Page 14 of Crew Girl

“Play,” Juliet instructed.

“Hey, guuurl…” purred the instantly recognizable voice of Kesha. “Just calling to say hi.”

“Is that…” gasped Teagan.

Juliet gave her a pat on the cheek. “No. Well. It is, but—” She huffed out a sigh. “When my parents have bad news, they send it by celebrity video messenger. They think it softens the blow.”

“I heard from your mom that it’s your birthday—” said the message.

Teagan shot her a look. Why hadn’t she said? Juliet rolled her eyes, pointed at the phone.

“Just wanted to reach out and wish you a happy birthday. Now, listen. She’s not going to be able to visit like she said, but she promises—”

Juliet ended the video.

“Harsh,” Teagan said, then, “Happy birthday?” She took the teeny dress Juliet was holding out to her. It was the least she could do.

Juliet gave her a breezy, doesn’t-matter smile. “They love that I’m at boarding school thirty-five hundred miles away. I’m easier to forget that way. But enough melodrama. Hair. You have lots of it. It must be dealt with.”

Juliet dispatched her to find a curling iron. It wasn’t anywhere obvious, so she went to her mom’s bedroom where she’d stashed a load of boxes in her closet. She took a couple out, then froze. What was her dad’s sports duffel doing here?

She sat down and warily pulled it close, taking a deep breath before opening it. There were a couple of his shirts. Weird. Maybe her mom was secretly smelling them at night like people did in the movies after someone had died. In a way, he kind of had. He wasn’t the man she thought he was a year ago. The rest of the stuff was a mishmash. Mementos from holidays, a couple of baseball caps, one of her trophies that he used to keep in his office. An engraved watch. Unfortunately, it couldn’t turn back time and make things better again.

She zipped up the duffel, put it back in the closet, and broke the bad news to Juliet. No curling iron. They’d need a plan B. One that would get her to the party and into her new life so she could forget about the old one as soon as possible. She stomped out just as Juliet came out of the bathroom, beaming. “Look what I found!”

The curling iron. Right where it was supposed to be.

Juliet drove them to the port in her bright orange sports car. As they climbed out, Cam emerged from the crowd and jogged over. “Hey! Glad you made it.”

“Go on.” Juliet nudged her forward. “I’ll catch you later.”

“Aren’t you coming?”

“Nope. Not my scene. I’ll be back. Text if you don’t want me to. Laters.”

“Here’s your wristband.” Cam handed it to Teagan, then turned to go.

What the—

He had invited her, right?

Yes, idiot. But not as his date.

Awesome. Could this day suck any more than it already did?

“Cool. Cool, cool.” So cool. “Love going to a party by myself when I don’t know anyone.”

Cam looked over at the massive waterside marquee where a DJ was playing to a large crowd, then back at her. She must’ve looked like the last dog at the pound because he tipped his head for her to follow him. “C’mon. Let’s get you a drink.”

He did one better than that. He agreed to play beer pong with her. Beer pong with Teagan rules. Get one in, the other person drinks or answers a question.

“Are you sure?” Cam asked when she’d explained how it worked. “I’m a beer pong shark.” He threw the first ball. “I heard you row. Any good?”

“Southwest Junior Champion. I have my eye set on Stanford.”

He brightened. “Stanford? One of their scouts gave me his card at the regatta last year.”

Way too easily she pictured them both in Stanford’s colors: cardinal and white, hand-in-hand, triumphantly lifting their respective trophies in the air.