[Completed] Ranked #1!
Ariana Grayson is young, beautiful, popular...and dead. Her best friend, Everly Clarke, is devastated and broken. She has never had to live without Ariana, relying on her as a crutch to hide her crippling anxiety. After meetin...
As Ariana controlled my every move, every word, and every action I made, I was still somewhere inside, desperate to regain control over myself. I just didn't know how to get Ariana out.
This is wrong, Ariana! So wrong. This is...kidnapping! You're holding me hostage!
She just laughed lightly. "Really, Everly? Kidnapping? You're right here, dummy! And you're not a hostage in your own body!"
She was rummaging through my shoes.
"Tell me the truth," she said sternly. "Did you also share shoes with your grandma? Because some of these, wow! Like, do you have some type of foot illness or something? Some of your shoes look like they're orthopedic."
First of all, there's no such thing as a foot 'illness'. And second-
"Finally!" She sighed in relief as she pulled a pair of espadrilles from the bottom of my shoe pile. "Wait, I remember these! You got them like a hundred summers ago. I totally remember me having to practically beg you to get a decent pair of shoes for Brett's party! And I got that hot red plaid bikini, remember? The bottoms had that tiny little ruffle skirt and Brett said I looked like a naughty school girl in it!"
I would've hit my own face if I could have. I tried to will control of my body back, but it didn't work.
"Brett was so cute, but such a tool when he was drunk, which was like, what? Every day all summer long? He ended up totally puking right after we hooked up. It was so gross!"
At that moment, I almost hoped that if Ariana was determined to kill me, that she'd hurry up and put me out of my misery.
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"I had to ask Mason McGregory to drive me home!" She widened my eyes. "And he was driving his mom's purple minivan with the cheetah print seat covers, and it had stickers stuck to all of the back windows because of Mason's younger sisters. It was like a cheesy daycare on wheels. No joke! He offered me a juice box."
Please kill me.
"And you had worn these shoes!" She smiled smugly as she admired my reflection in the mirror.
"I wonder how fast we could get you a fake I.D." She tapped a finger on my chin.
Open my window and jump out. Please.
"Actually," she stood up straight. "I won't need a fake I.D. You're lookin' pretty hot, Ev! You should've let me give you a makeover years ago! I mean, you're not me, but you look pretty damn cute right now!"
Why wait until Sunday? Jump now.
"You'll see." She smiled. "Hot girls don't get carded. There are some great bars not too far from town. Guys might actually hit on you tonight! Hot guys! You'll thank me later."
