1

Maria

My heart races from excitement even as my breath slows down. I pass several streets, occasionally stopping to listen for approaching footsteps, or worse, Dad's Ford truck.

But tonight, I'm lucky.

Soon, I hear music and laughter coming from my friend Diana's house at the end of Clover Road.

Party time.

I grin like a fool, thinking about how much fun I will have tonight. I should feel guilty, but I won't. It's my high school graduation, for fuck's sake, and I have a right to celebrate.

As I approach the house, laughter and music spill out from the open front door, welcoming me inside. I slip into the house and instantly start smiling at the crazy energy of my friends and classmates as they jam out to vintage late 90s and early 2000s music.

A small group of people stand by the pool, drinking beer and laughing loudly. I take a deep breath and walk toward them, grabbing a Coors from an open cooler as I try to blend in.

"Maria Rostova, as I live and breathe!" Diana squeals in delight when she sees me. "You made it! Oh my God, I love this look! Come on, girl. Let's show them how to dance!"

Diana's skirt is shorter than mine, and her eyes are already glassy from drinking. She's wearing heels and not Chucks like me. But most importantly, her parents are nowhere to be seen, despite all the cars in the driveway. To hear her tell it, they don't really care as long as the house doesn't burn down and the cops don't show up. It's not the first time Diana has thrown a party like this.

God, what I wouldn't give to have her parents instead of my overbearing dad.

She pulls me to the patio, and the pulsating beat of the music ignites something inside me. I throw my hands up in the air and shake my hips to NSYNC's "Bye Bye Bye." My yelps rise above the rest of them.

Diana's eyes widen as she watches me act wild. The attention urges me on and I throw all caution to the wind, acting crazier and crazier. Slowly, the fear dissipates that my dad will appear to snatch me away like he's done so many times before. I'm just happy to be out of that house and having fun like normal people.

Even if it's just for one evening.

The first of many evenings, I resolve silently.

"It's always the quiet ones." Diana is laughing when I open my eyes. She grips my hand and pulls me close to whisper in my ear. "Check it out—Trevor's got his eyes on you."

I glance over my shoulder and see that Trevor—our high school's star quarterback with an athletic body toned from hours in the gym and on the field—is watching me.

My heart skips a beat when he catches my gaze. I had—no, still have—the biggest crush on him. And if I'm throwing caution to the wind tonight ...

Just play it cool, Maria. Don't get weird. Don't get nervous. Oh God, he's coming over.

"Hey, Maria!" He grins like he has me already. "Didn't think you'd show up."

"Neither did I," I admit stupidly. Ugh. So much for playing it cool.

Trevor smiles. "I'm glad you're here." He takes my hand, and we start to dance. Our bodies move in sync with the rhythm of the loud music. As our arms circle each other's waists, I feel his chest against mine. His hands caress my back, moving lower. Our lips are inches apart, and I feel the heat coming off his body. Our mouths are about to meet when an unexpected panic wave swallows me whole.

This is all happening too fast. What am I doing?

My father will ground me forever if he finds out.

No.

When he finds out.

Because somehow, my father always finds out.

"Wait." I press my hand against Trevor's chest and gently push him back, breaking our connection.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"I want to ... but not here," I whisper, and the heated look returns to Trevor's eyes.

I want my first kiss to be special. I don't want to make out on the dance floor while everybody from school watches.

"Afraid your dad's going to make a surprise appearance?" Trevor teases, brushing a strand of my curly hair behind my ear. "He won't."

Everyone at school knows about how strict and controlling my dad is. And I've endured more than my share of hidden whispers and gossip.

I gaze down at my feet. I want fun. But there are boundaries I'm still not ready to cross. Should I thank my dad for that? For ruining my fun while he's nowhere in sight and keeping me safe whether I want it or not?

"It's just you and me." Trevor grins, pulling me closer. "And I'll treat you right."

I stare at him and he's waiting for approval. I nod hesitantly and Trevor smiles, lowering his head. My heart beats wildly against my chest. My common sense tries to tell me to stop, but it's too late.

"It's okay," he whispers in my ear as he pulls me close. His other hand pins my waist against him, and I feel his hardness—warm, throbbing, and inviting—press against my stomach.

"Will you be my first?"

This is what I've wanted for so long, right? A guy who wants me badly enough to do something about it. One who will give me everything he's got and not be afraid of my father.

Suddenly, the music stops.

Oh no ...

Shocked silence grips the room, and my eyes fly open to find everyone staring at me. My heart drops like a stone when I see my father, Michael Rostova, standing by the patio doors, watching me. His face is contorted in anger, but his eyes are filled with hurt. My cheeks sear in shame as I quickly disentangle myself from Trevor, who goes wide-eyed with fear when he sees my father.

Dad strides toward us with such intensity that it feels like a tornado has just hit the party.

"Step away from my daughter." He doesn't raise his voice, but there's no need for him to. The hurt in my father's eyes is gone, and in its place is something new. Something I've never seen before.

He looks like he's ready to kill.

"Fuck you, man," Trevor speaks up, drawing my father's baleful glare instantly.

He grabs Trevor by the collar and lifts him up like he weighs nothing.

"Dad! Stop!" I shout, trying to pry his tight grip off Trevor. "Don't hurt him!"

"Enough," he says, never raising his voice, yet there is no mistaking the power behind his words. His free hand grabs my arm with an iron grip that I had no idea he was capable of. "You're not supposed to be here."

"Let her go, asshole!" Trevor shouts and reaches for my dad.

Wrong answer.

Everything happens in a blur. Without warning, Dad hurls Trevor across the patio, knocking another boy into the bushes. Other than the sound of rustling branches as Trevor struggles to get up, there is only silence.

"Home. Now." Dad's voice is iron-hard like his grip, and there is an edge to his voice that tells me he will not tolerate backtalk or dissent.

All my life, he's been strict and overprotective. But this ... this is extreme, even for him.

He drags me toward his truck, ignoring the tears welling up in my eyes as he publicly humiliates me. I turn my face away from my friends' gaping stares burning into my back. I don't dare look at them, and I hope I'll never see any of them again.

Not after this.

As we approach his truck, I yank my arm free, tears streaming down my face.

"Why do you always have to ruin everything?!" I scream. My voice ends in a whine, a fact that I resent almost as much as him ruining my life.