Zoe's life is turned upside down when a devastating house fire leaves her and her family homeless. Forced to move into a tiny one-bedroom apartment that is barely big enough for one person, let alone four, Zoe is certain that things couldn't possibl...
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The next day, Bella tried to convince me to go to a party.
"You must be mad," I said, staring at her like she was crazy. "A party is the last thing on my mind right now."
I was still upset over the visit to the house yesterday, and Kane's radio silence wasn't exactly helping matters.
"Exactly. You need a distraction, or you'll just continue to brood, and be all grumpy," she told me.
"I'm not brooding, or grumpy," I said, scowling at her.
She looked at me for a moment, and then burst out into loud laughter. My frown only lasted for a minute, before I was joining her in reluctant giggles. Bella's laughter had always been contagious; it used to get us into quite a bit of trouble when we were younger. A big jock, a few lockers down from us, glared over at the noise.
"Please, Zoe," she said. Laughter subsiding, her face turned pleading. "You won't regret it, I promise."
"I don't have anything to wear," I told her. And for once, it wasn't an exaggeration. I wouldn't be seen dead at a party in any of the clothes I currently owned.
"You can borrow one of my dresses," she said, shrugging like that wasn't a ridiculous suggestion.
"Are you kidding me? Your dresses are like shirts on me," I said, incredulously, seeing as I was half a foot taller than her.
"And that's a problem?" she said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
I crossed my arms. "I'm not going."
She grabbed a folder out of her locker, slamming the door shut with an elbow. The jock once again turned to eye her. Seriously, where had he been for the past three years? Her loudness wasn't anything new, in fact it was something that I'd always found incredibly endearing about her. Her clueless ability to draw attention to herself.
"I'll pick you up at eight tonight, and I'll bring clothes with me," she said, unfazed by my protest.
To my dismay, Mom agreed that I should go to the party when I told her about it after school that evening.
"It's Friday night, what else are you going to do?" Mom asked, reasonably enough. She sat on the couch beside me, sorting through the clothes we'd gotten yesterday. Her Friday night plan was to go to the laundromat, and get all our laundry done. Not exactly the most exciting of evenings. So I thought it was a bit rich for her to be questioning me on my social activities.
"I'm just not in the mood for a party," I told her, putting my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.
"Bella will have you enjoying yourself in no time. It's impossible not to be in a good mood around that girl," Mom said, her face sympathetic but unyielding. "You should go out and have fun. This past week's been a lot harder on you than the twins. I don't want you looking back at your senior year of high school, and only having bad memories."
