Page 1 of Myla: The Hawthornes

Chapter 1

Myla

“You should’ve comewith me,” I sang into the phone, running my hand along the side of the building so I didn’t go ass over teakettle on the uneven ground.

“I still feel like shit,” my best friend Lou mumbled, laughter in her voice. “Having a good time?”

“I’ve been dancing for an hour,” I confirmed. “I haven’t been this sweaty in at least a year.”

“That guy.” She snickered. “What was his name?”

“John,” I replied with a shudder. “But thankfully, this time it’s my own sweat.”

“Sweaty John,” she said with a laugh. “Right.”

“Everyone is here but you,” I complained. “Frankie was doing shots with my brother, and he puked.”

“Which brother?”

“Dumb question.”

“Rumi.”

“Yep. You should’ve seen Nova’s face. She was torn between laughing her ass off and punching him. It was awesome.”

“Where are you now?” Lou asked, her voice muffled like she’d pressed her face back against the pillow.

“Going back to my tent,” I said with a sigh. “I was feeling the need to sit down—”

“Uh-oh.”

“Yeah.” I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. “If I passed out and one of my brothers had to drag me out of there—”

“Or your dad.”

I shuddered again.

“Yeah, they’d never let me hear the end of it. So, I’m attempting to find my way back.”

I stopped at the edge of the building.

I’d gotten to the clubhouse early to help my mom and grandma with food and setting everything up, so when my brother Mick had set up the tent for me and my other best friend Frankie, it had been pretty much empty field out back. That was no longer the case. There had to be at least forty tents.

“Shit,” I mumbled, trying to remember where my little blue tent was. It was so dark out that I couldn’t even tell what color any of them were.

“What’s wrong?” Lou asked.

“Can’t find my tent.”

She laughed. “I believe in you. Call me in the morning. I’m going to crash.”

“Fine,” I grumbled good-naturedly. “Love you. Feel better.”

“That’s the plan,” she confirmed. “Love you, too.”

After she’d hung up, I dropped the phone from my ear and ran my gaze over the tents again. There were a couple of guys sitting in lawn chairs, keeping an eye on things. They were passing a joint back and forth, and I squinted, trying to figure out who it was.

There were so many clubs in town visiting—I had no idea why, but I was always down for a party—that there was an entire area in the far field with more tents. The ones in front of me were only for Aces and their women. I wasn’t either of those, but I was the grown daughter of a member…and the granddaughter of one, and the sister of even more of them, so I had a sleeping spot right out the back door.

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