach lurched when my words seemed to have no effect whatsoever on them.

"You are grounded, young lady, until you apologize to Will and make amends for your actions!" my mother retorted, "I know I've raised you better than that!"

"You didn't raise me, Rosa did," I said flatly, hopping to my feet and sprinting up the back stairs before either of my parents could say a word. I hoped that hit them hard and deep so they could understand how awful it felt to be pimped out by your own parents.

Grounded. I knew how this would go because I'd seen it happen to Brett countless times. They'd lock my car keys in the safe and freeze my credit cards until I did whatever it was they asked. In Brett's case, it was make the football team in his first year of high school. In their eyes, there was no higher pinnacle of teen success than to be a starter on the school team. Apparently in my case it was to kiss up to the rich asshole so that one day I might land him as a husband. Considering that was never, ever in a million years going to happen, I had to come up with some sort of plan so I wouldn't be forced to be a recluse for the rest of my high school life. But I couldn't stop my brain from running circles around the idea that my parents clearly thought the only way I could succeed in life was by landing a rich man. I wanted to dig up my last report card and throw it in their pompous faces so they could see the parade of A's and B's that any college applicant would kill to have.

I stormed into Brett's room and collapsed on his couch with a huff. He and Brandon didn't even look up from their video game.

"And?" Brett asked finally, his eyes riveted to the screen. He'd figured out that I'd left Will's party early and of my own accord, but he still had no idea exactly what had transpired the night before.

"Grounded," I groaned, rolling over to watch whatever carnage they were creating on the screen.

"Until?" he prompted.

"Until forever. Because there's no way in hell I'm apologizing. Will deserved to be slapped and I'll stand by that until the day I die," I replied, rolling back over and staring up at the ceiling. The game binged on the screen and I looked over to see two sets of eyes on me.

"They want you to apologize?" Brandon demanded, livid, at the exact same moment Brett said, "You slapped him?"

"Okay, what's going on? What happened that I don't know about?" Brett asked, shooting Brandon a look as he set down his controller. I blew out my cheeks and recounted the whole tale, from Will pawing at me all the way up to the cocaine episode. By the time I'd finished, Brett was on his feet.

"If they think you're ever setting foot near that jerk again, they have another thing coming," he growled, his footsteps pounding down the back staircase. Brandon and I shot each other wide-eyed looks as a shouting match ensued downstairs.

"Listen, last time they grounded your brother they took his car," Brandon said, standing and awkwardly massaging the back of his neck, "So if you need a lift anywhere, or anything really, just let me know,"

I smiled, my expression softening for the first time since my rude awakening that morning.

"Thanks Brandon," I said, giving him a quick squeeze, "I hope they'll come to their senses soon, but until then I have some damage control to get to,"

"Yeah of course," he said, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets as he watched me leave. The yelling had abated somewhat downstairs and while I hoped Brett was able to argue my case, I wasn't holding my breath. There was nothing my parents hated more than when we ganged up on them because then it was almost a fair fight.

I fished my phone out of my hoodie pocket and collapsed on my bed, firing off a bevy of texts to Courtney, Deanna, and Tyler. I'll admit that I was marginally disappointed when the first of them to call me back was Courtney and not my favorite surfer.

"They took my car!" I wailed in greeting as I picked up the phone. Courtney echoed with a moan of her own from the other end.

"Are you serious? For how long?" she wailed back.

"Until I make up with Will," I muttered.

"Then just make up with him and get your car back!" she said after a beat, as if she'd just thought up the most brilliant plan in the history of all plans.

"If I had to choose between being grounded for the rest of my life and having to kiss and make up to Will Dawson, I think I'll become a shut in," I said, "Besides, I'm pretty sure you did enough partying last night for the two of us,"

Courtney moaned in reply.

"I'm pretty sure there's a small man with a jackhammer inside my head," she said, "I've been in bed all morning,"

"Well at least your hangover was from a fun night," I muttered.

"He did see you, you know," she said quietly, "Tyler, I mean,"

And as if my morning couldn't have been bad enough, the memory that he'd left Deanna's party with Katie smacked me right in the face.

"Whatever," I muttered, throwing an arm over my eyes.

"No seriously," she continued, "He was going on and on about how he had to leave early all night. He saw you, but you showed up so late and in such a state..."

"Still doesn't change the fact that he had enough time to give Katie a lift home," I remarked bitterly.

"Only because Amber was being a total B and abandoned her when some Crescent U guy picked her up," Courtney said, her tone suggesting I shut down my pity party, "You know Tyler's a nice guy, what was he supposed to do? Say no?"

"Hell yes!" I snapped, "Especially if he saw me and saw what a wreck I was last night! He should've driven me home!"

"You don't need to bite my head off, okay? Geez!" Courtney snapped back, "And besides, Katie's not after Tyler anymore, not since Will's back on the market,"

"Katie's after Will?" I asked, a pit opening in my stomach.

"Well yeah! Did you not know how badly she reacted when she heard you were his date to the gala?" Courtney said.

"Oh Courtie," I moaned, "That is like the opposite of reassuring,"

"Why? You just said yourself that you'd rather be grounded than date Will. What do you care if Katie goes for him?" she asked. I sighed.

"And what would be the worst way for Katie to get back at me?" I asked, leading her to the conclusion I'd already reached.

"I dunno, make out with Tyler?" I heard the comprehension dawn in her voice as she spoke.

"Precisely," I mumbled, feeling a rotten sense of foreboding. Maybe that's why Tyler hadn't texted me back yet...

"Oh Maddie now you're just overanalyzing this. I really doubt she'd do that all because of one party," Courtney said finally.

"She's Katie, I wouldn't exactly put it past her," I scoffed. We both knew Katie's reputation was far from pure.

"I really don't get why you hate her so much," Courtney said, "She's not any more mean than you or me!"

I paused.

"What are you saying?" I asked slowly.

"I mean...okay, we all know Deanna's the queen bitch of our year, but Katie's not any worse than you or me or Tierra. She's just really likes making out with guys,"

You're just like them, an egotistical, self-absorbed bitch...

Ethan's words floated unbidden through my head, that pit in my stomach opening even more. Was Courtney right? Was I really no better than Katie?

"Courtie, do you really think we're mean?" I asked. There was silence on the other end.

"Not like, super mean, no," she said finally, "Why?"

"I dunno...because sometimes I feel like all our friends are just spoiled rich brats," I admitted slowly, gauging her reaction. I kicked myself when I was met with silence.

"Please tell me you're joking right?" she asked, a forced laugh in her voice, "Are you sure you're not the one who's crazy hungover?"

"Yeah of course," I replied too quickly, "Sorry, I'm just still all messed up from last night..."

I cast my mind about for a distraction.

"Did you know Will's a cokehead by the way?" I said, baiting my best friend with gossip so she wouldn't read too much into my Ethan-induced existential crisis. As predicted, she bit and I recounted the whole story yet again. By the time we'd hung up so she could get to ballet, I was sure she'd already composed a group text to the other A girls with all the details from last night.

Unable to shake the uneasy feeling, I rolled onto my stomach and scrolled through my call history. I tried the number I was looking for, but there was no answer. With a sigh, I waited for the beep after his voicemail greeting.

"Ethan, it's Maddie," I paused, not sure where I wanted to go with this, "I...uh, well, I guess I just wanted to say thank you for coming to get me last night. And...and I'm sorry. I think you were right, that stuff you said about...well, whatever. Bye,"

I hung up before I bared my soul on Ethan Wheeler's voicemail. So maybe his words had been hanging around in my head all morning, as my parents yelled at me for rejecting the advances of a total asshole because his riches should've trumped his creep factor. And maybe they'd hit a little too close to home as my best friend told me I was pretty much on par with the girl I considered the meanest, sneakiest, cruelest of the A's. I rubbed my eyes, confusion swirling in my head.

I was about to unlock my phone to call Tyler when there was a knock at my door. Bracing myself for another onslaught of parental discipline, I almost flipped off my bed when Brandon poked his head into my very untidy, clothes-strewn-everywhere room.

"Wait!" I practically shrieked, dive-rolling off the bed to where a pair of lacy bras were drying on a rack near my closet. I shoved the whole thing in, slamming the door as Brandon watched me with a quirked eyebrow and a grin.

"Think I've never seen a bra before?" he asked, when I turned around to face him.

"Not one of mine," I replied with a grin, pushing the hair out of my face, "What's up?"

"The cross-examination continues," he said, moving around to flop onto my couch, flicking on the TV. I groaned.

"I should probably go back him up," I said, making for the door. Brandon stopped me, grabbing me around the waist and dragging me down onto the couch next to him.

"It's rude to leave a guest to fend for himself," he said flatly, once I'd squirmed and complained my way off of him.

"Well it's rude to treat your host like a duffel bag!" I countered, crossing my arms with a huff. Brandon smiled.

"Gym bag smell," he said, snapping his fingers as he pointed at me, "You'll have to forgive me Maddie, but it was an honest mistake. You really do smell like a-"

I cut him off by slamming him with a pillow.

"Rude!" I shouted, throwing whatever soft object I could get my hands on his way. Brandon was laughing in earnest now, flinging back whatever I threw at him. When I ran out of ammunition, I got up and made a break for the pillows in my bedroom, only to have Brandon snag me by the arm and drag me backwards towards the couch again. I dug my heels in, fighting him, only to realize I stood no chance against over six feet of muscle. He wasn't expecting me to give up resisting and the force of his pull toppled us both back onto the couch. We fell in a tangle of limbs, my knee connecting with his leg as I collapsed on top of him.

"Wow, sorry," I laughed, unable to catch my breath because I was laughing so hard. Brandon shook his head, laughing too. Our eyes met and the laughter died on both of our lips as we realized what had happened. I was lying on top of him, his face just inches from mine. And as if that wasn't bad enough, my phone started to ring as Brett's unmistakable gait thumped up the stairs.

"I should get that," I said as we leaped apart. I pushed stray blonde hair from my face, realizing how completely bad this would look to Brett. Disheveled clothes, messy hair, a room in disarray...and his best friend caught in the middle of it.

"Yeah, I'd better go calm your brother down," Brandon said, running a hand through his hair. I nodded as I reached for the phone and tried in vain to fix my hair with my free hand. Pretty much all of it had come loose from the ponytail I'd hastily pulled on that morning.

"And I'd better..."I started, staring down at my phone to see who was calling. But my brain couldn't string the letters together into words as the flush crept even higher up my neck. My mind was too preoccupied replaying my tumble onto my brother's best friend.

"And Maddie?" he said, hesitating in the doorway. I looked up from the phone, my eyes blank as my mind reeled.

"Sorry about the mess," he said, gesturing towards the pillows and stuffed animals strewn about the room. Trying to shake off the stupor, I rolled my eyes with a grin.

"Get lost, loser. You didn't win!" I managed, trying to keep the flutter from my voice. When he was finally gone, I sat back down on the sofa, throwing my head back as I reviewed what exactly had just happened with my brother's best friend. Had we almost...?

My phone exploded to life yet again, ripping me from my thoughts and doing nothing to calm my racing nerves.

"Yes?" I answered, not even checking who was calling. I pressed a hand to my burning cheeks as I tried to shake off the encounter.

"Maddie, there you are! So I totally meant to call you before this!"

My blush rose even warmer into my cheeks as Tyler's voice echoed through my phone.

"I'm deeply offended at your lack of consideration Mr. Raines," I replied, feigning disdain. Anything to distract me and stop my mind from raking over just what that whole little pillow war/tackling episode had meant.

"Aww is Maddie mad?" he asked. I could tell he was making a puppy face on the other end, "If it means anything to you, you looked sexier than a Bond Girl last night..."

"Yeah yeah," I muttered, smiling despite myself, "And I think I owe you a congratulations Mr. Surf-God!"

"You flatter my ego," he said, the smile audible in his voice, "Listen, what are you up to tonight?"

"Nothing. I'm grounded for slapping Will Dawson," I sighed.

"You slapped him?" Tyler laughed, "Man, I'll have to watch myself around you, you little spitfire!"

"He's an asshole and he deserved it," I said, "But now I'm grounded with no car,"

"Then I'm coming over, because I have big news!" he said. I shot a look at myself in the full-length mirror on the opposite side of the room, horrified at the state of my hair and lack of makeup.

"You can't just tell me over the phone?" I asked, panicked as I glanced at the clock. I could hear that Tyler was in his car and if he was anywhere in Clairview, he'd be here in under ten minutes.

"Not a chance. Be there in ten!" he said, "And don't you dare put on a stitch of makeup, I literally just got back to town and I'm still reeking of ocean. If you do, I'll feel woefully underdressed,"

"Give me twenty!" I pleaded, leaping up from the floor and beelining to the bathroom.

"Watch it or I'll step on it and be there in five!" he threatened. I yelped.

"Fine! But don't ring the bell unless you want my parents rage unleashed!" I said.

"Got it, princess. See you soon!" he said, before hanging up.