She’d entertained thoughts of some massive prank where they’d cut off her hair or throw her in the pool fully dressed. But Taylor and Heather had wrapped her hair in hot rollers for a while, then brushed makeup across her cheeks until she didn’t recognize herself in the mirror. When the hot rollers were pulled free, her hair fell in thick curls down her back, dark tendrils that looked like they belonged to someone else.

And then the party started, and they seemed to forget she existed.

The night was pitch-black now, the torches blazing against the sky. It was too cold to brave the pool, but a dozen students were crowded into the hot tub—including Kara, who had to be on her fourth wine cooler by now. Layne had tried to talk her out of the second one, but Kara had screeched to stop being such a goody-goody.

Everyone had laughed.

That’s when Layne had found a place in the dark.

She’d tried mingling, but she didn’t know anyone here, and every time she approached a group, they stared at her in this confused way, like she was a random stranger who’d just wandered in off the street. At first she tried to join their conversations, hoping the awkwardness would dissipate. But she didn’t know much about sports, she didn’t go to parties every weekend, and she wasn’t on any of the committees these girls seemed to care about. Fall formal? Yearbook? Yeah, right.

Hey, guys, want to talk about the social dynamics in the Brontë sisters’ novels?

She might as well throw herself into the pool.

Taylor was staggering around somewhere. Layne had already seen her puke into the bushes at the edge of the property once.

Not like Layne really wanted her company. Despite the curls, despite the rah-rah-sisterhood shtick, she still didn’t trust Taylor.

Especially since Gabriel hadn’t even shown up.

Maybe this was the joke. Maybe the older girls had strung her along with empty words. But . . . if this was a joke, there didn’t seem to be any punch line. It wasn’t like Taylor was mocking her for sitting alone.

And Layne would be lying if she said her head didn’t turn every time a new person stepped out onto the pool deck. She thought she’d seen Gabriel at one point, but his face wore an easy smile, and he was laughing with the athletic blonde attached to his arm.

Nick. No way Gabriel had gone from sullen and brooding to easy laughter in one afternoon. No way he’d show up with some other girl, when Taylor had said he was coming for her.

Unless that was the joke?

Layne’s thoughts were giving way to traitorous doubts when some other guy by the grill called out, “Nick! Hey, man.” And then they did that whole guy high-five-handshake-shoulder-hug thing.

Relief.