My name is Tyla Roma. I always follow the rules. I always respect other people. I am always a good girl.
There is just one exception.
Finn Goodfellow.
When I'm with him, I'm a different person. I unleash a me I never knew I had. There's just something about that guy that's so intoxicating.
And I love it.


1. The Party


The music was booming so loudly I could barely hear myself think over the loud noise of people socializing. This was my first ever high school party and I was excited... but now I'm getting doubtful. I did expect alcohol but not this much. I did expect people making out on couches but not that much. I did expect music but not this loud.

I gave my friend slash escort a nervous laugh. Violet smiled and handed me a cup. I eyed the cup suspiciously. No doubt it was alcohol. I handed the cup back to Violet. She frowned and gave it back to me. 

'Just one sip, Tyla. One.' she pleaded.

'Violet! I'm not drinking-'

But then she tackles me and pours the entire content of the cup into my mouth. I kick and thrash around but it's no use. Violet's been taking taekwondo lessons, no way I could compete with that. When the brown liquid enters my mouth I want to hurl. As it makes it's way through my throat I taste something vaguely familiar. 

'Violet!' I spray the drink at my friend's face. 

'Ew! Gross! Now I've got spit on my hair!' she complains. 

'Ugh, stop being such a priss.' I spit. 'This isn't alcohol, Violet, it's-'

Before I can finish my sentence, I'm tugged away by a force much stronger than Violet. I look up and I see a well-built male figure about the same age as me (15 if you're wondering). I remember the face from somewhere. I can't put my finger on it though. 

He takes me to a bedroom and at first, I thought he was going to do something bad to me. I look around. It's just your average boy's room. There's a window on the other side of the room for my quick escape. 

'Hey,' he whispers, 'you're Tyla, right?'

'And why should I tell you?' I retort.

'Tell me or you're never getting out of my house.'

And then it hits me. This guy is Finn Goodfellow! The boy from my school. He's one of the smartest guys in class! Next to me, of course. 

'Yeah, I'm Tyla. You can call me Ty though. Less use of breath.' I smile nervously. He has never looked this attractive before. His black, chin-length hair has been pulled back in a ponytail and his red plaid shirt is half unbuttoned, showing his six-pack.

'You're probably wondering why you're here.'

'Oh no,' I sarcastically reply, 'just two teens who never met. In one room. Talking like best buddies!'

Finn laughs. 'Very funny, Ty. But no.' he shows me a cup of that brown liquid. 'What do you think this is?'

'Um, alcohol. Why?'

'Believe it or not, Ty, it's not.' he reaches forward and tucks a loose hair behind my ear. 

'I knew it wasn't alcohol!' I smile. 'You made some sort of liquid-'

'- to see how much people actually act wasted.'

'Yeah!' I'm beaming now. This guy I can actually feel good around. We have the same kind of thinking and we both have the same ideas.

'You're very smart, Ty.' he says, taking a step closer. I can smell his cologne. It's intoxicating.

'You seem to like my name, Finn.'

'I like a lot of things, Ty.' 

'So,' I looked away, just before he was about to make a move on me. 'Why am I here anyway? Don't you have a party to attend to?'

'Yeah,' he smiles, 'a party...'

'You should get to that then...' I mutter. 'I was about to head home anyway.'

'Need a lift?' he asks. He picks up something from his dresser and takes my hand. 'Let's go.'

'Um...' I look down.

Finn notices my sudden interest in my purple converse sneakers. 'You do know that whatever you say, I'll still be driving you home?'

'Yeah, probably.' I sigh.

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