One Night That Changes Everything

Chapter Three

7:37 p.m.

"What the hell is in the damn thing?" Samantha asks. The three of us have piled into Samantha's car and are on the Mass Pike traveling at about eighty miles an hour. Usually I'm not a fan of Sam (or anyone, really) driving that fast, but at this point, speed is the least of my worries. My first being, you know, that Justin has my notebook, and the second being that I am on my way to Cure, and that I am wearing a ridiculous outfit. 

"It's just... I need it okay?" I'm rummaging through my purse for my Passion Pink lip gloss. I slide the visor mirror down and smear the gloss on. Just because my life is potentially over doesn't mean I don't want to look good. Plus I'm going to see Justin, and even if he is a total bastard, I might as well look my best when I see him. Not that I care about Justin, of course. But there will be other guys there too. Guys that might potentially be my future husband. 

Plus, lipstick goes with this outfit which consists of:

* tight skinny jeans

*gray shoes with platform heels and studs on the sides 

*a backless sliver shirt that plunges down so far in front I'm afraid my boobs are going to fall out

All of these, items were left in my sister Amy's closet when she left for college. Samantha insisted I wear them, since apparently  nothing I owned was Cure-appropriate.

"Why are you putting lipstick on?" Emily pipes up from the backseat. One of the good things about Emily and Samantha having their little rivalry is that I always get to ride shotgun.

"Because we're going to a club," I say. I glance in the backseat. "You're wearing lipstick," I point out. 

Of course, this isn't the same thing. Emily always wears lipstick. She's mostly always dressed up. I think it's part of her Southern upbringing. Like right now, for example. She's wearing a sleeveless long white eyelet shirt over black leggings, and delicate sliver open-toed sandals. Her long blond hair is curled perfectly, and her makeup is flawless. This is how she showed up at my house this morning. At 9:00 am. When most normal people are dead to the world.

"Yeah," Emily says. "But I already had lipstick on. You're putting yours on now, like you're getting ready for the club."

"We are going to a club," I repeat. "There's nothing wrong with putting on makeup before we get to a club." 

"It's because of Justin, isn't it?" Emily asks. She flops back into the seat, her long blond curls bouncing. I'm not sure if it's my imagination, but she seems... happy about it. That I might be dressing up for Justin. Which would kind of make sense. Emily is an eternal romantic, and she gets very caught up in the idea of people getting back together. Plus she always loved Justin. 

I glare at her.

"Whatever," Samantha says. She signals and changes lanes. "Are you going to tell us what's in this notebook or what? That was part of the deal, remember?" 

It took me a while to convince Samantha that we needed to go to Cure. One, she's  not really supposed to be driving her car into the city. Two, she didn't understand why I was in such a rush to go off and meet Justin. Which makes sense, given everything that he's done to me. The only way I could get her to take me was to promise to tell her what was in the notebook. 

"Look," I say, taking a deep breath. "We are going to Cure, I am going to get the notebook back, and maybe then I will tell you what's in it."

"So I'm just supposed to take you down there, without any idea what's going on?"

"Um, its called having faith in your friends, Samantha," Emily says from the backseat. She's opened a bottle of nail polish and is painting her toenails a dark crimson color.