My Stepbrother's Baby

This was such a bad idea. I looked around anxiously as I moved through the crowd. I just knew somebody would bust me as the imposter I was.

I can't believe I had actually gone through with this.

It had been such a fun, and simple, plan at the time. I'd show up at the party, pretend I was someone else, have a night of fun, and go home to dream about it. It would be a party to remember, for me at least. I never got invited to these kinds of parties, so I'd invited my-self.

The reality of pretending to be someone else started to make me even more nervous. I had to fight the urge to push down my short skirt and pull up the low-cut top. I'd found both at a second-hand store and had them hidden in my closet since my senior year had started. I'd stared at the outfit more than once throughout my senior year, but I'd always reach for something else.

Not tonight.

I'd followed online videos to figure out how to turn my long, blonde mop into perfect beach waves and ap-plied makeup after following vloggers on Youtube. As I looked at my reflection in the mirror I didn't recognize myself.

My blue eyes shone, and even I was impressed with the change in my appearance.

I headed to the party with all the confidence in the world. They would think that I was some girl from anot-her school. Some hot chick for sure.

It didn't take me long to figure out that nobody rec-ognized me, at all. I was offered drinks with smiles, and I got the kind of looks from boys that I'd only dreamed about. More than one glanced at the bare legs that were on display, and quite a few stared down at the cleavage I always kept well hidden.

Tonight, I was going to fulfill all of my high school dreams, before it was too late, and graduation came along. I felt a moment of panic as I let my gaze wander around the large living room of the house. There were too many people around, some with drinks in hand, while others danced or stood too close to each other in dark corners. My eyes didn't know where to look and bounced from one person, or couple, to the next. I was both shy and curious at the same time. My eyes wanted to linger, to watch how people interacted with each oth-er, but I was afraid I'd get caught staring.

I'd been at the party for a while when some tall blonde girl I didn't know dragged me back into the liv-ing room and declared they needed one more person to play. She gave me a wink as she pushed me down to the floor in front of the fireplace and declared the circle complete. I stared around and had to fight the urge to run out of there to hide. I called myself all kinds of stu-pid. If I'd known how that game would end, maybe I'd have stood up and gone home, but then, maybe not?

How was I to know a game of spin the bottle could change my life?

The first spin saw Evan Stewart, the host of party and the boy that had my heart, even though he didn't even know I was alive, as the first to go to the closet to await a partner.

One spins and whoever the top of the bottle stops on goes into a closet, to await the next person that arrives. You're generally supposed to make out, but I didn't think that really happened. Not always anyway.

The blonde girl that drug me jumped on the bottle as soon as Evan shut the door. Her eyes weren't on the bot-tle, though, they were on that door. I guess I wasn't the only one with a crush. Unfortunately for her, the prac-ticed spin she gave the bottle meant it landed with the neck pointed at me, not at her. That didn't stop those in the circle; they all cheered, stood up, dragged me to the closet, and threw me in.

Panic surged through me and I wanted to bang on the door, but I was very conscious of the young man be-hind me. The boy I, and nearly every other girl in our school had a crush on. The 18 year old boy with a man's deep, suave voice.

"You're the girl from Wentworth, right?"

I jumped when he spoke. It was dark in the closet and coupled with the noise from outside it sounded way too close and far too intimate. So close and intimate that my body shivered. I jumped once again when he placed his arm against the door, just above my head, and practi-cally caged me in. I looked up, but couldn't see him, it was too dark in the closet.