now that Bryan isn’t around.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I say. Not that my mom ever bugs me about my grades. Nope. Only Maya. I close my eyes. “Listen, I have to go.” I don’t want to spend the next hour being lectured about all the ways I’m screwing up my future. Especially since I’m fixing it all on my own. With my brilliant plan.
“Okay. Just try not to obsess about Bryan breaking up with you.”
“I won’t,” I promise. Because as long as Freshman Me doesn’t go to Celia’s party, I’ll be breaking up with him first.
chapter six
Friday, September 9 Freshman Year
“Smile!” Joelle orders, holding out the camera and cramming me, Tash, Karin, and herself into the frame. “Okay, let’s go,” she says after the flash goes off. She strides toward the front door of Celia’s ginormous house.
“Wait!” Karin cries, grabbing my arm. “Is my makeup okay?”
“Perfect,” I tell her. “How’s mine?”
“Fabo. My mom’s lipstick looks gorge on you.”
I give her a big fake smile. “Does it make my braces more or less obvious?”
“Less. Definitely. How’s my breath?” She exhales.
“Minty. Mine?” I breathe out.
“Like a fresh fall day.”
“Are you guys always such freaks before parties?” Tash asks, adjusting her glasses. She’s wearing the same thing she wore to school today—jeans and a black shirt.
“Yup,” we both answer, clinging to each other’s arms. It’s our pre-party ritual.
Joelle pushes her shoulders back, strikes an I’m-hot-stuff pose in her red minidress, and rings the doorbell. I’m not the biggest fan of red. But Joelle makes it work.
“Would you like a breath test?” Karin asks Tash as we huddle outside the door.
“I’ll pass,” she says.
When no one answers, Joelle turns the doorknob. It opens onto a marble entranceway packed with Florence West students—some of whom I recognize, most of whom I don’t. Harry Travis is standing with Kellerman and Sean Puttin by the stairs. Harry’s eyes are extra blue and his cheeks are extra rosy. Definitely hot. Sean flicks up his collar. He’s super preppy—always looks like he’s about to play tennis. And Kellerman might be the only guy in the room wearing sweatpants instead of jeans.
I peer around the room, wondering if Bryan’s here.
“Joelle, Tash, hi,” Celia says, gliding toward us in low jeans and a strapless black top. “Joelle, you look like you’re here for a Christmas party. Adorable. And, Tash! I’m so glad you’re here. My parents keep their booze above the fridge and no one here is tall enough to reach.”
“Hi, Celia,” Tash says dryly. “Do you know Karin and Devi?”
Her forehead crinkles. “Debbie?”
“Devi,” I say.
“That’s a name?”
“It’s short for Devorah,” I explain, feeling my cheeks burn.
“Adorable,” she says, twirling and sparkling. She’s definitely wearing glitter on her shoulders. Next she turns to Karin. “You have adorable hair. I bet it would look amazing if you blew it straight.”
“Oh, um … thanks?” Karin responds uncertainly.
Celia blows us a kiss and disappears into the living room.
“Is my hair too curly?” Karin whispers to me, her brows furrowed.
“Ignore her,” Tash says, and closes the door behind us. The lights are low, the R & B is blasting, and I’m pretty sure it’s at least a hundred degrees in here. I slip off my sweater and cram it into my purse. I hope that in all this evening’s craziness, I remembered to put on deodorant.
I wasn’t even sure if I should come to the party after the prank call I got.
What kind of horrible, obnoxious person calls another girl and tells her to stay home and organize her closet instead of going to a party?
Maya convinced me to come anyway.
“It’s probably someone who wasn’t invited to the party and doesn’t want to be the only person stuck at home,” Maya insisted during our call. “Ignore. Go. Stop answering your phone.”
So here I am. I always listen to
“Thanks, Mom,” I say. Not that my mom ever bugs me about my grades. Nope. Only Maya. I close my eyes. “Listen, I have to go.” I don’t want to spend the next hour being lectured about all the ways I’m screwing up my future. Especially since I’m fixing it all on my own. With my brilliant plan.
“Okay. Just try not to obsess about Bryan breaking up with you.”
“I won’t,” I promise. Because as long as Freshman Me doesn’t go to Celia’s party, I’ll be breaking up with him first.
chapter six
Friday, September 9 Freshman Year
“Smile!” Joelle orders, holding out the camera and cramming me, Tash, Karin, and herself into the frame. “Okay, let’s go,” she says after the flash goes off. She strides toward the front door of Celia’s ginormous house.
“Wait!” Karin cries, grabbing my arm. “Is my makeup okay?”
“Perfect,” I tell her. “How’s mine?”
“Fabo. My mom’s lipstick looks gorge on you.”
I give her a big fake smile. “Does it make my braces more or less obvious?”
“Less. Definitely. How’s my breath?” She exhales.
“Minty. Mine?” I breathe out.
“Like a fresh fall day.”
“Are you guys always such freaks before parties?” Tash asks, adjusting her glasses. She’s wearing the same thing she wore to school today—jeans and a black shirt.
“Yup,” we both answer, clinging to each other’s arms. It’s our pre-party ritual.
Joelle pushes her shoulders back, strikes an I’m-hot-stuff pose in her red minidress, and rings the doorbell. I’m not the biggest fan of red. But Joelle makes it work.
“Would you like a breath test?” Karin asks Tash as we huddle outside the door.
“I’ll pass,” she says.
When no one answers, Joelle turns the doorknob. It opens onto a marble entranceway packed with Florence West students—some of whom I recognize, most of whom I don’t. Harry Travis is standing with Kellerman and Sean Puttin by the stairs. Harry’s eyes are extra blue and his cheeks are extra rosy. Definitely hot. Sean flicks up his collar. He’s super preppy—always looks like he’s about to play tennis. And Kellerman might be the only guy in the room wearing sweatpants instead of jeans.
I peer around the room, wondering if Bryan’s here.
“Joelle, Tash, hi,” Celia says, gliding toward us in low jeans and a strapless black top. “Joelle, you look like you’re here for a Christmas party. Adorable. And, Tash! I’m so glad you’re here. My parents keep their booze above the fridge and no one here is tall enough to reach.”
“Hi, Celia,” Tash says dryly. “Do you know Karin and Devi?”
Her forehead crinkles. “Debbie?”
“Devi,” I say.
“That’s a name?”
“It’s short for Devorah,” I explain, feeling my cheeks burn.
“Adorable,” she says, twirling and sparkling. She’s definitely wearing glitter on her shoulders. Next she turns to Karin. “You have adorable hair. I bet it would look amazing if you blew it straight.”
“Oh, um … thanks?” Karin responds uncertainly.
Celia blows us a kiss and disappears into the living room.
“Is my hair too curly?” Karin whispers to me, her brows furrowed.
“Ignore her,” Tash says, and closes the door behind us. The lights are low, the R & B is blasting, and I’m pretty sure it’s at least a hundred degrees in here. I slip off my sweater and cram it into my purse. I hope that in all this evening’s craziness, I remembered to put on deodorant.
I wasn’t even sure if I should come to the party after the prank call I got.
What kind of horrible, obnoxious person calls another girl and tells her to stay home and organize her closet instead of going to a party?
Maya convinced me to come anyway.
“It’s probably someone who wasn’t invited to the party and doesn’t want to be the only person stuck at home,” Maya insisted during our call. “Ignore. Go. Stop answering your phone.”
So here I am. I always listen to
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