When a 14-day dating challenge erupts between skeptical Blossom and her secretly smitten best friend Hunter in the waning days of 1999, their easy friendship is plunged into a maelstrom of teenage angst, unrequited affection, and the terrifying poss...
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~ ~ ~ 1999
Blossom exited Hunter's truck and waved goodbye, watching him pull out her driveway and down the street, content she pushed open the front door, the familiar scent of her house washed over her, it never smelled the same yet it did just the same, today a comforting blend of old books and her mom's lemon cleaner. But the quiet was soon interrupted by the frantic buzzing of her flip phone. Her hand dove into her pocket, pulling out the device and flipping it open. Dozens of unread messages filled the screen, a reminder of a forgotten promise. She'd blithely messaged her friends earlier, a vague invitation for a sleepover or a hangout – a last-minute plea for normalcy after her whirlwind of dates. Now, the text thread was a minefield of teenage drama.
Elena, predictably, had said yes, adding a sarcastic, "Like I have a choice," no doubt still irked that Blossom wasn't home to help in her ongoing battle with the teenage angst. Then there was Janet, always eager for a social gathering, practically vibrating over the prospect of hauling her makeup arsenal over. Lily's response was curt and laced with resentment, making it clear she was still harboring the grudge Blossom had inadvertently created. She had only agreed to come if Chance would be there, a clear act of defiance. Then there was Chance. He couldn't stay the night, his traditional grandmother putting a kibosh on any co-ed sleepovers, but he was willing to "hang out" for a bit.
Blossom winced. This was shaping up to be a disaster. She quickly typed a message, apologizing for her radio silence, and confirmed that hanging out was fine. Two hours. That was how long she had to brace herself for the inevitable clash of personalities. The tension in the group had been palpable over text, and she knew it was her fault – the result of her impulsive defense of Ethan and judgment of Chance. A wave of guilt washed over her, followed by a desperate need to fix things.
Blossom briefly checked her recent conversation with Eli, still no response on his end to her apology. She added another quick message. Asking if he was there and if they could talk some more? Nothing. With her attempts to make up with the stubborn boy across the street not going anywhere she turned her attention to her sister.
She sought out Elena, finding her sprawled on her bed, a textbook half-open on her lap. "Hey," Blossom began hesitantly, "I know I messed up, and I know you're still mad, but maybe we should try to hear Chance out. That maybe he didn't do anything."
Elena huffed, rolling her eyes. "Oh, so now you're team Chance? After you joined me in the witch hunt?"
"No!" Blossom quickly retaliated. "I just think we were wrong to assume. We didn't see what happened. And Ethan has a history of being dramatic."
Elena sighed, picking at a loose thread on her blanket. "Fine. I can try. But," she added, her voice regaining an edge, "I'm not promising anything about Lily. She tried to put this...this thing in my bed while you were out."
Blossom was confused and asked what she was talking about. Elena explained while she was out with Hunter, Lily "snuck in" and went to place...some kind of evil-looking food concoction that was most certainly staining and sticky. Luckily Elena caught her in the act and chased her out.
