Page 3


“So,” I say, jumping off the counter, “when do we leave?”
“So we’re going to your step-dad’s fancy-ass lake house for the summer?” Melanie cries, rushing after me as I run towards Biology, which I’m late for.
I’ve been friends with Melanie Reynolds for six years now. She’s a crazy, hotheaded girl who clashes with me more than she gets me, yet it works for us. She’s gorgeous, with long raven hair and dark brown eyes. She’s got a killer bod and some serious ’tude to go with it.
“Yeah,” I yell over my shoulder. “My three, ah, step-brothers will be there too.”
She claps her hands. “Are they hot?”
I snort. “Stop it, gross.”
“Hey, my mom isn’t married to their dad, I can look.”
“Melanie,” I warn, stopping and spinning around to glare at her.
She scoffs and waves a hand casually. “Oh come on, it’ll be awesome fun. Just think, there might be some hot, rich men holidaying for us to crack on to. It’s time you got over what’s-his-face.”
What’s-his-face is a man I met a month or so before Mom met Jack. I don’t know his name. I don’t know where he lives. All I know is I met him during a difficult time in my life, and we had the best weekend together. He made me feels things I have never felt up until that moment, and have never felt again. I’ve not forgotten him; there’s a good chance I had insta-love for the guy. Until he upped and left me and I never saw him again.
It hurt. I won’t lie. I’d thought there was something between us. I’d thought he felt it too, but he was no more than a player. I was naïve. The end. I’ve dated since, but none of it felt right. I don’t know what it was about him, but he changed something inside me. Helped me grow up. Helped me understand there is life after pain.
“I am over him,” I mutter, turning and rushing off again.
“Then let’s get excited about this summer.”
“I’m excited,” I yell over my shoulder as I reach the door to my classroom.
“I’ll call you later,” she cries as I slip inside.
“Miss Beladone, thank you for making the effort to show up,” Mr. Scotland mutters.
He’s old, balding and angry. I grit my teeth and take my seat, not bothering to answer. He’ll only make my life a living hell and shoot back every excuse I give.
“Not even an apology for disrupting the class?”
“Sorry,” I mumble.
Bring on summer.
I twirl in front of the mirror with a massive smile on my face. Since finishing high school and turning eighteen, I haven’t had the chance to go out. Melanie and I decided tonight was the night. We’re free of study and strings, plus we have a small break before we start college. We might as well make the most of it. We’re going out with a bunch of friends to a popular spot on the water.
“I love this dress,” I breathe, running my hands down the tight material.
“I love it more,” Mel says, bundling her hair in a messy yet totally sexy mass on top of her head. She leaves small curls that trail down and frame her face.
“How do you do that?” I ask.
I point to her hair. “Make your hair look so freaking awesome without effort?”
She grins. “I have no idea. Come here, let me fix yours.”
I step forward and she pulls me closer, fixing my dark locks. She runs her fingers through them, makes a few shaking motions and then gets out the hairspray. “There,” she says, happy with the final picture. “Check it out.”
I turn and stare in the mirror. She has teased my hair out to there and it looks fabulous. “Super!”
“Let’s go.”
We rush down the hall and call out to Mom, who is busy baking in the kitchen.
“Have fun, girls, stay safe.”
“We will!” we both cry in unison.
Just as we step out the front door a car comes to a halt at the curb. Three of our friends are inside. Two of those are guys; one is Jamison, Melanie’s dreamboat. We rush towards the car and I purposely let Melanie go first so she’s squashed between Jamison and I in the back seat.
“Hey guys!” I smile.
“What’s up?” Pete, who is driving, grins.
I beam. “Not much, Petey, how are you?”
“Good, girl.”
“Oh my god, I love your dress!”
This comes from Sally, who is sitting in the front with Pete. She is supermodel gorgeous. Long blonde hair, blue eyes, tanned skin and legs that go on for-freaking-ever. I adore her. She’s the sweetest girl who has no idea how gorgeous she really is. Her personality is addictive, and you can talk to her about anything.
“You look stunning, Sal.” I smile.
She flushes. “Oh, this old thing.”
This old thing is a dress that looks amazing on her. It’s baby blue, dips low at the front and accentuates all her curves.
Pete puts his foot on it and we launch forward with a laugh. We chat like crazy people the entire way to the club. When we’re there, Pete turns. He hands out fake IDs. I don’t know how he got those; I don’t want to know. My mom would kill me if she knew I was out clubbing. She thinks we’re going to a late dinner.
“If anyone busts you,” Pete says, “you don’t know who gave them to you.”