Mom and Dad chatted the whole way home about how lovely Dove’s family was, and how nice it was to finally see me with one of my friends, as if I weren’t even there. Nick had done his usual disappearing act, so he wasn’t around to hear them finally sounding positive about my life here. When I told them I might be doing a project with Dove, they gave each other one of those looks, like I’d just lifted a weight off their shoulders. So that was that then—no going back.

And that night, as I lay in bed, the notification came through.

The notification that the challenge was on. And I was most definitely in it.

And it was going to be way tougher than I thought. #FestiveFifteen—a race to get 15,000 new followers first. All kicking off on the sixteenth of December. Dove would post totals as we went, and whichever out of the five competing accounts racked up 15,000 new followers the fastest would win the challenge and become a permanent member of @thingsthepeakgirlsdo.

Rules were all the posts had to be about the holidays, but we could do as many as we liked. And the losers, well, they’d have to close their accounts by Christmas.

What. Had. I. Done?

Fifteen thousand new followers?! I’d been freaking out about getting another seven, let alone more than double that.

I considered backing out. But instead, I replied to the post on Dove’s actual grid, saying how “ready to go” I was.

I was such an idiot.

I was going to need quantity. And quality. And a minor miracle, unless I wanted to lose my account. I had the smallest following out of the five of us competing, so I’d have to think big. The biggest.

By two a.m. my bed was covered in bits of paper full of terrible ideas, and my eyes ached from searching YouTube for inspo. Guess my assignment was getting done in the morning.

But it was worth it. I’d had an idea.

Sure, Dove had been inspired by me, but that could work both ways. I’d had an idea so big, I didn’t know if even I could pull it off.

So I did what I always did.

Put it online and told the world. There was no way back now.

Chapter Four

Holly

Feet in leaves.

Cat’s feet in leaves.

Idyllic snowy Christmas village.

Color-coordinated lip gloss collection.

WAIT. Sorry, what?

I scrolled back up.

And zoomed in. And out. And in again.

That wasn’t just a snowy Christmas village. It was my snowy Christmas village. Yup. The most glamorous influencer I knew had posted a picture of Little Marsh. As in, the actual place that I lived.

“One. Elle. Of. A. Time.” I could hardly get my words out. “Knows where we live?!”

“And this is exciting…why?” Fred replied, confused, as he opened his front door.