Ahhh, Dalton School.

Back at it. Except this year, I'm a senior. And this year really counts. I have to get into Brown. I mean, it's my only option.

"Gabriella!" Morgan calls my name from the center of the quad, "hurry, come here!"

I look around me, confused, as to why she's hurrying me but I can't quite figure it out. I put my bag down on top of the table and take a seat next to Cassie, "what's up? What are you guys doing?"

Morgan waves her hands, basically telling me to shut up, "Have you looked on Instagram today? Look!"

She hands me her phone and I'm prepared to roll my eyes because let's be honest, Morgan is the most dramatic and exaggerates like no other, but this, this took my by surprise. It was my ex boyfriend holding hands with some socialite and model at some party last night.

And it's not like I cared, but I mean, he's dating a model now? Total upgrade.

"I don't care," I handed her back her phone and dug into my purse to find mine, "he's moving on and that's great. So what if he's dating some model. Who is she, anyway? I don't know her."

Okay, maybe I sounded a little jealous, but I mean, he's dating a model! He's holding hands with a model in some picture that someone snapped. Meanwhile, here I am, alone. With no actor boyfriend. No model boyfriend. Ugh, he's won.

Morgan shook her head, "she's not even that pretty if you really look at her, total downgrade."

"Yeah, total downgrade," Cassie chimed in.

"I appreciate it guys," I tell them with a slight laugh, "but I'm fine. Seriously."

More than fine, actually. Well, okay, I'm lying a bit. It does bother me that he seems to be doing better in the dating pool than I am, but whatever, I'm going to take my time and find someone worth it. Not some model.

"You guys!" Savannah came rushing into the quad with some Starbucks in her hand, looking like she had totally important information, "major news!"

"What?" We all said in unison.

She put her bag down along with her coffee and scooted in next to Morgan, "Dalton has it's first new student in years and he's in our grade and he's, like, out of this world attractive. Seriously, so hot!"

"What? Who?" Cassie's ears perked up, "where's he from?"

Troy.

I couldn't help, but look around for him but caught no glimpse of him. Up until right now, I forgot he was coming here.

Well, I didn't totally forgot. I mean, I thought about it like all Saturday. Is every girl going to be fawning over him? Probably. Who's he going to fit in with? Am I going to end up liking this incredibly hot guy? Is there more to him than his looks? Am I going to hate him? Is he going to fit in, all at?

But then Sunday rolled around and I went shopping and had a nice dinner with my family and forgot all about him. Until now, of course. And it made me think back to that Friday night, early Saturday morning. It was all coming back to me again.

"You don't have to take me home, you know," I tell him, putting my feet up in this limo, "you're not my boyfriend."

He looks at me and then just chuckles a bit, "you're drunk. How else are you possibly going to get yourself home?" Okay, yeah, whatever.

I rolled my eyes and looked out the window. If I wasn't super drunk right now, I'd know where we were and how much longer it'll take, but I can't think straight right now. I know who this guy is taking me home, but I forgot his name. And how this even came about. Stupid alcohol.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes," I tell him, even though I'm not sure.

I know for sure I won't throw up. I don't throw up. Unless I'm SUPER hungover the next day, but that usually never happens. Like I said, I don't drink that much. I really don't even know why I'm drunk right now.

Getting drunk at really nice parties isn't my thing, but I guess it was long overdue or something. I don't know.

I had to stop looking out the window though because I was getting dizzy so I peeled my eyes off and looked back at this guy. Trevor? Trey? Ah one of those.

"How do you even know me?" I slurred.

He chuckled and rolled his sleeves up, "I don't, really, but you're a friend of my cousins."

His cousin? "Who?"

"Stacy," he answers and throws his arm over the seat, "Stacy Smith."

Oh right. Stacy Smith. I know her. I was just at her party. Yeah, okay, this is fine. I'm fine. Everything's going to be fine. "When am I getting home? I'm so tired and I just want to sleep in my comfortable bed."

He looked out the window and then back at me. "Approximately two minutes."

So I waited and waited.

And what seemed like forever later, he was helping me out of the limo and into my building.

"This isn't where I live," I tell him. "I live on Park."

He looks at me as if I'm going crazy or something and then looks around, frustrated, and I suddenly feel bad. "We are on Park and this is your place. Stacy gave me the address. Does this really not look familiar to you?"

I looked around, realizing I didn't even try to before, and yes, it looks familiar. "Sorry," I apologized.

"It's okay," he tells me, "um let's head in."

So we did and I said hi to the doorman, Craig, and I got a little carried away since I was drunk and I just started talking to him about my summer and then out of nowhere, I felt a hand on my back and he was pulling me away from Craig.

What the fuck. "Hey!"

"Look, I'm sorry," this guy who brought me home apologizes, "but I'm really trying to help you out before I get home."

Whatever. I cooperated and grabbed my bag from the chair I just put it down on and followed him to the elevator. One thing I never forget when I'm drunk is my floor number and the security code. So I punched it in and waited patiently with my eyes closed.

And then the doors opened up and I was in my place.

Trey, Trevor, whatever his name is, followed closely behind me and I'm pretty sure he was trying to take it all in. Yes, I'm filthy rich. But isn't everyone in the Upper East side?

I went straight to the kitchen and grabbed a bowl of grapes out of the refrigerator. "Do you want some?"

He shook his head, "Um, no, I have to get going, just making sure you got in safely."

How nice of him. I turned around and grabbed myself a water bottle and took out stuff to make myself a PB and J. I was starving. All that alcohol is making me so hungry and thank God this fridge is stocked or I'd probably cry right about now. Ha.

"Are you gonna be okay?" he asks me after I almost eat shit.

I laughed it off and threw off my heels, "Yeah yeah, sure, I will."

But he didn't move for a second. He was just watching me as I took everything out and prepared to make my sandwich. And before I knew it, he was pushing me out of the kitchen and taking over for me, grabbing the peanut butter and smearing it all over the sandwich.

"Hey!"

He turned to me and shook his head, "you pretty much almost just cut yourself. I got it."

What? "No, I didn't, I'm fine!"

"You were using a steak knife to try to smear peanut butter, I don't think you're fine. It's okay, I got it," he tells me and so I don't argue anymore with him and just sit down and wait for my sandwich.

He hands it to me and then starts putting everything away as I bite into it. And oh my gosh, it's sooooo good. "Where did you learn to cook so well?"

He turned around and shook his head and couldn't help but let out a small smile, "just eat your sandwich so you could sober up."

"Oh, I'm so fine," I tell him, putting my hands in the air, but I only contradicted myself since I almost fell out of my seat, "yeah, yeah, I'm fine, don't worry about it."

Again, he laughed and shook his head, "Where are your parents?"

I shrugged and I licked some excess peanut butter off the crust, "Who knows, probably at some fancy schmancy party."

And then he looked right into my eyes and I looked into his and the only thing I wanted to do right now is kiss the shit out of him. Run my hands through his hair and kiss him so hard.

Who was he again, though? Do I know him?

Whatever, he broke contact and apologized for I don't know what and then kept asking me if I was going to be okay. And yes, I will. I'm almost 18 years old, there's security everywhere. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be just fine here.

It seemed like he was in a hurry to get home but now, I don't know what changed, but he's sitting here talking to me asking if I'm going to be okay.

YES. I AM GOING TO BE OKAY!

"Do you need anything else?" he asks me, getting up and putting the milk away.

I shake my head and get off my seat and head over to the living room where I immediately rest my head on my pillow. And fall asleep.

"Gabriella!"

I snap out of it and realize that Char has now joined us. "What?"

Char looks at me weirdly and knows something is up, but doesn't know what exactly, obviously. "Are you okay? You seem out of it," she points out, "we were talking about the new guy. Thought you'd be interested."

Oh I'm very much interested to see what's going to happen, but right now, I have to get going. "Yeah, yeah, I saw him. He's hot. But I have to go get my schedule. I didn't on the way in."

They all shrugged and looked fine with it so I grabbed my purse and raced out of the quad and to the front of the school.

I grabbed my schedule and as I headed back into school, I ran into Troy.

Literally.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized to him, picking up his schedule that fell to the floor and examined it really quickly before handing it back to him.

He takes it back and gives me a small smile, "it's okay, glad to see you're sober."

Oh my gosh. Embarrassing. So embarrassing. But then minute I looked into his eyes, I forgot about being embarrassed and remembered the sweet note he left for me to wake up to.

Gabriella,

You seemed awfully uncomfortable on the couch so thought I'd bring you to your room. At least I hope it's your room. But it has pictures of you, so.

Anyway, I hope you feel better in the morning, but if you have a hangover like I imagine you will, go get the best huevos rancheros in town and go at 'em along with some hashbrows and sausages. Works every time. Trust me. The greasier, the better.

Hope to see you at school.

Troy

He didn't have to leave me any type of note, but the fact that he did and he made sure I got home safely, ahh major points. Everything's coming back to me now. That night. What happened. I went to a party, drank way more than I should, talked to him, he took me home and we talked some more and yeah.

I shouldn't have drank so much. I don't know why I did.

"It's school," I laugh, "I'm not going to come drunk, although some people do."

"Wouldn't doubt it," he laughed along with me.

And then there was silence. He was looking down at his schedule and I took the opportunity to look down at mine as well. I knew we had English together since I did sneak a peek at his schedule. And English was the first class of the day, so...

He looked back up at me and looked a bit embarrassed, "Do you know where room 102 is?"

I smiled at him and nodded, "Follow me."

"Hi, sweetie, how was your day?" my mom asks me as she's cutting up some onions alongside our maid, Lupe.

Lupe was all sorts of wonderful and has been in my life since I was 5 years old. Seriously, I tell her everything- whether she wants to hear it or not. And she gives me advice and is the cutest person in the world.

She's in her late 50's and speaks broken English, but understands every single obnoxious thing that comes out of my mouth. She's family. She cooks for us, she cleans, she makes sure we go to appointments, that everything is in tact. She's just the best and our life wouldn't function without her. Honestly.

"It was fine," I set my bag down on one of the chairs and go around and grab a vitamin water from the fridge, "I have Mrs. Berry for English."

"Oh wonderful!" my mom claps her hands after setting down the knife, "she's the best."

"Do you want me to cut you up some fruit?"

I shake my head at Lupe and go over and take a seat around the island, "I'm fine, I just went and grabbed a parfait with Savannah before coming up here, actually, so I'm a little full."

Lupe nods and goes over to the refrigerator and takes out a bag of shrimp. Oh my gosh, we're having ceviche. Ahhh, my favorite!

"Ahh Lupe, your ceviche is just what I need right now!"

She laughs and opens the bag and dumps it in a bowl so she could wash it.

My mom looks up and furrows her eyebrows, "Hey! I'm helping out, too, you know..."

I looked at Lupe and then we both started laughing. My mom is the worst cook. She's Mexican, well, half Mexican but she just can't cook to save her life. She's tried and she's tried and she's tried, with Lupe's help of course, and nope. Nothing works. So now she just helps Lupe out which is what we all prefer.

"Oh, Gabriella!" Lupe exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air.

"What?"

She dries her hands on her apron and then disappears for a minute or so and when she comes back, she'd holding an ID which she shows to me mom, "Josh said this isn't any of his friends so was wondering if it is your friends."

I grabbed the ID and right away smiled to myself. Even his ID picture is fucking hot. How is that possible?

"Whose is it?"

"Oh, just a friends," I tell my mom as I shoved it into my purse, "he left it here the other night."

"The other night?" her tone changes, "why did you have a boy up here the other night when we were out of town? You know the rules, Gabriella."

Ugh. I was drunk, okay?

But I don't know if I wanted to tell her that. "He didn't stay, okay? He made sure I got home from Stacy's party fine and then I don't really know exactly what happened, but I guess he dropped his ID or something? I don't know."

My mom gave me a look and I knew she wasn't fully convinced. "Mom! I barely know the guy. Look at his ID, it's a Chicago ID, he just moved here. No way is something going to happen with a guy I don't even know. He's Stacy's cousin."

"Fine," she tells me after taking a look, "but still, you shouldn't just invite anyone up here."

"I was drunk, okay?" I tell her so she'd cut me some slack, "I didn't know what was really going on."

My mom shook her head, "how many times have I told you to not drink? I know you're going to do it, but you're not even 18 years old, it's not right even if you have access to it. You're my little baby."

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. "I don't do it often. Just when we go out to certain parties or when we're here, bored. I don't know."

"So who's this guy? He's pretty attractive," she cracks a smile, "don't you think, Lupe?"

Lupe looks up from washing the shrimp and her eyes widen as if it's a trick question which made us all laugh. "Oh yes Mrs. Montez, he is very attractive boy."

Gah, Lupe's the cutest with her little accent. I just love her.

"Where's dad?"

"Taking a nap," my mom tells me as she puts her cut onions into a bowl with tomatoes and cucumbers, "he's had a long day and the Millers are coming over for dinner so he thought he should get his rest."

"Right," I roll my eyes. We didn't usually have company over on weekdays, but ugh, I didn't want to dine with the Millers. They had this obnoxious son and I'm praying he doesn't tag along. "I'm only staying for the food portion and then I'm out of there."

My mom laughs, "fine. But be nice. I know Greg could be a little out there, but you know he likes you so be nice."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I tell her before grabbing my bag and walking out.

I was really only excited for the ceviche.