Elise Richardson has been head over heels for Kade Dawson since she first laid eyes on him. Twelve years later and Elise is still too timid to act on her adoration towards a guy who barely notices her.
Parker Reynolds will do anything for her best f...
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"I don't know what to wear!"
I lean against the headboard of my bed and watch my best friend dart around my room frantically. The Pineapples have a performance at this giant mansion. I personally don't know the dude, but according to my brother, he's some super rich kid and his parents are out of town. I'm told that even college students will be in attendance, so my brother is lowkey nervous. I know Peyton won't admit his anxiousness and will outwardly appear confident, but my twin instincts are tingling.
"You brought ten million outfits to my house and you still don't know what to wear?" I ask incredulously.
She stops in front of my bed and throws her hands up in the air. "There's too many to choose from!"
"Maybe you shouldn't have brought so many." I roll my eyes and get back to playing Candy Crush on my phone.
I gasp when Avery pounces on top of me and rips my phone from my hands. She throws it on the opposite side of the bed and glares at me.
"I need help," she begs. "This is a major crisis!"
"I thought you were 'Miss Fashionista'," I say, then put my hands up in surrender when her glare turns murderous. "Your words, not mine."
She flops down on the bed next to me and slaps her hand over her face. "This is a super important gig, P. Logan was all jittery earlier today raving about how some music majors from the local college will be there to observe. Everyone is rich and here I am, some measly middle class bitch."
I don't say anything. Both of my parents are lawyers, so it goes without saying that I have money. However, I'm not a spoiled pampered little princess; that's Peyton's job. I'm the afterthought, so I really don't place myself in the "upper class" category. I'd rather have parents who love me than drown in a heaping pile of money.
"Avery, you need to take the words you say to hype me up and repeat them to yourself." I point to my bathroom. "Go look in the mirror and tell yourself that you're a bad bitch."
"A talented bad bitch," she corrects with a smile.
I nod. "Go."
I retrieve my phone from the end of the bed and resume my game as Avery talks to her reflection. She skips out with a big grin, picks out an outfit, and slams the bathroom door behind her. I jump at the loud noise then go back to playing on my phone. I resist the urge to scream when I fail the level. Again.
"How do I look?"
I pull my attention from my phone to my best friend. She's wearing a satin forest green colored cocktail dress that ends a few inches above the top of her knees. The top is held up by thin straps and the top dips into a V, highlighting her cleavage. The color compliments her dark skin amazingly.
"Wow." I wolf whistle and she spins in a circle to show me the whole look. "Logan won't know what hit him."
"My ass looks phenomenal in this." She smirks. Avery already did her makeup–and with a lot of resisting, my own–so she only needs to slip on her black heels before she's ready to leave.
