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I twisted open the top to my lip gloss, spreading a thin layer of it over my lips. When they were fully coated, I rolled them together and looked at my appearance in the full length wall mirror, trying to remember the last time I had been dressed so formally.

"There!" I said, smiling at my reflection in the mirror. I did a little turn, taking notice to the way the tight black pencil skirt complemented my curves. "What do you think?"

I turned to face Jinx, who was sprawled out on my bed behind me. He was too deep in thought to be listening to me, staring deeply at the high ceiling and crystal chandelier that dangled above him. Eventually he looked up at me, taking in my appearance from my glossy light-blue heels to my flat ironed hair. He sighed.

"Remind me again why you're so dressed up?" He asked, crossing his hands across his stomach. I rolled my eyes, walking over to the corner of the bed and sitting down.

"I told you, the sports awards." He nodded, chewing on his bottom lip. I waited for the protest I knew was coming.

"I know that, but why are you going again? It doesn't really matter, does it?" I slipped my feet out of my heels, leaving them on the floor and curling my legs up on the bed.

"They're presenting an award specifically to me, for leading the soccer team to play-offs." I reminded him, leaning back against the bed post.

"Didn't you already get that? It's on the mantle." He seemed content, but I shook my head.

"That's the trophy, this is different. This is a plaque." Jinx sat up now, taking in my appearance in more detail this time. I followed his glance, secretly worrying about the length of my skirt, the color of my top and the surplus of cosmetics on my face as his eyes crossed each one.

"You look nice." He said finally, sitting up against my pillows. "I just don't see why you're wearing that. Who are you getting dressed up for?" I folded my hands in my lap, looking for an answer.

"No one, no one. The whole team is dressing up." I stood up again and headed to the mirror again. The skirt hang tightly on the curve of my hips, the heels accentuating the muscles in my calves.

"You look amazing," Jinx said again. "I just think it's a little sexy for a school event. Something you're mother would have picked out." I crinkled my nose at the mention, leaving the mirror and heading back to the bed.

"You're coming, aren't you?" I asked, sitting down next to Jinx. He smiled at me, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear.

"You know I hate these things. A bunch of rich kids being praised on their parent's purchases. But for you, I'll go." He pulled my closer to him, giving me a kiss.

"You can always stay here. It's only an hour and a half, I can come back right after." I leaned my head on his shoulder. He considered my suggestion.

"If you're sure that's okay. But let me at least drive you there." I nodded, sitting up and heading into my closet.

"Of course, let me just change first."

"Carolina, what are you still doing up here?" My mother's voice cut me from my thoughts and I turned around to see her glide into my bedroom. She poised herself in front of the mirror, casually turning to look at her full length gown in the mirror. Although the majority of my mother's guests wore cocktail dresses, she had a tradition of dressing to impress. Her selection for tonight was a floor length sequin gown with cascade sleeves. The dress was beige, adorned with gold and white sequin patterns that complimented her silhouette. Her golden hair had been highlighted and hung in a half up, half down do. To my surprise, my mother had left her stiletto collection in the closet for once, instead wearing a pair of flat sarong sandals. Although beautiful, the ensemble vaguely reminded me of an upscale costume of a greek goddess.

The lower level of our house had been polished until it shined, then filled with an assortment of staff in charge of food and entertainment. Outside, an assemblage of adults serenaded the guests with string instruments, while a full staff of waiters offered them orderves on silver platters. The guests had arrived an hour ago, and my mother had begun her routine: casual conversation, a laugh here and there, the occasion gossip about neighbors and philanthropists. I had chosen to stay hidden away in my bedroom, not getting dressed until I knew the house was filled with foreigners.

The dress my mother had selected for me was a mint green cocktail dress that stopped mid-thigh. It was a tulle dress, trimmed with silk satin and embellished with silver around the top. On my feet, suede beige pumps, with my hair down in long curls. Again, I wondered how many people from my school would recognize me without a ponytail, before remembering they would most likely be downstairs anyway.

"Come now, it's time for you to greet the guests." By now, I was positive my mother had spoken to at least every one downstairs at least once, but I followed her outside without protest. She led me down the spiral staircase and into the crowd of people in the entrance way.

Clumps of three to five people stood five feet apart from each other, sipping glasses of champagne and making small talk. The house buzzed with small talk and polite laughter, which served as a top layer to the faint sound of violins that could be heard from outside. Sparkles caught my eye from every direction-the glimmer of an embellished floor length gown, the glisten of a trophy wife's newest bling, the shine of a new chandelier that above the front door. As I descended down the staircase, I took it all in. In each direction, the same thing: Curls being tossed, high heels clicking, thick lashes being batted. Men in suits stood together, discussing business as women gossiped about their neighbors. A few splotches of children scurried around their parents legs, laughing as they turned the corners. I noticed a few circles of teenagers, most that I recognized from school, sipping from their glasses and mimicking the adults.

"Carolina! My gosh you look gorgeous, it's been so long since I've seen you!" A woman in an emerald gown approached me, providing my mother a chance to slip into the crowd. I recognized her as Mrs. Garcia, a source of gossip among the well-off and a member of the school board. Her lips were coated in an obnoxious plum lipstick which clashed perfectly with her dress. I smiled at her.

"Mrs. Garcia, thank you. How are you're children?" The children line I had picked up from my mother, a simple way to distract the conversation from yourself. The woman nodded quickly, and I watched as the skin on her cheeks bounced between her smile lines.

"Oh they're great, Tommy's just turned 21 and he's changed his major-again. This time he's chosen philosophy, I told him he's making a bad decision. What kind of career will that lead to? I wish he would just become a doctor already, like his brother." I nodded as she ranted on, glancing to the side in an attempt to find an escape route from the conversation. Eventually, mocking her son's life decisions became a bore to her and she excused herself, allowing me to exit in the other direction.

"Carolina!" I led out an inward groan, but took it back when I turned to see Penny Lombardi in a black cocktail dress. Her red hair shone against her pale skin, her limbs skinny and outstretched. I smiled when I saw her, happy to see someone who I didn't need to entertain.

"Hey Penny, how are you?" She shrugged, swallowing the last of the golden liquid in her glass and placing it on the tray of a waitress passing by.

"You know, I'm alive. How have you been, with the investigations and stuff? I've been hearing crazy things." We walked together into the next room, and she grabbed two more champagne glasses, offering one to me. I took it from her.

"Yeah, there's been lots of questions. They don't really know anything yet." I kept my answers vague, aware that what Penny heard would most likely be edited and reproduced to her friends. Penny's mother was similar to Mrs. Garcia-a gossip fanatic-and the trait had been handed down.

"Well, as long as you're dealing. You've just got to loosen up a bit." She took a large sip from her glass and I paused, looking around at the food being distributed. When she was finished, I took a lighter sip from my own, swallowing the bubbly fluid. "I have to go though, my mother's beckoning me." To her left, I saw she was telling the truth, and watched her stomp over to where her mother spoke with another heavy set woman. I turned away, content to focus my attention somewhere else.

"Hey! Look who it is!" Only a few steps farther, I froze again in my place. "Castillo actually makes an appearance at her own party." I turned around to where the voice came from, a senior in my high school named Kevin Wells. He was a classic football player type, complete with last name references and a dating history that closely resembled the cheerleading roster. He was a tall, broad shouldered boy with a thick neck, a short buzz cut and a killer grin.

Kevin was standing with some other boys I recognized: Two more football players in my grade and one who had been kicked off the team for an unfortunate incident involving alcohol. I approached them now, heels clicking on the marble flooring.

"Finally decided to show up, did you?" Kevin asked, and I rolled my eyes. The circle of boys in front of me were dressed in various shades of blue button downs. Some wore jackets, others just donning loosened ties around their necks.

"This isn't really my scene." I said in an attempt to explain my whereabouts for the last hour and a half. The boys shared a glance and I suddenly felt unwanted in the circle, crossing my arms against my body.

"Much rather be on the field, wouldn't you?" It took a second to register in my head, but I pried my eyes away from the crowds of adults and back to Kevin in order to nod a yes to his question. I was an active participant in sports at my school-aside from the soccer captain, I had previously held spots on track, softball and lacrosse. It wasn't common knowledge that cocktail parties weren't my specialty. "Look who it is, Farmer!"

Kevin's voice broke me away from my thoughts, where the circle of boys was now greeting another-Samuel Farmer. I took a sip of my champagne as I turned, aware of the sudden tension that was oblivious to the group. Sam was dressed differently, wearing a red shirt with a black tie. The boys greeted him first, before he turned to me.

"Hey Carolina. I haven't seen you since Gretchen's, how have you been?" For about five seconds, the group of guys seemed focused on each other, giving Sam a minute to speak to me.

"I'm okay, it's just a little weird. How about you?" He smiled at me and nodded.

"I'm good! I was thinking, after what happened at Gretchens-"

"Carolina!" My mother's voice chimed in, cutting through the chatter of the guests like a knife. We both turned to doorway, where she floated in, holding her dress away from her shoes. She turned left and right, looking for me.

"Hold that thought, I'll be right back." I answered, internally groaning as I headed over to where she stood.

"Oh! There you are. Here she is!" She seemed to be speaking only to herself, but the false assurance that I was indeed here couldn't hurt. She turned and began walking out of the room quickly in her flats, and I assumed I was intended to follow.

We squirmed past the bundles of guests and into the kitchen, where my mother finally turned to face me.

"The men from the police station are here, and I'd like you to take them upstairs so he can settle into a spare bedroom. Try to keep it on the DL though, the last thing we need right now is a rumor that my daughter is running around with someone." She took a sip from her wine.

"Is it really necessary to have someone stay with me?" But she was busy now, reprimanding a chef for his cooking skills.

For a moment I considered turning around and rejoining the boy's conversation-I suddenly needed to know what Sam had been about to say. But I decided to oblique my mother's wishes, and I turned and walked into the front hallway, smiling politely at anyone who was not already immersed in conversation.

I wasn't really sure what I was looking for-I highly doubted my mother would allow an officer in his uniform to mingle with her guests-but I decided it was best to head towards the entrance way. I was looking for a man who seemed out of place: and sure enough, I found him.

As I entered the hallway, a group of women stood out to me. They were huddled too close to be discussing their children, and cackling too much to be gossiping about their neighbors. I watched the group of housewives as they turned to face the outsider who stood next to the door.

There indeed, was the one who didn't fit in. He was a tall, well built man with broad shoulders. Unlike the rest of the guests, who wore only the most expensive designer clothing, he was dressed in noticeably cheaper clothing. Average department store pants with a gray button down shirt under a darker gray vest. The ensemble matched well, but was nothing compared to the smooth italian threads that surrounded me. His hair was a thick brown, framing his jaw line. He wore a pair of large framed glasses in front of his face, the kind that teenagers in my school wouldn't be caught dead in.

As I entered the room, The circle of women let out a high pitched laugh.

"Denise! You're so bad!"

I took a few more steps, before stopping short when I realized what they were talking about.

They thought he was hot.

As I got closer, I suddenly realized what they were talking about. Under his glasses, I could see the distant glimmer of a pair of blue eyes. Under his shirt, the faint outline of muscles in his chest, arms and jawline. His hands were in his pockets as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, taking in the scenery. Almost awkward, his appearance held a certain appeal.

As the women turned to look at me, I realized that I was standing in the middle of the entrance way, gawking. I shook it off and approached the man, trying to possess what I could of my mother's social tactics.

"Excuse me, are you. . .?" I paused, not wanting to address him as an officer in public. I could feel eyes on my back, and I wondered what gossip would be said about this stranger.

"Noah Cooper." I took his outstretched hand shook it, taking notice of his strong grip.

"Carolina Castillo. Why don't we go inside." I led him into the house, past the kitchen and onto the porch. "It's quieter out here."

We sat down at a small table with chairs. I watched his eyes take in the scenery: the bar on the porch, the in-ground pool in the back, complete with a jacuzzi. I twiddled my thumbs, wondering what my mother would say to break the silence.

"Would you like something the drink?" The words spit out of my mouth before I would think. I didn't wait for him to answer, instead I grabbed two champagnes from a waiter passing by and handed him one. As I took a sip of mine, he spoke.

"Aren't you a little young for alcohol?" I raised my eyebrows, but didn't take my lips off the glass until I had drank at least half of the bubbly fluid.

"This is my house, actually. It's totally legal with my parent's consent." I turned the glass around in my fingers.

"Your parents don't seem to be paying attention." He said, taking observation of the couples passing by, none of which were my parents.

"Then you've learned the first thing about the Castillo family." I sat back in my chair. "So about this arrangement. . ."

"Oh yes, I've already been told. I am to stay in the spare bedroom closest to you, accompany you to your every destination, and then take you back home again. I'm a glorified bodyguard." His words were coded in a thick layer of sarcasm and unhappiness for the situation. My stomach bubbled with anger.

"Well you can listen to me then, I don't know which department head gave you these instructions, but that won't be necessary. We've obviously established that the people with the money make the decisions, or else you wouldn't be here. So you can stay in whichever spare bedroom is most fitting, you can drop me off at school and pick me up at 7:30 after practice. I'm not seven, I'm seventeen. And no matter what you learned in school, I know the person you're looking for. And not from some stupid profile."

I finished my champagne in a quick swish, placing the glass on the tray of an oncoming waiter.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have guests to entertain."