Page 39 of Get Over It, April Evans

April cracked a smile. “You’re an Aquarius rising,” she said to Sasha, tilting her head. “Am I right?”

Sasha lifted a brow, but she just grinned.

“Oh, I’m right,” April said.

Sasha turned her attention back to Daphne. “What do youwantto do?”

Daphne’s shoulders dropped a little. There was so much, though to her, it all sounded either too immature or too wild. But she wanted to be brave—that was the whole point here—and maybe that started with verbalizing desires.

“I want to change my hair,” she said.

“Slow down, rebel,” Sasha said, winking.

Daphne laughed, but she didn’t feel embarrassed. Sasha’s teasing tone was sweet and supportive somehow, so she typed her idea into her app and kept going.

“I want to go skinny-dipping,” she said. “I want to kiss someone I barely know, and I want to get high, and I really do want to get a tattoo. I want to make out at the top of a Ferris wheel like in all those gay teen movies, and I want to have—”

She cut herself off, cleared her throat.

Sasha leaned closer. “Go on.”

Daphne laughed nervously, glanced at April for a split second, meeting her dark eyes, which glinted with curiosity. She wasn’t sure why she looked April’s way—April was such a force, such a strange person in her life. A surprise, that was for sure, but Daphne felt a pull toward her she couldn’t explain.

She looked away, focused on Sasha.

“I want to have a fling.”

Sasha’s brows lifted.

“Easy, tiger,” April said.

“Hey, I’m a helper, not a lover, in this whole adventure,” Sashasaid, presenting her palms. “But I think we can definitely help you achieve those goals.”

“Yeah?” Daphne said. Her cheeks were on fire.

“Yeah,” Sasha said. “Teenage and young adult rebellion, here we come.”

“Are we going to TP our history teacher’s front yard too?” April asked.

Daphne gasped. “Oh my god, I’ve never done that.”

“I was kidding,” April said, but she was smiling. God, she really was gorgeous. Dark and brooding and a little scary, but gorgeous. Daphne stared at her for a second, while April fiddled with her full tequila glass, those lavender and teal streaks through her hair catching the dim bar lighting.

“I’m ready now,” Daphne said, sliding off her stool again.

“I don’t think we can gather that much toilet paper in time,” Sasha said. “Mia would surely notice.”

Daphne laughed. “No. I want to dye my hair. Tonight, before I can talk myself out of any of this. Are you with me?”

She looked at April again. Her stomach swooped with nerves or excitement or exhaustion, she wasn’t sure—maybe all three. Maybe everything. April watched her, then lifted her shot glass into the air.

“I’m with you,” April said.

Daphne smiled, and they clinked glasses before tossing the liquor down their throats. It burned all the way down, and Daphne loved it—a wild and queer baptism by fire.

Daphne and Aprilshared one more shot of tequila before they headed outside into the warm summer evening. Since Sasha had to work until eleven, she couldn’t join in the hair dye extravaganza,but they all exchanged numbers for future Wildling Events, as Sasha called them.

Daphne’s head was gloriously fuzzy, the world blurry, like everything was underwater. She might be drunk.