We’re talking about my love life.
Jamie
Gross.
But I’m Team Beck.
I bit down on the corner of my lip again.Me too, I thought, reaching for another cheese puff.Me too.
CHAPTER 21
Alot of big life moments were happening in rapid succession.
My first time being grounded.
My last day of high school.
My eighteenth birthday.
Graduation.
And, in between the last two, confessing to Beck. Again.
And, in betweenthat, finally meeting Carter’s parents for the first time.
It was strange to think back to the beginning of the month, when I’d plotted and planned every inch of Senior Night to introduce myself to Dr. Pembleton. Now, I felt nervous to meet him, but the nerves were more about impressing them for Carter’s sake, not mine.
I smoothed my hand down the front of my milky white Malstoni gown, flattening out a nonexistent wrinkle in the silk fabric. It was a gift from my parents, one I’d found laidout on the kitchen table this morning. A dress for me, a suit jacket for Jamie.M-A-L-S-T-O-N-I.
A suit jacket that Jamie promptly ditched when we got to Alderton-Du Ponte.
“You don’t think this is too much?” he asked as we ventured into the ballroom, his expression a slight twist of distaste. He had on a loose white button-down tucked into a pair of trousers. “It’s… a lot.”
Alderton-Du Ponte had its own in-house team that handled every event, from black-tie fundraisers to its deceptively casual Mimosa Mornings. Mrs. Conan had assured Mom we wouldn’t need to lift a finger—and she hadn’t been exaggerating. They’d completely transformed the ballroom. White and gold balloons traced the perimeter in airy clusters, some left to drift toward the glass-paneled ceiling, their ribbons cascading down. Round tables were arranged across the floor with thoughtful spacing, dressed in rich gold linens and centered with low arrangements of white florals that felt more curated than decorative.
And along the far wall, just beyond the entryway, oversized balloons spelled outHappy Birthday, Nellie and Jamie—simple in concept, but styled in a way that it felt polished rather than childish.
And, of course, there was a DJ in the far left corner, like Ms. Jennings’s party, but opting for Taylor Swift instead of Flo Rida.
“It’s perfectly enough,” Daisy argued, folding her arms over her chest. She wore a light-yellow knee-length dress, one that poofed out a bit. She had heels on, but she stillcame up under Jamie’s chin. “It’s elegance mixed with fun.”
“It’smybirthday, too,” he argued, trying to seem grumpier than I knew he was. “Shouldn’t it be what I want too?”
“If we had it your way, the party would be in the library. And you’d be shushing people the entire time.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
Daisy swatted at his shoulder, and the grin he’d been smothering finally popped out. “It’s perfect, Nellie,” Daisy said to me, but leaned against Jamie’s side. “Perfect for Operation Birthday.”
We shared a determined nod.
Jamie glanced between us, frowning. “That’swhat yesterday was about? Another strategy planning without me?”
Daisy wrapped her arm around Jamie’s. “Come on, book boy. Let’s go get a drink before people start showing up.”
“Dad texted that he’s en route from grabbing the cake,” Mom said as she came up to me. She was dressed in one of her favorite dresses, a light blue Gilfman from a few years back. Not quite dressy enough for fundraisers, but perfect for a birthday party. “Should be here soon.”
“What took so long?” Dad had left before four to pick up the cake. It was almost six.
