D e a n

t h i r t e e n

After taking the train into the city, Effy and Astrid made their way down a silent park near the highway. Heading toward a complex of high-end apartments and shops. Astrid added more eyeliner as they walked down the curved path, smudging it out with her ring finger. (She had changed into a black dress with an oversized maroon cardigan and pulled her hair up into a messy bun.)

Effy frowned when she barely realized they were in the city.

"Where are we going?"

"I told you, I've got some business to take care of. Just a quick pit stop, I promise." Astrid repeated. She lopped her arm through Effy's and led her along the path to the exit of the park. Crossing the empty street and entering an apartment complex.

The entire place—with its industrial modern style—reminded Effy of fancy hotels she'd see on tv or in magazines. They took the elevator to the seventh floor and found their way to apartment 56D. The roof was high rise with two ceiling windows that showed the night sky. Odd paintings covered each wall.

"Whoa, is this some sort of art museum?" Effy asked when she noticed an open bar and waiters walking around, small food samples and glasses of champagne on trays they held. One waiter walked by with a tray of red wine and cheese cubes. Another walked by with shrimp cocktails.

Effy could feel her mouth salivating.

"Kinda—yes and no." Astrid shrugged as she opened her purse and searched for something. "I sell to this guy, a real 'tortured' artist, who considers himself an undiscovered and hidden gem to the art community. He puts on these secret art shows in his loft to raise awareness or some crap like that." She pulled her phone out justed as it buzzed with a new message.

Effy glanced at the tall waist-high plant next to her. It was so green, she found herself envious. She could never keep a plant that green for the life of her. She didn't necessarily have what most called a ''green thumb''. She reached out and touched a leaf to feel it's smoothness only to discover it was fake.

Lier! Effy intoxicatedly thought with a sudden scowl.

"Okay," Astrid suddenly began as she glanced over her shoulder across the room. Looking for someone. "stand here and stay here. Got it? Don't go anywhere and don't talk to anyone. If anybody asks, you're twenty-eight and your names Clementine Jones."

"But I thought I wasn't supposed to talk to anyone?"

"Good girl," Astrid patted Effy on the head and left.

Effy nervously rubbed her hands together as she glanced around. She felt so out of place. Unsure what to do with herself as she stood there.

"Drink, ma'am?"

A voice called out beside her—bringing her back to reality. She quickly turned and found a waiter generously holding a tray of champagne for her to grab one. Effy raised her hand ready to shake her head and kindly thank him, but suddenly she froze. Wait a second, she thought to herself as she recognized his face. Mitchell Grayson, from yearbook club!