Daniel

“Why are we going to the Hamptons again?” Isabella asks her brother.

“Did you forget about Collin’s birthday party at his family’s private beach?” Justin shoots back while fist-bumping a jock walking by.

“Is Collin’s birthday next week? Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I forgot.” Isabella frowns.

“What’s the big deal about Collin’s birthday? I know you’re into each other and have been flirting back and forth for weeks now, but you do realize Zack is going to lose his mind if you two get together, right?” Justin smirks.

Why am I not surprised Isabella is into one of her rich, good-looking friends?

I look away from the twins to stop paying attention to their conversation, as I don’t feel like hearing about the princess’ love life anymore—the whole thing is pissing me off for some unknown reason.

“Shut up, Jus.” Isabella punches her brother’s shoulder playfully. “Anyway, can I have your cell phone number, please? I’ll send you a message so you can text me your address.”

I hear her faintly but keep staring away because I’m sure she isn’t talking to me—she would never ask for my number. Not that I even have a phone anyway.

“Daniel?” Isabella calls.

I immediately look at her in response. “Yeah?”

“Can I have your cell phone number, please?” she repeats, her perfect lips curling into a beautiful smile.

I freeze for a minute, my heartbeat speeding up and my stomach fluttering.

What the hell am I feeling? What’s this?

Under Isabella’s gaze, I finally manage to force out a meek, “I don’t have a cell phone.”

“That’s unexpected,” she says, surprised—and I swear I catch a hint of disappointment in her tone as well.

“I can give you my landline number if you want,” I continue, eager to appease her somehow.

“Oh! That would be perfect. Could you write down your home phone and address for me, please?” She grins, her reaction knocking me off my feet.

“Yes. Of course.”

She pulls a small, delicate pink memo pad and a matching pen from her blazer and hands them to me.

I write down my landline number and home address, cursing myself silently at my handwriting, as the words look like a bunch of messy little doodles made by a two-year-old—or Oliver.

“Done,” I declare as I hand the memo pad and pen back to the princess, who rewards me with a breathtaking smile when she reaches for them. Our fingers brush for barely a second, but it’s enough to send tingles down my spine and make my heart start beating faster again.

“Thank you for inviting me to your party, Daniel,” she says, her cheeks blushing.

Justin coughs and narrows his eyes at her. “I believe I was also invited to Daniel’s party,” he mutters.

“I mean, thank you for inviting us.” She rolls her eyes, gesturing between herself and her brother.

“That’s much better.” Justin nods in satisfaction, smiling broadly. “Let’s go to the grassy area, Bella. Katy wants to talk to you about that adult website you mentioned last week,” he tells her casually.

“What?” Isabella gasps, wide-eyed. “I didn’t recommend any adult website to anyone.” 

“I’m kidding.” Justin laughs. “She wants to talk to you about the outfit you’re wearing to Zack’s party on Saturday.”

“Are you trying to embarrass me or something?” Isabella scolds him, but ends up laughing with him anyway. Then she turns to my friends and me and says, “Bye, guys. I’ll see you later.” And just like that, she’s walking away.

Once they disappear from view, I let out a long breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

Kim grabs my arm and shakes it nonstop. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Isabella and Justin talked to us, and they didn’t turn you down, Dan. That really happened,” she squeaks.

“I’ve been studying here for two years, and it’s the first time I’ve seen the twins chatting with students outside their group of popular friends. That’s a first,” Carol admits, dumbfounded.

“I told you Isabella is nice, Carol. Even her handsome brother is cool.” Kim pauses, closes her eyes, and grins. “He asked me my name. Justin Williams asked me my name,” she exclaims, her eyes flying open again.

“That was unusual. Why would the twins pay attention to us?” Even Richard sounds shocked.

“Do you think they’ll come to your party, Dan?” Kim sounds and looks way too hopeful.

“Of course not.” I shake my head vehemently. “Didn’t you hear their plans with their friends and family? A yacht party, a night out at the club, the gala… Come on. My party is absolute garbage to them,” I grumble, frustrated.

“But Isabella did ask for your address and phone number,” Kim insists.

“Bullshit,” I reply dryly. “Isabella was being polite. That’s it.” I say it mostly to convince myself so I don’t get hopeful.

“Isabella’s presence or absence won’t change anything because we’ll have fun with or without her. Honestly, I hope she doesn’t show up. If she does, I bet she’ll just talk about her expensive purses, shoes, and fancy parties. I doubt she even knows how to relax and have fun with us—the poor, ordinary people,” Carol scoffs.

“Carol is right, Kim,” I agree, siding with her even though I’m silently begging god for a miracle. 

I want Isabella to come to my party. I want to spend my birthday with the princess more than I want to have fun with my friends with benefits.

* * *

The rest of the week goes by, and Isabella doesn’t talk to my friends or me again, and neither does her brother. The princess doesn’t even look at me once, even though we have Literature and PE together. Instead, she spends most of her time with one specific jock, which makes me feel jealous as hell.

By the time Friday arrives, I’m one hundred percent convinced that Isabella Williams is a snobby goody-two-shoes and that she’s never going to speak to me again. I do my best to stop thinking about her, but her damn face won’t leave my head, driving me completely nuts. Knowing she isn’t coming to my party gives me a tiny bit of peace and the determination to forget the wicked girl once and for all.

Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself over and over again.

* * *

Saturday afternoon arrives. My friends from Angelwood and Vista High, my family, my neighbors, and I are gathered in my parents’ backyard to celebrate my eighteenth birthday. I feel relaxed and comfortable around the people I enjoy spending time with, although I keep glancing at the gate every ten minutes—no. I’m not going to admit that I’m hoping to see Isabella waltzing in at any moment.

The table in the center of the yard is covered with home-cooked food, including the mouthwatering chocolate cake my mom baked. Casual pop music plays on the stereo, and the fridge is stocked with beers and sodas thanks to Lucy’s dad, who brought them.

As I sit on the grass with my friends, I can’t help getting annoyed with their interrogation about Vista High, which leads me to respond hastily and dryly while eating a hot dog and drinking a soda. Lucy is sitting next to me with her head resting on my shoulder, and Hugo—my best friend—keeps pressing me about the wealthy students. Needless to say, Isabella’s beautiful face is all I can think about as I try not to look at the gate for the thousandth time.

“Why didn’t you invite the rich students to your party, Dan? I was eager to meet the girls,” Hugo says, his lips curving into a smug smile.

“I’m not friends with the rich students, Hugo. They’re a bunch of snobs.” I grimace in disgust.

“You invited Isabella, but she didn’t come,” Kim comments, sounding gloomy and frustrated.

“Of course the princess didn’t come. Did you really think Miss Popularity would show up here for real? You’re too stupid, Kim,” Carol mocks.

“Who’s Isabella, Dan? Is she pretty?” Lucy asks casually, but I know her well enough to catch the jealousy hidden in her questions.

“Isabella is Isabella Williams, aka the most popular girl in school,” Richard answers

“Is she beautiful?” Lucy presses.

“Are you kidding? Isabella is the most stunning girl ever,” Kim remarks, nodding.

“Really? Then why did you invite her if she isn’t even your friend, Dan?” Lucy lifts her head off my shoulder, shooting me a death glare.

I roll my eyes and let out a low groan. “Kim invited Isabella to my party because she made a bet with Carol,” I vaguely clarify, because I’m not in the mood to deal with Lucy’s possessiveness.

“So Kim is the one who wanted to invite Isabella, not you?” Lucy narrows her eyes at both Kim and me.

Just when I’m about to explain the stupid bet more clearly, Hugo grabs my arm and squeezes hard.

“Who is that goddess?” he gasps, still crushing my arm, gawking at the gate.

“What the hell, Hugo? Let me go, man,” I grunt, trying to yank myself free.

“She’s hot; she’s too hot,” my friend Anthon exclaims.

That’s when I realize the entire backyard is gaping at the gate like someone just descended from heaven—there’s only one girl on earth who can cause this kind of chaos just by existing, and there’s no way in hell she’s the one making my friends lose their minds right now… is there?

“Holy moly. I can’t believe she came,” Carol mutters, her eyes wide.

As I finally look at the gate, Isabella’s green eyes lock on mine immediately, a soft smile tugging at her perfect lips.

Yep. I immediately lose the ability to think straight. My stomach hits full-on flutter mode, and for a second I swear I might pass out because I literally—can’t—breathe.

“Isabella is here,” Kim squeals, pointing an accusatory finger at Carol. “You lost our bet. Lunch is on you on Monday,” she declares, her hands shooting up in triumph.

I’m still staring at the breathtaking girl walking through the gate. She looks unreal, like she belongs on some high-end magazine cover.

Isabella is wearing a white T-shirt with a rock band’s logo, tucked into a black leather skirt that ends mid-thigh, paired with black stiletto sandals. A casual white purse hangs from her shoulder; a delicate gold bracelet, necklace, and earrings glint against her skin. Her makeup is simple but flawless, and her hair is pulled into a high ponytail, with side bangs framing her face.

Calling her “stunning” feels like a joke. She’s so ridiculously beautiful that even Lucy punching my shoulder doesn’t drag my eyes off her.

Isabella starts walking toward us, and it’s like time slows down. Each step brings her closer, along with this light, sweet scent that hits me like a spell. Meanwhile, my guy friends start grilling me with questions, and the girls mutter jealous curses under their breath.

“Hi.” Isabella greets me gently when she reaches me. “I’m sorry I’m late. I didn’t know what time I was supposed to come because I forgot to ask. I thought about calling the number you gave me, but I didn’t want to bother you or your family. And I’m sorry for coming in without permission. Your neighbor, Mrs. Phillips, said I could use the gate.”

She gives me a timid, apologetic smile, and suddenly I’m very aware that I’m still sitting on the grass like an idiot. I stare up at her, trying to read those jade eyes boring straight into me. Then, like a complete moron, I imagine what it’d be like to kiss her—just kiss her and hold her—and my brain short-circuits.

“These are for you,” she continues, holding out a beautifully wrapped flat box and a pink envelope.

I gawk at her in response, motionless and silent. 

“Daniel, say something,” Kim mumbles, poking my arm.

As though jolted awake from a trance, I jump to my feet, my eyes never leaving Isabella’s.

“I hope you like it,” the princess says, smiling, as I take the gifts.

Absolute silence reigns over the backyard, like everyone’s watching us the way they’d watch a plot twist from a drama show.

Holy crap, this is real. Isabella Williams is standing in my backyard, at my birthday party, talking to me. What the hell am I supposed to do now?

* * *