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Chapter One
“Strippers?”
“Pretty sure that’s illegal. And creepy.”
“Coke and ecstasy?”
“Definitely illegal.”
“New car?”
“Ooh, love it,” I gushed.
Horns blared. We jumped back as a bike messenger jumped the curb, flashing his middle finger and raining fuck-yous on the traffic he zipped through—cutting six drivers off.
“What was that?” Kylie shouted over the honking and cursing.
“I said I’d love it, but...” I followed the sweeping iron towers to the sky. “We live in New York. Who needs a car?”
“Still kill for one,” said Dina. “It’s the ultimate symbol of freedom. Second I get a car, I’m loading you bitches in the back and we’re going to the coast. Ultimate best friends’ weekend of beaches, boys, and beer.”
“Now that’s a sweet sixteen,” Kylie said, slapping palms with Dina.
I shook my head at the both of them. “Guys, be serious. My mom said she had a surprise for my birthday, but it’s damn sure not going to be drugs, alcohol, or naked men.”
Kylie laughed. “Fair enough, but your mom does give the best gifts ever. We guess all year and never see her surprises coming, so we’ve got to go big.”
Dina hummed. “Last year, for your fifteenth, she surprised you with tickets for all of us—all of us!—to go to Paris for spring break. The year before that, we did a scavenger hunt around thecity that ended with a private concert in the park by the Blind Mice.” She tossed her head. “I swear, I love your birthday more than mine.”
“That’s just how Mom is,” I said. “She says I brightened the world and blessed humanity the day I was born, so it’s only right that my birthday be celebrated in style with all the fanfare, red carpets, riches, and gold.” I shook my head, rolling my eyes. “It’s so embarrassing.”
“Yeah, but you love it,” Kylie cried, tickling my sides.
I twisted away, squealing laughing.
Her amber curls bounced around her cheeks while she chased me. I escaped her only for Dina to come after me too—the three of us shrieking and carrying on as we chased each other down the busy sidewalk, book bags pounding our backs and bystanders shouting more abuse than the curses at the bike messenger.
“Admit it!” Kylie practically tackled me. “Admit you love all this birthday fuss, Blessing to the World.”
“Okay, okay. Yeah, I love it.” Grinning, I threw my arms around my best friends since forever. Forever and ever. We’ve been tight since they put us in the same sandbox in preschool. “This year is going to be even better because you, Kylie, won’t get sick and have to back out of any international trips. And you, Dina, have a later curfew and won’t get dragged out of any private concerts by your mom.”
Dina flushed. “Ugh, that was humiliating. My favorite band in the world heard my mom ranting about how not getting a good night’s sleep gives me the runs. Why didn’t she just kill me right there and get it over with?”
We busted up. Two years ago, we were sympathetic. Two years after, it was hilarious remembering Dina melting into a puddle of mortified goo while three of the most famous guys on the planet snickered behind their mics.
Slowing down, we joined the crowd of Haris Day School students mingling at the traffic light. A sea of brown on plaid on red on brown. For one of the best private schools in New York City, we had the worst uniforms. Hideous brown skirts, pants, and blazers to go with clashing red-plaid neckties. You could see us coming from a mile away—which is why our rivals from Victoria Day School always had the paint balloons and water guns ready before we rounded a corner.
“They better not try anything today.” Kylie’s umbrella sliced the air. “Because I’m ready for them.”
“Nice, Ky. You gonna give them another black eye to complete the beating they got from our boys Friday night?” I karate-chopped the air. “Our team destroyed them in the match.”
“Fuck yeah we did.” A blond head turned our way, sending me and my flailing limbs scurrying back behind Kylie.
Justin Lewis grinned wide—flashing those perfect teeth, full lips, and cute little dimple in his right cheek only seen by those blessed enough to see him smile. “Absolutely crushed them, but you know I never could’ve kicked that winning field goal if it wasn’t for beautiful ladies like you cheering me on in the stands.”
I blushed down to my toes.
Kylie, with her glossy curls, pouty lips, and big green Bambi eyes, standing next to Dina and her long raven hair, dusky lips, and tawny unblemished skin—they were the beautiful ladies he was talking to. Not the scrawny, knobby-kneed, blushing mess with stringy hair and a nose too big for my face.
