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Lights seep through the transparent windows of the large mansion-like estate. Jade stares in disbelief at the house as her sister finds a quaint makeshift parking spot on the only patch of grass left.

Various cars are parked in a disorderly manner, littering the front yard of the home. The music from the inside of the house vibrates through the walls, giving Jade and Melanie the ability to physically feel the intensity of the music blasting.

"How do you know this person?" Jade asks, slightly tensing up. Her social anxiety was activated. It has been something she struggled with throughout the entirety of her life. In the midst of large crowds, she gets a feeling of constriction, or what many may call, a bad case of claustrophobia. Her breathing slows down and she feels like she is unable to respirate. The only things that aid in the prevention of such attacks, is the comfort of being around familiar people. A party full of unfamiliar faces was not helping.

Her sister being there for her everywhere she went was such a big part of Jade being able to repress this extreme case of agoraphobia.

"I don't." This candid response from Melanie earns her a bewildered stare from her little sister. Melanie faces the large house, but she can sense the look on Jade's face through her peripheral view. It's a look that she has gotten used to. "It's all about connections, Jade," Melanie finishes, cockily.

"I could care less about your connections. I wanna go home," Jade declares with a pout forming on her soft tan skin. She crosses her arms adding to her resoluteness.

"You're not going home. You need to have fun Jade." Melanie sings while harmlessly gripping the younger's upper arm. "Jade you need to make friends. I'm not always gonna be there for you." Melanie states sincerely.

"So you want me to make friends with a bunch of irresponsible and reckless teenagers, instead?" Jade questions, raising her eyebrow to challenge her sister's point.

"Yes?" Melanie replies quizzically, unsure if that's exactly what she meant. "Just get your ass out of the car before I physically pull you out this time." Melanie turns her back to Jade and makes her way out of the vehicle. Jade rolls her eyes once more, before obliging to her sister's command.

"You know if you keep rolling your eyes like that, they'll get stuck," Melanie states bitterly as pulls the keys out of the ignition.

"If that's the case, then your ass should be cross-eyed by now," Jade combats, knowing that her sister is the primary source of this passed down habit.

Jade hops out of the Jeep, begrudgingly. She decides to leave her book in the car because she doesn't know what will go on in this house full of hormonal human beings.

Once Melanie opens the front door, mayhem is all Jade sees as she stands behind her sister. Over to her right, there is a boy with a ski mask on, riding down the beige carpeted stairs with an electric-blue mini-surfboard. On her left, there is a girl doing a keg stand, with what seems like her friends, struggling to keep her inverted. Directly behind the girl attempting a keg stand, there are a couple of individuals just making out with signature Solo red cups glued to their hands.

The music continues to blast throughout the entirety of the house, threatening to pop Jade's eardrums. The music seems slightly familiar to Jade, but since it's blasting at the highest volume possible, the words are incoherent. The beat is the only recognizable aspect of the song.

Jade feels her body vibrate along with the bass of the music. Her heart rate quickens as the crowded environment attempts to suffocate her. Right there and then she truly realizes that this is not her thing. She turns to say something to her sister, but there is no one beside her anymore. Melanie disappears into the abyss of people.

"Move bitch!" A girl screams as she bumps into Jade's side. She is being dragged along by this blonde male. Jade is startled, but before she could identify the culprit, the girl has already past her, lost in the large throng of individuals that consume the main room.

Jade decides to go find a seat, so she can sit this one out. Her sister was her only ride home and she couldn't just leave her here.

She rounds the corner of the main hallway and finds a quaint little parlor room. The room consists of fancy antique items and various pieces of luxurious furniture. Jade contemplates whether or not she wants to invade the homeowner's precious chamber. Her eyebrows knit showing her intense focus. Her ability to overthink seems to almost be god-given.

She finally makes her decision and settles down into a red velvet arm chair that resides in the back corner of the perfectly square-shaped room. The cushion is obviously memory foam which added to the settling experience. She breathes out enjoying the semi-silence. The music is still heard blasting through the walls of the room, but it was muffled making it not as bad as being out in the main room.

After a couple of minutes in the chair, Jade is consumed by complete and utter boredom.

There is a mahogany polished bookcase that consumes one side of the compact room. Being the bookworm that she is, she couldn't help but gravitate towards this holy grail she just so happened to stumble upon.

The first book that seems to catch her eye, is a book by the name of "To Kill a Mockingbird". Jade immediately had a flashback to when she first read the book in eighth grade. What really captivated her about this piece of literature was the theme of discrimination. She despises the idea of mistreating people just because they didn't fit into the social mold or norm.

This story especially hit home at that time because that was when she started feeling different from the social norm. She began occupying feelings for the same sex. It's been something she has always battled with, but has never addressed with her family. She hasn't felt comfortable nor confident enough in herself to come out.

She pulls the book from its solidified space on the shelf and observes every inch of the book, as if she had never seen it before. She flips and turns the book, checking for any damages. After her quick assessment, she comes to the conclusion that the book owner takes care of their books. Once again, being the book lover she is.

Jade pulls open the cover and quickly flips through the beginning redundant pages, until she reaches the page that clearly states the beginning of the first chapter. She fully immerses herself into the book as if reading it for the first time.

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Kinsey leans against the granite countertop of the island in the abnormally large kitchen. She drinks her second beer of the night, periodically. Clusters of people surround her, making her stick out like a sore thumb, since she stood their alone. Her best friend, James, is over in the corner of the dining room, sucking some random girl's face. It's what he did best.

The dancing bodies make sure to steer clear of even nudging Kinsey Scott in the slightest way. It appears as if an invisible force field surrounds this girl. She is the badass of Kingsman Bounty High and she usually lets it be known through her aggressive and outspoken voice.

Most of the time, Kinsey didn't give a shit about what people thought of her. She's become used to all the shit talking by now, being the only female football player and all. The criticisms just seemed to fly over her head.

She enjoys having a good time, but not with all these random people that seemed to always overestimate their drinking capacity and end up vomiting profusely in the presence of their peers at the end of the night. Parties simply disgusted her.

She stands there unamused by the activity going on within the party.

"These fuckers are lame," Kinsey seethes through her teeth after she takes another swig of her flat beer. She decides this part of the house is too boring, so she goes to explore the rest of the home.

A particular room catches her attention on her way down the hallway. Specifically, the girl inside the room. The creme-framed glass French doors allows Kinsey to spot a certain girl with wavy brunette locks, reading.

"Why the fuck is she reading at a party?" Kinsey questions, reasonably.

She hesitates to pull down on the chestnut-colored door handle with her free hand. Her hand hovers over, unable to make a decision. Then, a compelling force pushes her to open the door gradually. The creaking that expels from the door opening, causes the female that was reading peacefully, to jerk, nearly dropping the piece of literature onto the carpeted flooring of the room.

"Reading at a party? That must be a new low."

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