I Left My A Rank Party Rain Novels & Stories

I use the remaining strength left in my half-frozen, half-shocked body and rush toward the building, seeking shelter and, more importantly, a hideout, as flashlights begin flickering through every window. A swarm of butterflies does a happy dance in my stomach when I confront the overflowed crowd exiting the building, passing beside me and getting exposed to the rainfall as they all race toward their vehicles. In wonder, I stand still on the lawn, not caring about the rain mercilessly hitting my skin. Instead, I am lost in pride and self-satisfaction, so excited watching Caden’s party burn to the ground as the poor, half-naked partygoers scream over the icy rain while running for shelter.

It was the eighth year of my marriage. As I was driving my daughter to school, I took a call on speaker. "Is this Mr. Andrew Benedict? Your wife, Ms. Clara Miller, left her diamond ring in our executive suite." My hands froze on the wheel. Andrew was my husband. Clara was my best friend. I rushed to my brother's office, desperate to prove it was a mistake. He didn't even look up from his desk. He wasn't surprised at all. "Summer, drop it," my brother, Aaron Walter, said calmly. "They have a child together now. Just pretend you don't know. "He lied to you to spare your feelings," he added. "We all kept quiet for your own good." I felt my blood cold as it ran through my veins. "He's r

By the time Kenneth Ford finally showed up, I was already soaked through. He wasn't alone. There was a girl under his umbrella, and at well over six feet tall, Kenneth had enough height to shield her almost completely from the rain. He'd tilted the umbrella so far toward her that one side of his shirt was getting drenched, but he didn't seem to care. He just smiled and let her stay tucked safely beside him. Then he saw me, and the smile on his face disappeared. "Sorry, I'm late," he muttered. The girl beside him immediately turned to me. "Hannah, it's my fault. I've gotten so used to sharing Kenneth's umbrella that I asked him to walk me home. And honestly, being tucked up against him m

At our class reunion, my so-called best friend, Shannon Drew, pulled out a box stuffed with folded notes. A line was taped across the top— [Draw one of Mia Martinez's hopeless-romantic quotes.] The room burst out laughing. Someone pulled a love letter I'd written to Damien Byford senior year. "Damien smiled at me today. I want to give him all my tomorrows, too." Someone else grabbed one from college. "It's okay if he doesn't text back. He'll think of me when he's not busy." Damien had never replied to a single letter. I'd always figured he'd tossed them years ago. Then Shannon drew letter No. 99. Leaning against Damien, she laughed as she read, "If you ever decide you don't want m

Bianca Within moments, the light drizzle had turned into a proper downpour. Fat raindrops hammered down on the square, sending people shrieking and laughing as they scattered for cover. Benjamin appeared at my side, rainwater already plastering his graying hair to his forehead. “The party will move to the tavern,” he called over the sound of the rain. “At least until this passes.” I nodded, then turned toward Isaac, who was still standing nearby. The rain was coming down so hard now that I could barely make him out through the downpour, his golden hair dark and slicked against his head.