Disloyalty

- 3 -

Couple months later

It had been six years since Andrew and I first met on that beach. Six years of shared laughter, secrets, and countless memories that made him feel like more than a friend—like home.

Now, as I got ready for my 16th birthday party, I wondered if he would still feel that way. My Sweet 16 was supposed to be a milestone, a celebration—but somehow, I always felt like something was waiting to ruin it.

I spent the day preparing obsessively. The decorations, the music playlist, even the sweet bowls—everything had to be perfect. My devil costume was a red dress with lace-up heels, silver hoop earrings, and bold makeup. My mom had insisted I go all out, and even though it wasn't my usual style, I had to admit I liked the way I looked.

By 8 PM, guests started arriving, costumes ranging from classic monsters to movie characters. Megan, of course, made her entrance like she owned the room. Sparkling angel dress, perfectly tilted halo, wings that practically screamed look at me. She strutted in, drawing attention from everyone in the room.

"Happy birthday, MEEEEA!" she shouted, pulling me into a tight hug that almost knocked me over. Her perfume was overpowering, but I couldn't help but laugh. Megan had a way of making everyone feel like extras in her personal show.

"I got you something," she said, handing me a glittery gift bag. Inside was a charm bracelet with a heart-shaped pendant engraved with my initials. I slid it onto my wrist and smiled. "It's perfect."

"Of course it is. Now, let's make sure everyone knows you're the star tonight," Megan said, dragging me to the dance floor. Her energy was contagious.

For a while, everything felt perfect. Music, lights, laughter—everyone letting loose. A group of kids had found a hidden stash of party punch and shots, and soon the room was buzzing with the smell of alcohol. Even Andrew took a drink, which surprised me at first. Not because he wasn't allowed, but because he'd always been the responsible one.

"You've been quiet tonight," I said, tugging at his sleeve. He handed me a plastic cup with a dark red liquid.

"I'm just... observing," he said, voice low, eyes scanning the room. He took a sip.

I hesitated, then laughed. "Oh, come on. It's my birthday. Have fun." I lifted my own cup, already a little tipsy from the punch. The alcohol made me lightheaded, but in a good way—like I could float above all the drama of life.

Megan swooped in again, twirling around me like a whirlwind. "Mia, darling! Let me introduce you to everyone. You need to bask in your glory tonight!" She leaned in close. "Also, I brought the party favors." She handed me a tiny bottle of something strong-smelling. I sniffed it. "Yeah... sure, thanks," I said, but she'd already twirled away, the center of attention once more.

The living room was chaos now. The music thumped so hard it made my chest vibrate, the lights flickering with the beat. Some of the younger kids were already giggling uncontrollably, while the older teens were forming cliques, sharing drinks and daring each other into increasingly ridiculous challenges.

 A boy in a skeleton costume challenged another guest to chug an entire cup of punch without breathing. They ended up coughing and spitting it out, and everyone around them cheered, completely unbothered by the mess.

Megan had claimed the kitchen as her throne. She waved people over like a queen commanding her court. "You there! Refill my cup, and don't you dare skimp on the tequila!" she called over her shoulder. I rolled my eyes, trying not to get sucked into her whirlwind energy—but it was hard. She drew attention effortlessly, everyone eager to be near her, laughing at her jokes even when they weren't funny.