When We Fall Read online

  When We Fall

  Holy Oaks Series, Book 1

  Madeleine Labitan

  Copyright © 2020 Madeleine Laibitan

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  The characters in this book are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Edited by: Marlon Emanueal Labitan

  Proofread by: J. Lorenzin

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  EPILOGUE

  SNEAK PEEK: FAKING IT

  SAY ANYTHING

  TRUTH OR DARE

  BOOKS BY MADELEINE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  To Mama Mercy and Papa Lito...

  CHAPTER 1

  Sawyer

  Tonight, the party is at Carson Whitfield’s massive beach house. I don't really feel like going, but I made a promise to my friends, who wisely played the guilt card by pointing out that it's been a while since I went to one.

  I guess that's true. I can't even remember when or where that party took place. Because let's face it, high school parties are all the same. Dancing, drinking, smoking weed, hooking up—all the things you can expect when teenagers get together. The scene never really varies, and in the end, they simply blur together.

  And Carson, like any other rich, privileged kid in the wealthy town of Holy Oaks, loves throwing big and extravagant parties. I'm pretty sure this one isn't any different from the others, so I settle on the cute navy blue dress I bought last weekend when my best friend Peyton dragged me to the mall with her.

  Since Liam, my boyfriend of two years, is already downstairs waiting for me, I don't have any time left for a stylish updo to match my outfit. So I simply let my wavy black hair fall free below my shoulders, and keep my makeup light—just a swipe of pink lipgloss and a brush of mascara.

  The only piece of jewelry I'm wearing is the silver necklace Mom gave me on my thirteenth birthday. It's the one thing I always wear. One thing I can never leave the house without. A reminder that she's always with me wherever I go.

  Stepping into my favorite flats, I slip my phone into my clutch and walk out of my room as Duke, my seventy-pound golden retriever, pads after me.

  I hope Dad isn't subjecting my boyfriend to another Jeopardy! episode. Whenever he's watching the show, he enthusiastically yells the questions at the TV. Liam has already complained to me about it a few times. He says all the shouting hurt his ears. I have yet to talk to Dad about it though.

  Reaching the living room, I'm surprised to see Avery, my older sister, there instead of our dad. She's a freshman in college and goes to uni just an hour away, so she comes home every other weekend. It's still early though. She's usually out with her friends at this time. But instead, she's lounging on the loveseat, her attention focused on her phone—until she notices my presence, anyway.

  Her eyes run over me, giving my outfit a thorough assessment while I try not to squirm.

  She does it every time, but I never get used to it. Especially whenever she voices out her critiques. As a fashion design major, she always makes my clothing style her business—even when I'm not asking for her opinion.

  Please don’t say anything in front of my boyfriend! I plead with my eyes.

  Avery smirks but thankfully keeps her mouth shut. She even gives me an approving nod before turning back to her phone.

  Silently letting out a sigh of relief, I turn to face Liam with a ready smile in place. But it slips when I see that his attention isn't even on me.

  Like Avery, his focus is on his phone, too. He's even grinning at the screen. Who is he texting? I'm right here. I've been standing here for a full minute, and yet he still hasn’t noticed me.

  Impatiently, I clear my throat.

  Liam finally looks up, strands of sandy blond hair falling over his brows. He blinks, as if forgetting that he's here for me. “Hey.”

  “Hey?”

  A smile curves his lips, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “Ready to go?”

  That's it? He's not even going to comment on my cute dress?

  “Um, yeah. Sure.” I force a smile to hide my disappointment.

  Duke whines at my feet, as if to sympathize with me.

  “See you later, buddy," I coo, scratching the back of his ear.

  He licks my hand before sauntering over to Avery, making himself comfortable below the loveseat.

  Dad is likely in his office working on his latest novel, so I just turn to my sister to tell her we're leaving, ignoring the look of pity etched on her face.

  Liam is just probably having one of his “off-nights,” as I've come to call them. Didn’t he look happy when he was staring at his phone? But I quickly brush off the mocking thought. We're going to a party to hang out with our friends. We're going to have fun. I can’t be a Negative Nelly right now.

  Stepping out into the cold night, I silently berate myself for not thinking of bringing a jacket. The only consolation I have is knowing that Liam will be there to keep me warm. Well, that or he's going to make me wear his jacket like he usually does.

  We quietly walk down to his car parked by the curb, and I wait for him to open the front passenger door for me. He does it every time.

  But apparently, not this time. Instead, he goes straight to the driver’s side, leaving me dumbly blinking after him. It takes a few seconds before I recover and get inside.

  And there he is again, smiling at his phone when I buckle myself in.

  Seriously, who is he texting?

  “Liam,” I call his attention.

  “What?” he snaps, catching me off-guard.

  I purse my lips, frowning. “Aren’t we leaving now?”

  Pocketing his phone, he huffs in annoyance before starting the ignition and pulling out of the curb.

  That's when it hits me—he didn’t even kiss me hello.

  *******

  I'm not surprised to see Carson’s beach house overflowing with people and the music blaring at top volume. Like I said, she throws extravagant parties. Half of these attendees probably don’t even go to Holy Oaks Prep. But when music fills the air and alcohol flows around, it doesn't matter who’s who. At least, until the party's over.

  Walking up to the front door, I almost get hit by a throng of drunk girls laughing and running from equally drunk guys. Scowling after them, I inch closer to my boyfriend, only to find him already walking ahead of me. Like I'm not even with him.

  Blowing out a breath, I walk faster to catch up to him, entwining my fingers with his when I do.


  Liam frowns a little at our clasped hands but doesn’t say anything.

  Seriously, what’s with him tonight? Come to think of it, he's been acting weird these past few weeks. Like he's distancing himself from me. Is it because we haven't been spending time together lately? It's football season and he's always busy with practice, while I'm involved with extracurriculars and working on my college portfolio.

  It's mainly the reason why I let my friends badger me into coming here. I was looking forward to spending some time with Liam. But with the way he's acting, I'm starting to think he doesn't feel the same way.

  And who was he texting a while back? I hope Peyton wasn’t right when she made a comment about boys being susceptible to temptation when their girlfriends aren’t around to keep an eye on them. I don’t even know why she said that. Her boyfriend, Parker Holloway, has been nothing but loyal since they started dating junior year. And it's not like they are having problems. Surely, she’d tell me if there are any.

  Maybe Liam is just feeling a little neglected. Maybe he's still pissed that I'd rather stay home than watch him practice from the bleachers. He's always complaining that I don't care about the sport. That's true, I really don't. But it doesn't mean I'm not being supportive from the sidelines. In fact, I come to his games every once in a while. But it seems like it's not enough.

  In any case, I have to make it up to him. I need to show him how important he is to me. Hmmm...maybe a surprise date next weekend? I'll have to coordinate our schedules first. Maybe Peyton can help me plan it. She's friends with Liam. She won't mind for sure.

  “You made it!” A squealing Quinn suddenly appears in front of me, breaking off my thoughts as she throws her arms around me and smothers me with her thick blonde locks.

  I can smell alcohol on her breath, which tells me she’s on her way to being drunk—if she's not there already.

  “Ugh. Will you settle down? You’re acting like you haven’t seen her in a year.” Peyton is right behind Quinn, looking sophisticated in her short black dress, a red Solo cup in her hand. She shoots our friend an irritated look before giving me a tight smile. “You’re late.”

  “And she needs to keep up fast.” Brayden walks up to us, his curly black hair and dark bronze skin slightly glistening with sweat. “Drink up, missy,” he orders in a firm voice, extending a cup to me.

  “You know I don’t have any plans of getting drunk tonight, right?” I glance around, noticing that Liam isn't next to me anymore.

  “If you’re looking for your boyfriend, he’s already heading toward the game room,” Brayden tells me, gesturing a few meters away to an open door where, sure enough, Liam is walking into.

  I catch a glimpse of his friends, Giovanni Russo and Bennett King, playing pool before the door closes behind him.

  Disappointment hits me. So much for hanging out at the party together.

  Quinn nudges me. “What’s with the scowl? You just got here.”

  “I think she’d rather give him puppy-dog eyes than hang out with us,” Peyton says dryly.

  “Please.” Brayden rolls his eyes, smirking. “We’re more fun than that bunch.”

  “Exactly.” Quinn raises her cup then takes a drink, throwing it over her shoulder when it turns empty. I give her my cup, which she happily guzzles down. “Now, let’s go to the rooftop.”

  Peyton takes out her phone. “You know what? You, guys, go right ahead. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “Wait—” I say, but Quinn is already pulling my hand while Brayden clears the path for us. When I look over my shoulder for Peyton, she's already disappeared through the crowd.

  People greet us as we make our way to the rooftop, but thankfully we don’t stop to talk to any of them. I’m feeling a little claustrophobic at how packed the place is. So when we finally reach the top, I make sure to take a lungful of fresh air, relieved that this part at least isn't overcrowded.

  There’s a mini bar in the far corner of the rooftop, and Brayden is already making a beeline for the alcohol.

  Quinn leads me to the huge circular couch facing the majestic view of the beach, with a roaring fire pit right in the middle of its center table. If the Whitfields were aiming for a cozy and inviting vibe, they nailed it.

  With a sigh, I plop down next to Quinn, making sure to save a space for Brayden. “Is Peyton going to join us here?”

  “She’d probably rather make out with Parker downstairs.”

  To be honest, I prefer a makeout session, too. Not with Parker, obviously. With Liam. But it’s starting to look like my boyfriend doesn’t feel the same.

  I really have a lot of making up to do.

  “Who wouldn’t? Her boyfriend is the hottest guy in school,” Brayden interjects, catching up on the topic of conversation, setting the drinks down on the table before sitting beside me. “No offense, Sawyer.”

  My lips twitch. “Just don’t say that in front of Liam.”

  Liam hates being compared to Parker—and always coming second—especially whenever people point it out in a flippant manner. While Parker merely brushes it off, it rankles Liam so much that he’s in a black mood for the rest of the day. My assurances about him being the real winner in my eyes don’t help one bit. He can't understand why everyone seems to like Parker more when he’s the star quarterback and not the other way around.

  Quinn draws an audible breath, leaning back on the couch. “I’m so glad Carson decided to throw this party. She’s been so hard on us at practice this week. We so deserve this break.”

  As much as Quinn loves to complain about Carson being a tough captain, I know she wouldn’t have it any other way. In fact, Quinn was relieved when Carson got the head cheerleader position instead of Peyton. Peyton never got wind of it, of course.

  “We all deserve this break,” Brayden says. “Principal Caufield is on my ass these days, lecturing me about the responsibilities of a student council president. Like I’m not doing my job hard enough.”

  I give him a sympathetic look. “Maybe he’s still pissed about the locker room incident.”

  It was only three weeks ago when a football player and his girlfriend were recorded having sex in the boys’ locker room. The video had made the rounds in social media, causing quite a scandal and dragging the name of our school. As a result, all the students involved—including the one who secretly recorded it—got suspended for a week.

  “Yeah. He won’t shut up about it,” Brayden grumbles, taking a pull of his drink.

  I reach for mine and lift it to my nose—rum and coke. I take a few sips. Not bad.

  Quinn giggles. “Tell him to wait for the next scandal. I predict it’s going to be a bigger one.”

  Yep. She’s already drunk.

  I raise an eyebrow at Brayden.

  “Don’t worry about her. We’re going to crash here. No driving tonight.”

  Well, that’s a relief.

  As for me, I'll probably be in the driver's seat by the end of the night. Liam sometimes ends up getting drunk at these parties. I’ve driven his car home a few times before, with him passed out in the passenger seat. I have a feeling this night isn't going to be any different.

  “I’m going to the bathroom,” I announce, rising up from the couch.

  “I’m coming with you.” Quinn tries to get up but ends up falling back, bursting in a fit of giggles.

  Brayden laughs, then waves me away when I tried to help. “I got her.”

  “I’ll be right back,” I tell him before making my way down inside the house.

  Thankfully, despite the place being crowded, I manage to spot an empty bathroom quickly. But when I step out a few minutes later, a commotion a few rooms down gets my attention.

  “Parker, man, don’t do it!”

  “Damn it, Bennett! Hold him down!”

  "Hey, assholes! If you're going to beat each other up, take it outside. Not in my house."

  A sense of foreboding rushes through my veins, and I find myself walking toward the direction of
the commotion.

  Then something happens that magnifies my unease. People take one look at me, then move aside to let me pass. Is that pity in their eyes?

  My pulse starts to race. What is going on?

  Then I see it.

  Them.

  My eyes land on Parker first. He looks angry, his face red. Bennett King, Jamie Bradshaw, and Giovanni Russo are all holding him back, as if to stop him from charging at someone.

  Then my gaze finds the bed. And then my heart stops. My breath stalls.

  Because right there on the bed is none other than my boyfriend Liam—a very naked Liam with an equally naked girl. And not just any girl—Peyton. My best friend, Peyton.

  No.

  I make a strangled sound, my breath squeezing out of my lungs as my vision blurs at the edges. My knees wobble, threatening to give out under me.

  No.

  They both turn to me and I watch as their faces pale.

  “Babe,” Liam starts, getting up.

  I shake my head.

  No, no, no.

  He scrambles to get up even more, but he doesn't go far.

  Parker finally manages to shove the arms holding him back, punching Liam square on the face.

  Screams ring out behind me just as a pair of hands grabs my shoulder. “Come on.”

  It’s Brayden, and Quinn's with him, looking a lot sober than she'd been in the rooftop. Together, they quietly lead me outside. Away from there. Away from them.

  I suppose I should stay there—scream and kick like a madwoman. My boyfriend and my best friend are screwing each other behind my back. If that isn't enough reason to get angry, what is?

  But I don’t feel anger. Not even pain. I’m just...numb. I don’t feel anything.

  Quinn is saying something, but her voice is muted. Her words don’t register. Nothing does.

  “I need to get out of here,” I whisper, taking a step back. Then I take another. And another.

  Until I spin around and take off running, ignoring my friends’ calls and everyone’s pitiful glances.

  Until I’m outside away from it all. And that’s when the tears start to fall.