Chapter 2: The Lake House

We arrive at the lake house—or more like a mansion. The place practically glows against the night sky, perched at the edge of the water like something out of a movie. It’s the kind of place where the rooms seem to go on forever, where every surface gleams and the furniture looks too expensive to touch. Like most kids at our school, Johnny Castile comes from money. The kind that doesn’t blink at renting out lakefront property just to throw a party.

My family does okay, but since the divorce, things have been complicated. My dad’s got a new wife, new kids, and just enough guilt to make sure I never go without—so long as I don’t ask for too much. There’s always a price. He helps me, but it’s always with conditions. And Anna, his wife? She acts like she’s doing me a favor by letting me stay under her roof. Her latest kick is putting me on some kind of diet. I stash snacks in my duffel bag like contraband just to get through the weekends there.

Inside, the music hits like a punch to the chest. Bass booming, voices raised, laughter echoing off the marble floors. The air smells like weed, beer, expensive perfume. Everything about the party is polished and perfect—just like the kids who go to this school. Their trendy clothes, flawless skin, and the way they carry themselves like they’ve never had to worry about anything real. It’s like walking into a catalog I was never meant to be in.

I’ve got my jeans, a black tee, purple streaks tucked under my cap. I’m not here to impress anyone. I don’t even know why I came, except for one reason I can’t seem to shake.

Johnny Castile.

He’s the captain of the wrestling team. Golden boy. Tall, strong, stupidly good-looking. He’s got that effortless kind of cool, but something about him has always seemed… distant. Like he’s only half-playing the role people expect from him. There’s a chip on his shoulder, and it makes him seem tough, like he doesn’t care about fitting in—even though he’s the center of the social universe. I’ve always noticed that about him. How he hangs back sometimes, like he hates the very crowd that adores him.

We’ve talked before. Not much. Choir class. Gym. A hallway conversation here or there. But I remember every second of those moments. The way he looked at me like he was trying to figure something out. The way I felt like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t invisible.

Tonight, I hoped I might see him again. Maybe talk. Maybe laugh. Maybe… something.

But as I move through the house, drink in hand and eyes scanning the crowd, I don’t see him.

Kevin’s off with the football guys. Chastity’s already halfway through her second drink and flirting with some lacrosse player. I try to relax, to look like I belong, but my fingers are clenched tight around my cup. I force myself to sip it. Burned sugar and cheap vodka. It turns my stomach.

“Min, you okay?” Chastity reappears beside me, her voice light but concerned.

“Yeah,” I lie. “Just… looking for someone.”

She smirks. “Johnny?”

I don’t say anything.

She gives me a look. “He’s probably upstairs or outside. You know how he is—Mr. Too Cool for the Crowd.”

I nod, pretending that makes me feel better. It doesn’t.

I spend the next half hour wandering room to room, pretending I’m just checking out the place. I glance toward every doorway, peek out every back patio, glance up every stairwell—hoping. But he’s not there. Not anywhere.

The longer I search, the smaller I feel.

By the time I circle back to the living room, the music feels too loud. The lights are too bright. Everyone is laughing like they’re in on a joke I’ll never understand. I stand there, still, surrounded by noise, feeling like a shadow in a place full of people who shine.

And just like that, I know.

This was a mistake.