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“Where is this party again?”Mom glanced back from the sink.
“At a friend’s house.”
“Yes, Becca, I understood that part. But where exactly?”
The text from Scarlett had come through an hour ago. Google Maps informed me it was an address on the edge of town, but I’d lied and given Mom—and Dad when Mom called him up to insist he check it out—a fake address I pulled off Google. Letting me go to a party at a friend’s was one thing, but I doubted she was ready to let me go to a club.
“I’m not sure, sweetie. I know your father said it’s safe enough, but we haven’t been here long. What if you get lost? Or something happens? Or—”
“Mom,” I said, trying to sound understanding when really all I could think was,please don’t ruin the first—and maybe the only—chance I get at having some kind of social life. After last period, I needed this, or there was a good chance I would hole up in my room and never come out.
Ever.
“I have to join the real world again. It’s senior year. Partying is like a rite of passage or something, and I really want to fit in. People haven’t exactly been welcoming.” My voice trailed off, not wanting to give Mom anything more to worry about.
Dropping the bowl back in the soapy water, Mom dried her hands and turned to face me. “I know, baby, and we want nothing more than to get our old Becca back. Our fun-loving, smiley, happy girl.” Her eyes fluttered closed just for a second, and she inhaled deeply. When they opened again, I saw the lingering sadness behind her smile. “You’re right. Go have fun. Just be home by midnight and make sure you leave your friend’s address, okay? And be careful.” She didn’t say the words, but I got her unspoken message: no guys.
I leapt up and went to her, unable to hide my smile. “Thank you. I know it’s hard for you, but this is a good thing, and you don’t need to worry. Promise.” My arms slid around her small frame, and I hugged her.
“Wear something nice. Something other than those jeans and t-shirts you’ve been hiding under. Us Torrence girls are blessed with good figures for a reason, sweetie.”
“Sure thing, Mom.”
I left her drying the dishes while I went upstairs to get ready. Scarlett’s message had been brief: dress down, meet there. Part of me worried it was all some elaborate prank—another joke at my expense—but she seemed genuine. And I really wanted to make some friends. If I couldn’t make Credence High work, everything my parents had sacrificed would be for nothing. I refused to let that happen. No matter how hard it was going to be.
Staring at the contents of my closet, a pang of regret throbbed through me. I’d thrown out almost everything that reminded me of my life in Montecito: floaty summer dresses, cropped pants, and pashmina sweaters. It didn’t leave much in the way of options for tonight, and I fingered through the t-shirts until I found something that might work.
Once I had changed, I added some gloss to my lips and mascara to my lashes. I was brushing my hair when Mom walked into my room. “Oh, wow.” She eyed my outfit with surprise. “When I said nice, Becca, that’s not quite what I had in mind.”
Placing the brush down on the dresser, I turned to her and looked down at myself. “Does it look that bad?”
Remembering Scarlett’s dark jeans and low-cut top, I’d picked out a pair of black jeans and a black sparkly tank top that I’d worn once back in Montecito as part of a Halloween costume.
“No, no.” Mom assured me. “It’s not bad…” She hesitated. “Just different. You look so different, baby.”
“You’re kind of freaking me out, Mom. Different good or fashion-disaster different?”
“Good, I think.” Her mouth pulled down at the corners as she tilted her head to the side, still looking at me. “Yes, good. Definitely good. I was just surprised.” Her lips curved into a smile, and I relaxed a little.
“You’re sure?” I spun and faced myself in the mirror. Mom was right—I did look different. Honey-blonde hair cascaded over my bare shoulders and down my chest, contrasting with the shimmering tank top. The jeans, teamed with wedged sneakers, slimmed down my legs and made me look taller than I was.
“You look beautiful, Becca.” Her eyes zeroed in on my wrist. “You’re not wearing your bracelet?”
“Uh, no, I don’t want to lose it,” I lied, forcing a smile. She wouldn’t understand. “Okay, I think I’m ready.”
A girl I barely recognized stared back at me, but maybe this was a good thing.
A new look for a new Becca.
Maybe this girl would stand a better chance of fitting in.
CHAPTER4
By the timeI reached the club, it was dark. Mom had wanted Dad to drive me, but that would have blown my cover, so I braved the bus system in town. Finally, after two wrong changes and almost forty minutes, I found the place, if you could call it that.
Inside.Scarlett’s last text had said. No one looked twice at me as I joined the line and waited, nervous energy humming through my body as my eyes darted around the place. A one-story building and walls thick with graffiti,in what appeared to be an abandoned parking lot—it was definitely not the kind of place I was used to.
“Over twenty-one?” a gruff voice asked, and my head whipped around to meet a hulk of a man’s icy stare.
