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Back The Best Laid Plans Save as PDF
Chapters (39)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. ONE
  4. TWO
  5. THREE
  6. FOUR
  7. FIVE
  8. SIX
  9. SEVEN
  10. EIGHT
  11. NINE
  12. TEN
  13. ELEVEN
  14. TWELVE
  15. THIRTEEN
  16. FOURTEEN
  17. FIFTEEN
  18. SIXTEEN
  19. SEVENTEEN
  20. EIGHTEEN
  21. NINETEEN
  22. TWENTY
  23. TWENTY-ONE
  24. TWENTY-TWO
  25. TWENTY-THREE
  26. TWENTY-FOUR
  27. TWENTY-FIVE
  28. TWENTY-SIX
  29. TWENTY-SEVEN
  30. TWENTY-EIGHT
  31. TWENTY-NINE
  32. THIRTY
  33. THIRTY-ONE
  34. THIRTY-TWO
  35. THIRTY-THREE
  36. THIRTY-FOUR
  37. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  38. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  39. What’s next onyour reading list?

“But you don’t see me bringing Cody along with us to dinner. I’m not gonna invite Cody in the room to watch us make out.” He smirks. “Unless you’re into that.” He scrolls through his phone again.

“I’m not . . . I didn’t,” I stammer. The Star Wars theme still blasts triumphantly behind us. “You invited us all over after Giovanni’s. I thought we were having fun.”

“We were,” he says. “I’m just saying, it doesn’t have to be so complicated. Life isn’t that dramatic. It’s just life.” He smiles, shaking his shoulders and arms like he’s letting the tension out of them. “Just let John Williams soothe you. Close your eyes and listen to the master.” He turns on the theme from Schindler’s List, which feels out of place in our hot, sunshiny little store.

Maybe he’s right and friends just complicate things. Andrew certainly has. Maybe it’s better to keep friends and relationships separate, like food on a tray that can’t spill over. One section for peas, another for mashed potatoes. Maybe that would keep my life from getting so messy.

TWENTY-FIVE

I NEVER THOUGHT I’d be thankful for finals, but suddenly it’s the last two weeks of school and everyone is so busy that all of the drama gets pushed to the side. I finally force myself to finish my history project, and then spend every night for the rest of the week making flash cards and studying for Greek mythology and French.

By the time the last day of school arrives, I’ve forgotten to worry about it. But when I walk out of my last test of the day, I’m hit with a wave of sadness. It’s funny how you can hate high school so much when it’s happening, but start to miss it before you’ve even left. All of a sudden, I’m hyper-aware that everything I’m doing is for the last time. The last time I’ll have to lean my shoulder into my locker door to get it unjammed, the last stale slice of cafeteria pizza, the last hours I’ll spend staring out the window, counting down the minutes until it’s all over. Somehow, even though every class seemed to last forever, the end has come way too fast.

It’s been a Prescott tradition for as long as anyone can remember for all the seniors to meet at the lookout point by the lake to take pictures and then pile into limos to go to the prom. Usually prom is a little farther away, but the Walcott is only about twelve minutes down the road on the other side of the water. Still, we’ve still rented limos because we don’t want to miss out on anything.