Page 63

This whole summer has felt like one long, twisty ride down the world’s craziest water slide. It’s knocked me down and flipped me around more times than I can count. I haven’t even reached the bottom yet, and I already know I’m too shaken up to be the same person I was at the top.

The version of me who walked into this house would not have swum naked in the pool, but I did it. I got a piercing. I got way too high smoking a joint. I jumped into a van with my friends and went on a road trip that resulted in what I’d consider the first real kiss of my life—and most definitely the best one.

Maybe those things don’t mean much on their own, but somewhere along the way, they started stacking up like bricks for me to stand on and tower over all the jeering doubts in my mind that tell me I’ll never be brave or cool or normal.

Tonight, I’m doing something even better than normal.

I’m doing something spectacular.

I’m going out with Andrea King, and I’m not letting any of my doubts stop me.

“Naomi! Our chariot awaits!”

I jump to attention like Andrea has burst into the room instead of just knocking on my door.

“Chariot?” I say as my heart leaps into my throat.

I do a few manic laps around the room to search for my purse before I realize it’s already slung over my shoulder. I smooth my dress down for probably the tenth time tonight before I step over to open the door.

“I ordered us a ride since I figured the OC Transpo would kind of cramp our style tonight,” Andrea is saying on the other side. “Not that this dude’s Toyota Corolla is going to be much of a chariot, but—”

She cuts herself off with a gasp when I fling the door open.

Then she swears.

Loudly.

Several times.

The bottom of my stomach drops as I glance down at my dress, certain I must have missed some sort of hideous stain on the front.

Or maybe it’s my makeup. I thought I cleaned up all the rogue mascara from my first failed attempt, but maybe I have horrifying raccoon eyes I somehow didn’t notice in the mirror.

“What is it?” I demand. “Should I change? I—”

“Naomi.”

She clamps her hands down on my shoulders and squeezes hard until I stop babbling and look at her.

Instead of disgust, her eyes are filled with a blazing heat that makes my knees shake.

“You. Look. Incredible,” she hisses, punctuating each word with a shoulder squeeze. “This dress is…wow. Wow. You’re just…stunning. I am literally stunned.”

My neck and cheeks start to do their usual embarrassing blushing routine, and the only answer I can come up with is, “Oh.”

She grins and shakes her head. “God, you’re cute.”

She huffs a laugh that almost sounds nervous and drops her gaze from mine.

“You look stunning too,” I tell her.

She’s wearing a black, silky romper with a keyhole cutout in the front that reveals a hint of cleavage I can’t look at without my mouth going dry. There are more cutouts showing off a couple glimpses of the smooth skin of her sides.

She’s got some low, strappy black heels on, and her eye makeup is darker than I’ve ever seen it before. Combined with some burgundy lipstick and a twisty up-do that somehow comes off sophisticated and effortless at the same time, she looks downright dangerous tonight.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” I blurt before cringing at how very not smooth that was.

She smiles again and then does a little twirl.