Renna Rose Lancaster is the girl people stare at like she belongs in a glass case, carved with angel-soft beauty, a life airbrushed into unattainable perfection. But Renna knows perfection is nothing but a golden prison, coated in pretty lies that k...
♪♪ Look how she lights up the sky Ma Belle Evangeline So far above me, yet I Know her heart belongs to only me
Je t'adore, Je t'aime Evangeline You're my queen of the night So still So bright
That someone as beautiful as she Could love someone like me Love always finds a way it's true! And I love you, Evangeline
Ooh, love is beautiful Love is wonderful! Love is everything, do you agree? Mais oui! Look how she lights up the sky I love you, Evangeline ♪♪
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Some nights start loud.
And some nights start loud—but not in volume. In heat. In clutter. In laughter that doesn't match the heart rate. In the thrum of bass that seeps into your ribs even before you hear the music. In someone else's joy that you're trying your hardest not to resent.
The kitchen is glowing with that gross yellow LED light that makes everything feel like a greasy diner, and the noise is a hum, no—more like a roar with no direction. Bottles are clinking, someone's already dropped a packet of crisps on the floor, and Freya's voice cuts through it all every few seconds like a damn referee whistle.
I don't know how many people are actually invited tonight, but this house looks like someone opened a Tinder group chat and told everyone to show up.
Isla's sitting on the counter next to me, foot practically digging into my thigh, half a strawberry daiquiri in her grip, her eyeliner wing so sharp it might actually cut someone if she blinked too hard.
Ailsa—yeah, Freya's carbon copy of a twin except with a louder voice and a tan that screams my boyfriend's in America and I'm not subtle about it—is cross-legged on the granite counter, all deranged, breathless energy like she was about to board a rocket ship instead of a flight to Boston.
"I swear, when I got the email," Ailsa was saying, tossing her hair like it had a fan of its own, "my heart was literally, like—stopped. I thought it was spam, right? But no, it was UMass. They finally had a spot for me." She grinned wide enough to show molars. "And I was just sitting there in the library losing my mind."
"Your mind's been gone since secondary school," Freya muttered, sipping from a red plastic cup that looked suspiciously like it had inherited wine from four different bottles.
"Thanks, twin," Ailsa threw back without missing a beat. "Bet you'll miss me when you're drowning in NHS protocols while I'm out brunching in Back Bay with med bros named Blake."
