Avery Turner, a perfectionist with a double life, and Kyran Drake, a charismatic boy with secrets, find their fates intertwined when their secrets threaten to unravel their dreams-will they overcome their differences to protect their futures, or wil...
Unexpectedly, I found myself playing mind games with my mother to go to Kyran's party. It was simple, really. When Kyran gave me the massively forged consent form for a debating convention in Vegas, I didn't know how to react. He realized, as Ms. Walton had, that these things were necessary if I wanted to get out of the house without my mother watching over me like a hawk.
"I got selected from the school," I explained to her. "It's just me and two other girls—one in Senior Year who's going to Harvard next year."
I knew that my lies were enough to cover the Pacific Ocean, but it was a desperate situation. If there was one thing I could say to convince her, it was that an Ivy League-accepted student was doing this activity with me.
"How long?" she asked, her eyes scrutinizing the piece of paper I placed in front of her. She seemed to be trying to find some sort of discrepancy in the letter, but I thanked Kyran's genius. Although he was the most bothersome guy in the entire world, he was pretty much the most intelligent one I'd met. Key word, intelligent. Those are hard to find nowadays.
Thanks to Kyran's editing and manipulative knowledge, the page seemed legit enough.
I held my breath, hoping my mother wouldn't see through the elaborate ruse I had created. She sighed and put the letter down, her face etched with suspicion.
"I don't know about this," she said slowly, her fingers tapping the table in front of her dramatically. "It's so sudden. Why didn't they give me notice earlier?"
I don't give my mother enough credit, but she was intelligent.
"I know, Mom," I replied, trying to sound as earnest as possible. I needed to sell this. "Ms. Walton found out yesterday and she wanted me to do it. She said it would look good on my college applications."
She was starting to waver, and I knew what it was. The thought of anything that could develop my future college prospects always had a strong effect on her. She picked up the letter again, scanning it for what felt like the thousandth time.
I wouldn't be surprised if it was.
"And it's for the weekend? Starting from tomorrow evening?" she asked, her voice speculative.
To add to her belief, I decided to play the last card.
"Yes, Mom," I said, nodding emphatically. "You can even call the school if you want to double-check."
I prayed she wouldn't actually take me up on that offer. Fortunately, my mother seemed to buy it this time, and she nodded. I let go of the breath I was holding when my mom's handwriting scratched her signature at the bottom of the form.
