Crush Crush

Chapter Ten

After I shoveled my food into my mouth and threw my dress, the makeup that I only used when I went out, and my curling iron into a bag, I locked up the house and drove to Chloe's house. When I arrived, a few other girls were already there. I opened the door without bothering to knock or ring the doorbell. The benefits of being the best friend: It was considered normal for me to randomly enter the house and go up to Chloe's room . . . even if she wasn't home. Pam joked about giving me an extra key to the house. The ironic thing was that Chloe actually had a key for my house for when my parents were out of town, and the rare chances I went with them, and they asked Chloe to look after the house while we were gone.

I waved to Pam, who was sitting in the living room with a book and a glass of wine, and went upstairs to get ready with the other girls. Clothes were flying everywhere when I entered Pam's master bathroom, the popular spot to do makeup and hair because all the walls were mirrors, so there was a spot for everyone to obsess over their faces. I smiled and waved to my friends. A girl I didn't know was sitting in the corner, dressed casual-cute. That must be Stacy's sister, who just got her licensed.

I sat down beside Chloe, who struggled with her eyeliner. "I'm about to fly away with these ridiculously thick wings! Why is it so damn hard to make them even?"

"Here." Stacy dragged the tiny angled brush across Chloe's eyelids and expertly swiped a wet q-tip to thin both wings until they were almost identical.

I applied light foundation and blush, focusing more attention around my eyes. I lined my lids with black eyeliner and dusted on some smoky eyeshadow. I quickly curled my hair as another girl arrived, makeup and hair already done. We all changed into our outfits. A couple girls complimented my dress and insisted on borrowing it from me sometime.

I wanted to say, Sure, if Ryder decides not to burn it after he finds out I'm wearing it to a nightclub where other guys will surely see me in it.

But I didn't.

Chloe insisted on Pam taking pictures to remind us, when we're hags in a retirement home, that we were all hot chicks once. Her words, not mine.

After throwing back a couple shots while Pam was in the living room, we piled into Stacy's mom's SUV, her younger sister behind the wheel and a fifth of Fireball being passed around with a liter of Dr. Pepper. As we drove, we sang along to the songs on the radio—all of us terribly off-key. I noticed Stacy's sister rolling her eyes at how ridiculous the supposedly cool, senior cheerleaders were acting.

I laughed and kept the grin on my face as we drove around downtown, hollering at passerbys. We all stumbled out of the car once we parked in a parking garage in the heart of the city. Stacy gave her sister money to entertain herself at the all-night arcade and diner across the street, strictly telling her to call her the second she needs her. She even armed the sixteen-year-old with pepper spray off her keychain. I felt bad for the girl, asking if she could just come with us, but Stacy shook her head, saying she didn't want her sister near the gropers that most the clubs housed. Plus, she looked too young.

We stood in line outside the club for a few minutes, giggling while trying out hardest to look mature, before the bouncer came beside us to motion us forward, ahead of several other people. He pulled back the fancy red rope and let us through without question, but with a snide smile. The second we entered the club, Chloe whooped, "I told you we're hot bitches!"

The dark and sensual club, called Ecstasy, was packed, as was expected on a Saturday night. Chloe led me to an empty high table near the bar while the other girls went to the dance floor. She leaned on the table, attempting to like seductive. "Just stand here and look like we're having a fabulous time. A guy will buy us drinks soon."