Chapter 1

(Annalise)

“My date for the prom night? It's Lucas Wayne! He'll be here in a few minutes.” The school belle, Miranda, squealed as her clique surrounded her, all dressed to the nines. Who didn't know Lucas Wayne? He was the coolest of the popular Wayne triplets, trended on the internet for weeks over drinking a glass of water. Lucas was the leader of his football team, and won a couple of awards effortlessly which earned him the title “ Soccer Alpha.”

I walked past Miranda in my knee-length blue evening gown and tripped, almost landing on my butt.

“Watch it, loser.” Miranda's soft voice echoed in the hallway as I steadied myself quickly, rubbing my sweaty hands on my dress. Ever since my first day at school, the nickname had stuck to my body like glue, pushing my real name aside. I never liked the name, but I never stood up to it. I simply ignored it.

Like every other day, I ignored Miranda and walked forward, heading towards the hall for the prom night. My bunkmate, Stephanie, had left me with no choice by bringing her fuck buddies into the room. I couldn't concentrate with her loud moans cutting through the air so I left, dragging my ass to the prom night instead.

Everyone walked in pairs.

Their glamorous dresses and exquisite tuxedos almost blurred my vision. I wasn't good with colors, but I could practically form a rainbow with the several colors I had seen here. It was magical. You'd know you were at a party when disco lights were everywhere and your eardrums were close to kissing the world goodbye. Golden strings of lights lined up the whole room, and confetti littered the whole floor. The music swelled and diminished as the large doors opened and closed, and the sight of people laughing and giggling was enough to make my stomach sink.

Standing next to the entrance, I clutched my dress as I glanced around, feeling a slight prick along the back of my neck. Coming to the prom night seemed like a bad idea. Already, I couldn't fight off the feeling of dread crawling up my spine. Finding a few glasses of wine lined up at a table a few meters away, I walked forward, blowing out a series of short breaths to gain control. There was nothing a glass of wine couldn't fix. That was my thought until my path got blocked by two familiar faces, a smug smile playing on their lips. Dickson and Peterson. My biggest bullies.

I sucked in a breath and turned in the other direction, but they blocked my path again, folding their arms as they stared at me. Dickson stepped forward, towering over me with his large, athletic frame. He was about six feet tall, wasn't sure about his exact height, but he was the type who could score extra-pointers to join a basketball team. One would assume we were a couple with our matching sky-blue outfits, but I'd rather leave the prom than wear matching outfits with him.

“You're standing in my way.”

“Oh! Loser said we're standing in her way.” Dickson’s baritone voice got the attention of a few students, mostly girls. They chuckled at my ridiculous nickname as they hugged their dates tightly. Great. I knew this night was far from perfect. Dickson leaned a little closer, ruffling my bangs, You should have thought about that before deciding to match my outfit.”

Peterson rolled his eyes, “poor loser badly wants a date, you seem like the perfect dream man.” He was on the leaner side, skinny rather. He was far from being athletic. He tilted his head as he sized me up, “or Loser–” I raised my head to stare at him, “got a date this time?”

Pressing my lips together, I turned in the other direction—out of the prom hall—and walked away, but I was yanked backward with a full force that made me collide against a rock-hard surface. Turning slightly, I realized it was Peterson's chest.

“And where do you think you're going?” Dickson snapped, his voice dripping with disdain.

A few girls were starting to gather around us, and I could feel my heart pick up its pace. Blending with the crowd and avoiding public spaces was my thing, the heavens knew about that. Being tagged as a loser wasn't a problem, but being on the front page of the school magazine for the prom night was– I could already guess the headlines.

"LOSER MATCHES OUTFITS WITH DICKSON JONES," the fit’s coach.

While a few students pulled out their phones to start taking pictures, I placed my palm over my face, turning my head to the sides, You don't want to be on the headlines with me? Then help me get out of the prom. I'll get rid of the dress as soon as I reach my dorm.”

Dickson's lips curled into a mischievous smirk as he tilted his head, folding his arms carefully. He slowly turned to face the students, urging them to take more pictures, How about you get rid of the dress now, loser? It's such an eyesore. I wonder how you got the dress when your mother's so fucking sick.”

While Peterson held me in place, I bared my teeth at him, Leave my mother out of this.” I spat, feeling a knot tightening in my stomach. So what if my mother was sick? So what if I got into the prestigious High School by scholarship? So what if I was never going to fit in?

Peterson’s creepy laughter sent a chill down my spine, Your mother's six feet under in a few months max, stop clinging onto hope.”

“Privileged people do.” Dickson chimed in, grinning from ear to ear, "But they're broke ass poor, her mother can't afford her own treatment.” He pointed out, and the whole crowd erupted into a fit of laughter. The loud music playing in the background stopped a while ago and the stage light was suddenly fixed on me, almost blinding my vision.

My eyes grew wet as my vision blurred, “don't talk about my mother that way.” My voice trembled, my limbs tingling with fatigue. The doctor had said the same thing about her condition, her life was gradually fading away, but that didn't mean I was willing to give up her health. I'd take more part-time jobs, skip classes, and do anything to get her to smile at me again.

While Dickson took a step towards me, the crowd cheered on, Stripp! Strip! Strip! Strip!”

My eyes widened.

I could literally feel my blood slowly draining from my face. “No! Don't come near me.” I shook my head, but Dickson's smile widened, Let's make this year's prom a memorable one.” as he reached for my dress, loud gasps suddenly filled the air.

The large doors were pushed open, followed by heavy footsteps and large squeals, Ohh my God! It's them! The triplet Alphas!”

Dickson tore his gaze from mine, and I did the same, staring at the trio who made the prom hall their runway. Their strides were slow but confident, and even with the time that I had spent in Hollymoor High School, I still couldn't pinpoint who was who. The triplet Alphas. Landon, Luca, and Logan.

They grabbed the attention of everyone, including mine as well. I felt my knees weakening as my heart slammed hard against my ribcage. I took deeper breaths to slow my heartbeat, but my little trick didn't work this time. I felt compelled to stare at them, glued to their whole being.

What in the world was happening?

They approached us and I gulped, wondering if I had committed an offense. Peterson's hold remained on me and he finally let go of me when they were just a short distance away. I felt three pairs of eyes on me. Their gaze was deep, piercing,g and alluring, holding me spellbound. My body froze momentarily as they yelled, “Mate!!” simultaneously.