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“I’m a senior,” I tell him. “I was in Italy last year. On a foreign exchange program. But now I’m back.”
Oh God, am I rambling? He probably doesn’t care about any of that.
“Wait a minute.” He snaps his fingers, pointing at me. “You’re the infamous Willow Lancaster.”
I blink at him, shocked he’d know me. “You’ve heard of me?”
“Everyone knows who you are—except for me. Looks like we need to change that.” He grins, the sight of it blinding me worse than the late summer sun. He snags the sock from my grip, our fingers brushing, and I feel his touch all the way down to my soul.
Now I feel as dramatic as Iris.
Rhett climbs back into the car, tossing the sock at Row’s face before he shuts the door. I take a step back, wincing at the roar of the engine. The tires squeal when he pulls out of the driveway and takes off like a shot, hitting the horn twice as a goodbye.
In a complete daze, I turn to find Iris watching me with a giant smile on her face. “Um. Wow.”
She giggles. “Tell me all about it.”
CHAPTER TWO
Willow
The morning air is downright crisp as I head for the auditorium where the first day assembly is being held. A breeze sweeps through the trees, making the leaves rattle, and I shiver inside my jacket, thinking of the other first days I’ve experienced at Lancaster Prep. They were always warmer, with the August sun blaring down, making all of us sweat.
Starting school a few weeks later than we used to is already bringing plenty of change, and I try my best to accept it.
Iris is walking beside me, keeping up a constant stream of chatter as she waves and speaks to almost everyone around us, but all I can do is nod and smile. I’m the quieter Lancaster, the more observant one. Iris is the social butterfly while I need to test someone out before I give in and share bits of myself.
Some may think of me as secretive or worse, aloof, but I can’t help it. I’m not about to blab my business to just anyone. Having the Lancaster name makes it hard for me to trust people. I always wonder what their motives are when they try to get to know me.
“Where’s Alana?” Iris asks, her question breaking through my thoughts.
“I haven’t seen her yet.” Alana Kirkpatrick is our other best friend. The three of us have hung out together all through high school and I can admit to myself that I was jealous when Iris would send photos and Snapchats and share stories of her and Alana laughing and screaming over something trivial and silly throughout the school year while I was gone. They looked like they were having fun—without me.
I missed them so much sometimes my heart would physically ache.
“How weird. She texted me last night asking me what I was wearing.” Iris laughed. “I told her, ‘um, the uniform?’ Like we have a choice. But she was talking about accessories I suppose.”
“She didn’t text me.” I’m frowning. That’s what Alana and I have in common—a love for fashion. I was always her go-to when she needed an opinion on what to wear.
I’m almost a little offended she didn’t reach out.
“Did I tell you that you look amazing this morning?” Iris is smiling at me and I can tell she’s trying to change the subject.
“No, you didn’t. And thank you.” I do a quick twirl, my uniform skirt flaring out. I have the waistband rolled up because that’s what we all do and Iris’s skirt is even shorter than mine, so I don’t feel bad.
“What was your inspiration?”
“I found this scrapbook my mom made a long time ago and the pages were filled with photos of my mom and dad. Polaroids mostly.” I remember some of the photos that shocked me. Of my dad shirtless with lipstick kisses all over his back. His chest. His face, his neck. Mom’s face turned red when I brought the scrapbook to her and asked about it and she even took it from me, stashing it in her closet.
I won’t mention those particular photos to Iris.
“Oh yeah? Your mom is such a fashion icon.”
She still is and she was as a teen too. “The uniforms were pretty much the same back then, but she’d always wear a bow in her hair and Doc Marten Mary Jane shoes.” I kick out my feet. “You can’t find them in that style anymore, but I thought these Mary Jane’s were cute.”
They’re Chanel and they’re adorable because of course they are—Chanel is my mother’s favorite fashion label.
“Cute. Love the knee-high socks too.”
