Finding Flynn

by Alexandria Bishop

  “Baba O’Reilly” by The Who

  “We’re Not Gonna Take It” by Twisted Sister

  “My Own Worst Enemy” by Lit

  “Breakdown” by Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers

  “Behind Blue Eyes” by The Who

  “I Would be Sad” by The Avett Brothers

  “Last Resort” by Papa Roach

  “For You” by Staind

  “Rise Above” by Black Flag

  “Riot Girl” by Good Charlotte

  Somewhere Other than Hell Playlist for Ashtyn

  “Somewhere in Neverland (acoustic)” by All Time Low

  “Won’t Go Home” by 3PM

  “Kiss Me” by New Found Glory

  “Here’s to the Night” by Eve 6

  “Always Love” by Nada Surf

  “If These Sheets were States” by All Time Low

  “Have Faith in Me” by A Day to Remember

  “Don’t Leave Me” by An Honest Year

  “Somewhere in Neverland” by All Time Low

  “Hey Thanks” by The Wonder Years

  “Oh, It Is Love” by Hellogoodbye

  “First Date” by Blink-182

  Acknowledgments

  Without the number one support of my husband, this book wouldn’t exist. Thank you so much for letting me spend so much time focusing on this novel. I promise you my editing time will be cut down with future books :) And for making the kickass logo for Marlowe. They’re officially a real pop punk band now!

  To my mom and mother-in-law, thank you both so much for your never-ending support. Even when this was a pipe dream and I barely had anything written, you both believed in me.

  To my favorite English teacher, continue being the awesome person and teacher that you are. I’m so incredibly lucky that I was able to be in your class not once but twice. You helped mold me into the writer that I am today. And thank you for giving me the needed push to finish my first draft by telling me to get off Facebook. :)

  To my beta readers: Katrina Alba, Kami Bryant, and Tara Mossinghoff, you ladies rock! You helped immensely in tweaking my book into the awesomeness that it is now. Sinceriously, I thank you!

  To CM Foss and Brooke Cumberland, you ladies have helped me immensely. From giving me amazing words of wisdom to helping me off the ledge every time I got up there, and there were plenty of times. A huge thank you to both of you!

  To Megan Bishop, I absolutely love the way my cover turned out! I’m so glad we get to work together on a professional level and that I get to call you my sister-in-law.

  To Josh McCann, thank you for helping make my book cover look amazing. You’re truly a great guy and so much fun to work with. Lets do it again!

  My amazingly awesome indie author group. Our group has grown to a ridiculous size and I wish I could name you all, but you all know who you are. Thank you for being the best and always offering up any and all advice when needed. You make me…

  To Erica Ellis, you came in and turned my manuscript into a book. Thank you so much for your insane editing skills. You taught me things that I never even knew about.

  To Kate Newburg, I am amazed at the amazing cover you came up with for me. Never in a million years would I have been able to come up with a cover even remotely similar. You are awesome woman and this cover is kickass!

  To Abbi Glines, Caylie Marcoe, and Kim Holden thank you so much for giving me permission to reference your amazing characters. I love your books immensely and everyone should go check them out!

  To my readers and fans thank you for taking a chance on me and reading my book. It means so much to me that you’re reading this and I hope you love the story as much as I do.

  Last but most definitely not least I want to thank all of the guys from All Time Low. As you could probably tell I’m a huge fan and their music played into a lot of inspiration for the entire Marlowe series. Ashtyn may have played Cards Against Humanity with them, but sadly I have not. It’s definitely a bucket list item though.

  About the Author

  Alexandria Bishop is an Oregon girl and lives there with her husband, young daughter, and fur baby. She’s been a bookworm her entire life and always dreamed of becoming a writer but never thought it would be a reality. She thanks you for taking a chance on a newbie writer and giving her book a read.

  Alexandria spends more time on social media than she would like to admit, come visit and say hi!

  Website www.alexandriabishop.com

  Facebook www.facebook.com/AuthorAlexandriaBishop

  Twitter @AllieEBishop

  Instagram @Alexandria.Bishop

  Coming Early 2016

  Falling for Hudson

  The Marlowe series continues with

  Chloe and Hudson’s story.

  Preview of To the Steadfast by Briana Gaitan

  Releases August 31, 2015

  CHAPTER ONE

  I swing my leg over the edge of the window ceil, hitting the nightstand before landing on the hardwood floor below my feet.

  “Shh!” Violet hisses. It’s barely audible over my pounding heart, but my adrenaline allows me to figure it out and soften my steps as I tiptoe away from the window in her older brother’s room. Tonight ranks at the top ten list of things I’m sure I’ll go to hell for.

  I’m not exactly proud of myself in this moment, but it’s not as bad as most of the things I do. It’s just sneaking out to an all night party. All teenagers have to try it at least once, right?

  Normally we don’t have to sneak through a bedroom window, but Violet’s parents nailed the thing shut after they caught her climbing out a few months ago. She wasn’t so much as climbing out as she was trying to sneak in one of her many conquests.

  “A little help here?” Violet asks, her body straddling the window with her skirt riding high up on her hips. I move to grab her hand to help her in, but her older brother, Mischa, gives her a boost from outside causing her to fall head first towards the ground. I try to grab her, but the drunk aren’t the most coordinated.

  “Dammit, Mischa! Are you trying to wake up Mom and Dad?”

  “Sorry,” Mischa says climbing in after his sister.

  “We still need to make it to my room and then we’re in the clear,” she says before putting her ear to the door and listening to make sure no one is out in the hallway. I do the same, hearing nothing but the static of the old television that’s left on twenty-four hours a day.

  Her parents have a tendency to roam the halls at all hours of the night. It’s not unusual for strangers to appear on their doorstep in the middle of the night. They knock until Violet’s father, whom everyone refers to as ?, gets out of bed, cursing the entire time, and gives them what they want. A fix is a fix, and an addict doesn’t have manners. At least, the ones I’ve met.

  “Okay, I got you back in, now hurry and get to bed.” Mischa pulls his shirt over his head, flips his MP3 player on, and flops onto the bed still wearing his shoes and jeans.

  “Shut up, Mischa. I’m not spending the entire summer grounded,” Violet slurs, but this only makes him laugh. I divert my eyes from his smooth chest and curse the tequila buzzing through my veins. Alcohol does crazy things to me.

  His sister throws a random dirty shirt across the room at him before sliding to the floor with her back against the door and puts her face in her hands. I feel her clammy forehead and place a wastebasket in front of her.

  “Please don’t puke,” I beg her as I pull pieces of her purple streaked hair away from her face. Violet’s had too much to drink, but not enough to cause alarm. She’ll be fine.

  “Did you have fun tonight, Cody?” she asks me.

  “So much fun.” I press a kiss to her cheek and stand up.

  “You two aren’t my problem,” Mischa mumbles. “You wanted to go to Driller’s party, I helped you out for a ride. Now for the last time, It’s almost morning, and I want to sleep so get back to Violet’s room before my parents wake and figure out you’ve been out all night.”

  I
give him a slightly frazzled look, but decide to edge him on by refusing to leave..

  “Did you have fun tonight, Mischa?” I ask, repeating his sister’s drunken words from a few seconds ago.

  “Just as much as you did,” Mischa groans. “ And I saw how much fun you were having making out with that bowtie guy.”

  Bowtie guy has a name, but I can’t remember it. I think I may have had a class with him freshman year. It doesn’t really matter though. He was cute, available, and in the right place at the right time. Putting my hands on my hips, I wink. “A little jealous are we?”

  He isn’t amused. Instead, the muscles in his face tighten up, and he straightens up as if he’s trying to make a very serious point. “I don’t get jealous, especially not over you.”

  I do the normal teenage eye rolling and pull a half-empty bottle of cheap vodka off his dresser.

  “Let’s play a game,” I say. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

  His eyebrow raises, a cheesy grin taking over his face.

  “Get your head out of the gutter, Mischa. It’s more of a show and tell. I’ll show you some random amazing talent, and if the other person can do it too, I have to take a shot. If the other person can’t do it, they take a shot. Got it?”

  “Where do you come up with these random drinking games?”

  “I just say what comes to my mind.”

  He pats the spot next to him on the bed. “Let’s play.”

  Opening the bottle, I pass it to him before sitting down on the old lumpy mattress.

  “Okay, me first. Can you do this?” I grab my lipstick from the purse round my shoulder and balance it between my breasts.

  “Hell, no.” Mischa chuckles as I apply a smudge free application.

  “Ta da!” I smack my lips at him.

  He gives a slow clap. “First off, you did not just Breakfast Club me. Second, I don’t have breasts so that was completely unfair.” He tries to hand me the bottle but I push it into his chest.

  “Drink up.”

  He takes a long swig, his first all night since he was our designated driver.

  Prying the drink from his fingers, I lean back against the headboard and kick off my heels to await his retaliation. Mischa is such a mystery, the only talent I’m aware of that he possesses is making half the town fall in love with him. He gathers his dark hair into a ponytail, the front falling out of his grasp, and cracks his neck a few times like he’s in preparation for a big fight. Reaching into the top drawer of his dresser, he pulls out a Rubik's Cube. “Speaking of fads from the eighties, I can finish this puzzle in fifteen seconds.”

  “No way!” I shriek, crossing my arms in front of my chest. Mischa and I have gone to the same school our entire lives, and even though, at seventeen, he’s only a year older than me, I know that Mischa Cromwell is not a prodigy. He’s never been an outstanding student.

  “Believe it, but you can’t tell anyone.” he says, giving the cube to me. I mix it up the best I can, even hiding it behind my back so he can’t memorize the moves. I give it back to him and grab the old brass clock on his nightstand to time the seconds. Before I begin counting, he takes a quick look over all the sides and gives me this slightly evil grin like he knows the secret to life or something.

  “Ready, set, and go!”

  Mischa begins spinning the pieces so fast I can hardly keep up. It’s like he doesn’t even stop to think as his fingers spin the sides into place. Suddenly, he throws the cube on the bed and sits up before hitting his chest in a victorious man thump. I pick up the cube, in awe over all the colored pieces put back in their original spots.

  So caught up in the glory of his secret, I’d forgot to time him, but there isn’t a doubt in my mind that he did that in less than fifteen seconds. “You should be on the Guinness book of world records or something!” I take a swig of the vodka because there is no way on earth I will be able to do that. Now I’ve been a straight A student my entire life, until recently that is, and I have never been able to solve a Rubik's cube, not even close.

  “Why haven’t you ever shown anyone that?”

  He shrugs, pulls the bottle from my hands, and empties it in one long chug.

  “What other things have you been hiding from the world?” I ask. Five minutes ago, I was pretty positive Mischa was a borderline idiot. All I’ve ever seen him do is goof off in class, skip school, and flirt with half the girls at my school.

  “I can pretty much solve any equation in my head.”

  “Quick, what’s the square of 987?”

  Mischa’s eyes close for a brief moment as he calculates the number. “I’m a little tipsy, but I believe it is 974,169.

  My mouth drops open in amazement. “Hell if I know, but it sounds right. Why in the hell are you not already in college or something? I bet you could get any scholarship you wanted if you just tried a little.”

  His mouth tightens as he opens another bottle of alcohol from his nightstand and flops down on the bed beside me.

  “Teachers don’t care about me. They take one look at my name and automatically dub me as a troublemaker.I’m expected to fail before I even begin.I’m pretty much a self-proclaimed autodiadact. Everything I know comes from experience or the local library.”

  “It doesn’t help that you never come to class,” I point out.

  “School is boring. I’d rather learn what I want to learn. Besides, not all of us get the privilege of having parents who support our education.”

  “You think my parent’s support me?” I scoff. Boy did he have it all wrong.

  Violet snorts from her spot by the bedroom door before mumbling something. I completely forgot she was passed out over there. Suddenly feeling hot, I lift my long brown hair thats stuck to the back of my neck and fan myself. “I guess we better get back to Violet’s room.”

  All I want is to pass out before her parents start blasting Rush on the record player. God-forbid teenagers sleep in on a Saturday morning.

  “Can I have my keys back?” I hold out my hand. He gives me a mysterious grin before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small gold keychain. He dangles them above my head, beyond my reach.

  “Can you say please?”

  I swipe at them once, remembering why I found him so irritating at times. “You’re drunk. Stop messing around.”

  He lowers the keys a bit. When I reach out, he lifts them higher just to spite me. “Now come on. No reason to act that way. You know you love me.”

  My face heats, which I hope he doesn’t notice in the dim moonlight. If he only knew.

  “I hate you, Mischa Cromwell.”

  “No, you don’t. You love me. All the girls love me.”

  Now there’s the Mischa I know, the Mischa the whole town sees. “That’s disgusting. You’re Violet’s brother.”

  “So?” He lets the key dangle down further near his crotch, but this time allows me to snatch it from his hand.

  I give him a disgusted sigh. “Thank you. And for your information, you’re too old for me.”

  “Now come on. I’m seventeen, you’re sixteen and you know what they say about girls maturing faster.”

  “Are you asking me out?.” I ask, only half serious. There’s no way he’s serious.

  He stills, thinking over what I said. “No, I don’t date.”

  It’s suprisingly painful to hear, but I keep a still expression. “Violet would kill you.”

  I attempt to walk over to where my best friend lay passed out on the floor, but he grabs my hand. My blood pressure quickens. The hormones pulse through my veins, begging me to slap him and jump him at the same time. Ten minutes ago, I would have jumped him with no hesitation.The problem is, this is just a game to him. Flirting with all of Violet’s friends. But this is the first time he’s done it to me. We’ve attended dozens of parties, spent hours in the car together, and even slept in the same bed, but I’ve always been sexually invisible to him.

  Since I was fourteen I’d spent every waking
moment trying to get Mischa Cromwell to notice me. I’d parade around in cute little clothes and try to seem grown up. For years, I lived in the shadows of every other prettier, skinnier girl. I’d see him on the street, at the diner, at the fair, and wish he’d look my way. He was the town bad boy. The guy all the parents warned their daughters about. Last year, the greatest thing happened. Violet was assigned to me for private tutoring in the after-school program where I volunteered and suddenly we were best friends. I had my in, and we stayed friend long after she stopped needing helpin Algebra.

  “I can’t help it you got so hot. What happened to your...” He puts his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

  “I got contacts.” I instinctively reach up and run my fingers across my eyebrows.

  “And the…” He nods to my chest with a look of hunger in his eyes.

  I cross my hands in front my low cut shirt and take a slow deep breath to keep myself from fainting.

  Don’t pass out.

  But he’s flirting with you. Really flirting with you.

  “I’ve obviously grown up.”

  “You sure have.” He wiggles his tongue at me in a way that makes my insides molten hot. He grabs my arm and pulls me onto the bed with him. As we hit the mattress, I can already feel him hard against my thighs.

  “You’re drunk, Mischa,” I say, pretending to play hard to get.Violet being passed out in the corner is the only thing stopping me from kissing him right here and now, just to see what it’s like. I think with my heart, he thinks with his dick. It’s a messy situation if you ask me. A ticking time bomb for failure. He pushes my brown hair off my face and looks me in the eyes. “How many guys have you been with, Cody?”

  I push off of him into a standing position. A sudden need to impress him flows through me, but my real number is embarrassing. Zero.