Like icarus, drawn to the flaming sun, he craved to be burned by her.
𖤓
Rich girl SOLANA MCLAREN is a mess. When she gets kicked out of her family home, she's forced to move halfway across the country to live with her golden child brother, the one...
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S O L A N A
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THE LYRICS OF a rap song blared through the speaker system, the floor vibrating steadily from the bass. It almost matched the pounding in my head as my eyes adjusted to the unfamiliar environment around me. I pushed myself off of the couch, glancing at the cups and half-eaten snacks that littered the floor and tables. As usual, I had no idea how I ended up here.
My phone vibrated in the pocket of my denim shorts, and I already knew what it said before I pulled it out.
Twenty missed calls from Josef.
JOSEF Where are you? [01:54AM] Pick up your phone. [02:08AM] Mama just called me, Solana, she's pissed. Pick up. [02:47AM]
I rolled my eyes when I saw another incoming call. Reluctantly, I swiped open the call and immediately regretted doing so.
"What the fuck are you playing at?"
"Nice to hear from you, Josef! Yes, I'm fine, thanks for asking, how about you?" I chirped.
His voice dropped an octave, tight with frustration, "Solana, this isn't a joke. Go home, now. Where are you?"
I looked around for half a second before shrugging. "No idea."
The last thing I remembered was my friend Kali inviting me out to what she'd described as a small house party— and then I woke up here.
He cursed under his breath, "Who are you with?"
Biting my lip, I stumbled toward the door, and a gust of cool air blew against my flushed face. "No clue," I said, "a random guy, probably. You know how it is."
Josef didn't laugh. He never laughed when I said things like that. I couldn't even remember the last time Josef laughed and that realization made me pause in the doorway. "Get your ass home. Now. Or I swear to God—"
The line clicked off.
I knew exactly what Mom was spewing on about on the phone with him. How she wished I was more like him, how she didn't know why I turned out this way. How I was the world's biggest failure. The thought just annoyed me. My mother was the furthest thing from perfect, but she was much better at hiding it than me.
Josef had no idea who Estrela McLaren really was. He'd moved out as soon as he turned eighteen, a few months after Dad died, with his best friend at the time. We'd never been particularly close, but the distance made sure of it. I was left in sunny California with a mother who would rather be anywhere else than with her teenage daughter.
So, while I stayed at home alone for days at a time, she was flying out to luxury vacations with her boy toys— but she kept the mirage of a mourning wife to everyone else.
