CHAPTERONE
JESSIE
“I look ridiculous.”
I’m wearing a cat-ear headband, a black leather corset top, and black leather pants so tight I think they might actually be a size too small. Oh, and there are eyeliner whiskers drawn on my cheeks.
“You look like a sexy cat,” Jade says as she adjusts the neckline of my too-tight tank top, exposing more of my cleavage.
“Cats are not sexy.”
“Tell that to Catwoman.”
“They’re aloof and mysterious.” I tug my top back up as soon as she turns around.
“Then be aloof and mysterious as soon as we get to the party. But, Jessie Matthews, youaregoing to the party.” She smacks her lips and fluffs her auburn hair.
I scowl at her, but Jade remains unfazed. She just adjusts her cleavage, pulling each breast up and out of her shirt a little more, then does a half-turn to check her butt in the mirror. It looks killer in her red leather pants, but she knows that. Jade is all curves, confidence, and sex appeal. Men literally whistle at her when we’re out in public.
She’s dressed as Wanda from the Marvel movies tonight. She tried to talk me into being a Marvel character too—Jade is very into the idea of matching costumes—but I don’t watch the movies. I barely wanted to go to the party as it is, but if anyone knows how to talk me into getting out of the dorm, it’s my best friend and roommate.
Behind Jade, I see myself in the mirror in my all-black getup, the corset giving my squarish body some shape. Jade insisted I use her curling iron, so my normally straight brown hair now cascades past my shoulders in voluminous waves. I don’t look half bad, and something about that thrills me.
I tear my eyes away from myself in the mirror. Being all dressed up like this reminds me of Freshman Year Jessie, and the thought of being that Jessie again makes me feel a little sick.
“I should be studying,” I say.
“AndGame of Thronesseason eight should have ended differently, but here we are.”
“I can’t afford to lose my scholarship, Jade.” My words come out sharper than intended.
“You can’t afford to spend one more Thursday night alone in your room or the library. Socially, you’re almost a pariah. Plus, it’s Halloween Weekend at Alpha Tau Zeta, and these parties are legendary, so we are not missing it,” Jade says as she applies her lipstick. “I know you hate parties, but this one will be fun.”
I roll my eyes. She says that every time. It’s not that I hate parties; I just hate the person I become when I’m partying. It’s not worth it to correct Jade, though. She already knows the whole story. She was there my freshman year when I started dating a guy who was a fraternity pledge. Every Thursday through Sunday I’d be at the frat house with him, drinking too much and not studying enough. It was so distracting that my grades suffered, which might not be a big deal for most students, but my scholarship depends on a certain GPA, and losing my scholarship means I lose my ability to be in school at all.
I almost lost my scholarship.
I quit partying after that.
Jade tucks her ID and phone into her already-too-full corset and strides into the living room. I follow, stuffing my things into my corset as well, though there’s plenty of room in mine.
“Ready?” she asks without looking back at me. She snaps up the dorm key and tucks that next to a boob as well, then she walks out into the hall, but I’m still inside.
The door shuts heavily behind her.
Hand on the doorknob, I pause, debating whether I should cut my losses now. We’re just six weeks away from finals, and if I don’t start studying now, especially for statistics—I’ve got a B in that class—I’m at risk of dropping to a C. My brain starts to swirl the way it always does when I’m anxious. I wipe my sweaty palms on my leather pants, but to no avail: they’re still wet. I look around for something to wipe my palms on. I can’t leave when I’m this sweaty. Maybe I should change and then just go to the library. I don’t sweat this much in the library. I don’t want to sweat this much anywhere.
Why am I sweating so much?
Jade walks back in through the door to find me standing on the other side of it fanning my armpits. “Jessie?”
“Yeah, I should just not go. I have so much studying to do for finals.”
“Finals are like two months—”
“Six weeks.”
“—away. You have plenty of time, and I promised we’d study tomorrow.” She slaps her hands onto my shoulders and takes a deep breath in, encouraging me with her eyes to do the same.
