Chapters (93)
- Cover
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- Eighty-Four
- Eighty-Five
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Books by Kelly Yang
- Back Ad
- About the Publisher
I shake my head. “It’s not even mine,” I tell her. It’s one of my mom’s dresses—Tressy must have gotten it mixed up when she was packing. “It’s way too sexy!”
Jess whips out her phone. “Girl, you got a hundred and eighty followers,” she says, swiping to my Instagram account.
“So?” I ask.
“So my dog has more followers than you,” Jess says. She hands me the sequined dress and orders me to change. “C’mon. You gotta show a little honey if you wanna attract the bees.”
I take the dress, wondering what kind of bees we are attracting here. Still, I climb out of my bed. I’ve been studying all weekend and could use a break. I bump into Dani on my way to the bathroom. She looks down at my dress, raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. Her eyes glance over to my room, landing on my mountain of dirty laundry. She points to it. “When are you planning on doing that?” she asks.
I shrug. “Tomorrow?”
“You need to separate it into small batches or you’ll break our machine,” she says.
I roll my eyes and look over at my friends. See what I mean? This is literally all she ever says to me.
Jess crosses her arms at Dani and says, “If she breaks it, I’m sure you’ll make her pay for it, like you did the mattress.”
Dani’s eyes widen in shock. She turns and stomps back to her room.
“Bitch,” Jess says under her breath. I stand in the hallway, torn between calling after Dani and yelling at Jess. Why’d she have to say that?
Dani slams her door.
We snap selfies in the back of Jess’s Porsche while she drives, the music blasting, the wind in our hair. Jess drives like a crazy person, swerving all over the place. It’s terrifying—I have no idea where she got her license—and if I weren’t so worried about my boobs falling out of my dress, I’d be clinging with both hands to my seat. I’m so Ubering back.
Guys honk at us, begging us to slow, asking us where we’re going. The girls drink the attention up while I sit with one hand over my eyes, the other arm over my breasts.
We arrive in one piece, thank God, forty-five minutes later. Club Landmark in downtown Los Angeles is packed with people. There’s a line to get in, which Jess skips. The bouncer, Steve, lets us in, doesn’t ask for ID. Jess whispers in my ear as we walk inside, “He’s cool. I’ve been here a thousand times.” As we settle into a VIP booth in the back, Jess orders three bottles of Grey Goose.