In Every Universe | Quinn Hughes

Prologue

One Year Ago

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Lily

Myles Tellers parties were always crazy. From the red cups littering the floor no matter where you turned, alcohol flowing whether we were underage or not, even the occasional fist fight on the front lawn. These parties were the parties you dream about getting invited to in High School. Music thumped in my ears, ringing in my mind as I stumbled over my own feet, unsure of where my friends had gone, or how the dude beside me ended up with his arm around my waist.

I'd lost count of how many drinks I'd had, and for some reason I couldn't find my phone. Maybe Anna had it? I was sort of over the party, and wanted to get the hell out of here, but with no phone and no friends, I had no way home.

I thought for a moment, trying to come up with a way to get out of here on my own and find my phone, but when my fuzzy mind couldn't form any logical way to make both happened, I shrugged to myself and settled on just going home.

Pushing my way through the house of sloppy teens, I shoved past the group of hockey boys, ignoring the hollers and screams as they mucked around doing whatever it is that teenage boys do. I could finally see the door, but I also noticed one thing, the boy with his arm around my waist had followed me out, smirking and sort of looking like a total creep.

"Can I help you?" I asked, a bit of bite to my words as I raised a single eyebrow at the boy.

He shrugged lazily. "Was just following you."

"Well, I'm going home," I tell him blankly, trying to shrug his hand off my waist. "Alone."

He rolls his eyes. "Aren't you meant to be like, the class whore?"

Ah yes, because that's how you win a girl over. I shove him off, scowling at him. "No, I'm not, asshole."

Then I'm stomping my way out onto the cup littered lawn with a frown and my arms crossed over my chest. Of course, I'd be known as a whore, that's what Alex would have told everyone after I broke things off with him. It's not my fault I didn't want to sleep with him and he thought that was a crime. I'm only seventeen, and I'm not ready. My choice.

Alex was one of the boys who thought of himself as a prince of the school, along with the rest of the hockey team. Reason A-Z that I avoided them.

Now that I was outside, staring back at the house and the vandalised sedan in the driveway that read Congratulations Class of 18' with multiple hearts and smiley faces, I realised one pretty critical thing.

I didn't know how to get home.

Myles didn't live in my area—in fact, he didn't live in anyone's area—the rich son of a bitch, and I didn't have my phone.

I looked left, then right, before deciding on going left, and hoping for the best. I cursed Anna for forcing me into wearing her block stilettos, because now my feet were killing and this dress was riding up and my hair was giving me a headache in this high pony.

The first thing I did as pull my hair free and shake it out, probably not doing much for the prostitute look I had going on as I walked the streets at sometime in the early hours of morning.