omeoneasked me that day, what if I had a chance to re-live my past regrets and all the wrong decisions. Would I go back into the past and change them? Would I choose the right dress at prom and go out with the right guy? Would I settle for "normal" instead of taking risks? Would I choose him if I'd been given a second chance? My answers were all yes. I would make the same choices I'd made because that's a life lesson right there.

A dozen of screw-ups that always reminded me what life could have been without them. There was the good in life and the bad. If I were to remove all the bad, the good remained, and it just reminded me of what I could have lost if I hadn't made those choices. So I don't regret anything because the past is what makes me a person, and the pain makes all that real. No matter how many people around me would say that it was a nightmare, I knew it wasn't.

They remember my struggles, the pain, the tears. I remember the boy who gave me a real smile, who stole my heart, who almost destroyed me and yet, still loved me the same.

"Vicky, you're not even dressed yet!" I heard my younger sister Hazel whine from downstairs as she made her way to my room, deliberately stomping on the stairs.

I halted in the middle of my diary writing and gave her a look. "What?"

She glanced at the diary in my hand and rolled her eyes, maybe even yawned a little. She hated books like a five-year-old hated broccoli and every green vegetable. "Nerd! You're still in fucking PJS! It's Kevin's birthday! Hello? Did you forget?"

I snorted. "You have the audacity to say that when you're in bunny pajamas yourself."

She mimicked my talking, and I hated that because she nailed it every time. "It takes me ten minutes to get ready, while you take two hours just for makeup." She said.

I snorted. "I don't even use that much makeup," I argued.

"Yes, you do because a face like yours needs layers and layers of makeup while natural beauties like moi...need none." She said sarcastically, flipping her perfect black hair like a diva. She was really childish, my little sister.

I laughed, "Says the person who spends more money in Sephora than on college tuitions fees. The world sure is coming to an end."

"Ha! At least I didn't get a nose job done."

"Seriously, Hazel?" I asked. "You're such a sore loser. You didn't even have a good comeback this time."

It wasn't like Hazel to admit defeat; she liked to make up lies for comebacks so she would have something to say back to me, like the nose job part. On the outside, people would think Hazel was my stepsister, the princess of the house while I was picked from beside the dumpster but that really wasn't the case. We were sisters in flesh and blood. Hazel had just turned eighteen and I was twenty-seven. We had nine years of the age gap and loved insulting each other on a daily basis just for laughs. My mother had come to terms with the fact that we'd stopped maturing after kindergarten.

Hazel has the outgoing personality between the two of us. She was the hilarious sister, the easy going one who smiled more often, while I was a complete opposite. I was an introvert who liked to stay home and read books rather than go to parties.

She threw open my wardrobe and pulled out a silver sequin gown, one that she'd gifted me on my birthday. It was a long gown with a shoulder slit on one side. My figure looked bomb in it and Hazel knew that well. The silver matched my platinum blonde hair. The dress was so glittery and shimmery; it made me look like a Disney princess.

She then threw a matching thong towards me. "This will go well it with."

I couldn't even argue with my sister because she was right. Thongs always did justice to a beautiful dress. She was younger than I and yet she kept telling me what I should be wearing and what I shouldn't.

"I don't even have a boyfriend, what's the point of me wearing a thong, huh? The chances of you getting laid are much greater." I added.

"You never know, some guy would want a quickie and then he would see your grandma undies and you'd die celibate just like Aunt Rory."

"Aunt Rory was a widow." I laughed. "I'm sure she didn't have a lack of male company even after twenty years of her becoming a widow."

"You're right. I wish we still had all that money." Hazel said simply.

And then the room was filled with an awkward silence. Once upon a time, our family used to be wealthy, but due to a small miscalculation and my father's ability to trust blindly, we experienced a great loss. A loss that cost us our flourishing business, our lifestyle and most importantly, our family. We sold our old three-story house in the wealthiest part of town for a small house in a decent locality. We were fallen from grace, literally. It was a good thing we still had the bakery.

Most of my friends had left for college, along with my twin brother Archer, but I'd stayed back and decided to help mom with our bakery. Plus, I'd always wanted to be a writer so I was taking creative writing classes in the community college. It had been convenient that way. Mom couldn't have handled the business alone, and Hazel needed someone to keep an eye out on her. It had worked well for me.

"You know how much I hate parties, right?" For the past week, Hazel had been excited about Kevin's birthday party. Kevin was our old neighbor, and we practically grew up together. He was a sweet guy, the others not so much. What Hazel's innocent mind didn't understand was that we didn't belong to that status anymore. There were some people who looked down on us, and that's why I stayed the hell away from parties.

"Can't you go alone? I'll be your designated driver."

"Vicky, come on! Please. We hardly have any parties anymore and Kevin invited us, he even texted me thrice. If you won't go, Mom won't let me either."

I groaned and almost buried my face in the pillow. "Give me thirty minutes."

"Woohoo."

I reminded myself, I was doing this only for the happiness of my little sister.

When I climbed out of the car, I had to force myself to not look at the house right next to Kevin's and remembered all those years we'd spent there. The yard still had the swings my father had installed when we were kids. A sense of nostalgia settled in. The new owners, Mr. and Mrs. Wesley kept the house locked and came down only for short vacations. Which to be honest was a waste of a lovely home.

Hazel tugged at my arm. "Come on, Vicky."

Hazel looked cute in her short black dress and her dark hair pulled up in a high ponytail, her lips a dark shade of purple. If I dressed as outrageously as Hazel, I knew I'd end up looking like a witch on a Halloween night, or worse end up scaring the kids in the neighborhood. She looked like a Goth Queen while I looked like an Ice Princess. With my natural hair color being platinum blonde, I was hard to not notice. My skin had a bit of a tan and my eyes were a similar shade of silver while Hazel's were charcoal black. People didn't think we were sisters until they looked closely and saw similarities in our jawline and the straight nose. Hazel always said she was envious of me because I was prettier, and I didn't believe her. Hazel was beautiful in her own way, but she called me "exotic" and herself a "peasant".

Hazel laughed as we made our way inside the house. "They are all staring at you." she pointed.

"That's why I don't like coming here," I confessed.

"If I were you, I'd enjoy the attention," Hazel said. "God, Vicky, you have a smoking hot body, walk like you own this damn planet."

Little sisters were annoying.

Inside the house, we met familiar people and made small talk. Unlike the rowdy parties in high school, this one was on the sophisticated end and I was glad for that. I wasn't really keen on seeing half-naked, drunk teenagers taking part in orgies.

I saw only about thirty or so people in the living area and near the mini-bar, busy having a good time.

"Vicky! Hazel! It's so nice to see you girls here. I'm so glad you guys could make it." That was Kevin who welcomed us with a broad smile.

"Happy Birthday, Kev!" I said and gave him a hug.

"Thanks darling." He said and then his eyes lit up when he noticed the box in my hand.

"Did you bake a cake for me?" He asked, snatching the box out of my hand.

I laughed at his enthusiasm, "Cupcakes, and Hazel helped me."

"If Hazel helped you with the baking, I'm not so sure I'd like it." He whispered and we giggled when we saw Hazel making her way towards us with her present.

There were multi-colored cupcakes, all decorated with his name letters and fresh fruits.

"So beautiful, darling, how sweet." Kevin cooed.

I had the impression he was going to eat those cakes all by himself and not spare even one piece for his boyfriend.

"You look absolutely gorgeous today." He said appraising me. "If I was straight, I'd marry you one hundred percent."

Kevin was openly gay, and his parents were actually okay with it and even welcomed his boyfriend Grant into the family. Lucky him.

"That's the sweetest thing a guy has ever said to me." I said, "tell me, why are all the nice guys either in a committed relationship or gay?"

And suddenly Hazel jumped into his arms. "Where are my drinks?" That was her first question to him, no how are you, happy birthday, none of that. My sister was losing her manners.

"Hazel," I warned her.

"Happy Birthday, Kevin! Well, it wasn't much but Vicky and I bought a shirt you liked from H&M. Sorry, our budget allows us just that, wish we could..."

"Oh god, Hazel! It's a gift, you're not supposed to tell him all that." I was embarrassed for both of us.

Kevin just gave me a reassuring smile, like he knew my sister too well and he wasn't pompous like the rest of his friends. "I'm sure I'm going to love that shirt. I trust Hazel's choice." He winked at me, he was more excited about the cupcakes.

"Aw." She cooed. "Do you have vodka?"

"You're not legal yet." I reminded her.

"But I'm responsible and a grown up."

"Just one drink," I told her.

She jutted her tongue out at me. So much for being a grown up. Sometimes I wished I was like Hazel. Childish and immature, not having a care in the world. Teasing each other was our way to show sisterly love, we talked in insults. If we weren't throwing shit at each other, then either of us wasn't home.

The bartender asked me if I would like a Cosmopolitan and I nodded at him. A few seconds later, I was served the pink drink in a highball glass, a little umbrella on it. I took a sip and the taste of vodka hit me which was mixed with cranberry juice and something else. I downed the drink in a swig and realized that was a dumb move. I hadn't even relished the drink.

"Can I have another one, please?" I asked the bartender.

"Sure." He said, his eyes made a quick assessment. "What's your name?"

I smiled. I knew it would come to this; I had the names "boy magnet" and "exotic creature" scribbled on my forehead with a marker, "Vicky." I answered.

He scratched his goatee, flashing me a knowing smile. "Is that short for something?"

I was kind of hoping he would drop it. "Victoria."

"It's a nice name." He said, and maybe there was a little disappointment on his face that I hadn't asked him back for his name. He probably thought I was acting like I was too good for anyone, which wasn't the case. I'd just stopped trying too hard at anything.

A lock of my silver hair brushed my cheek so I pushed it back behind my ear. Hazel had spent twenty-minutes curling them to perfection. Just then something caught my eye.

No. It was someone.

I squinted my eyes in the dim light and that's when my blood ran cold.

Why was he here?

He couldn't! Last time I'd heard about him, he was miles away. He'd gone to Harvard and then left for aviation school in the UK, and even employed by an airline so why was he back?

Maybe it was the drink making me see things.

He was laughing at something Cleo Thomas was saying, and then he said something back to him. A short brunette walked towards him and whispered in his ear, Ella...something. I couldn't remember the girl's name. He gave her his lady-killer smile and proceeded to ignore her.

It was hard to forget those azure eyes and the unruly dark brown hair. His confident body posture, and the way his eyes swept around the room like a predator and finally locked on mine.

My world was coming crashing down.

There was no mistaking it. I wasn't dreaming.

It was Tyler Lockhart.