Calliope's ex-boyfriend, her high school sweetheart, crash-landed back into her life like a rom-com sequel she never ordered, ready to rewrite the script of her existence once again.
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"You...
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After three glasses of champagne and enough cringe-worthy conversations to last a lifetime, I find myself searching for my lost squad. Last I spotted, Margot was talking to Tristan Lockwood, the resident "Psycho Killer Turned Heartthrob" extraordinaire. And as for Noelle? Well, she vanished with Ava Quinn, and I haven't seen her since.
Will they even notice if I sneak out?
From a distance, I notice a pink dress standing out among the crowd, and I keep my eyes fixed on her so that I don't lose sight of her again. Determinedly, I navigate through my old classmates as if I'm on a mission, but in the process, I accidentally collide with someone. My shoulder forcefully pushes into a blonde woman, causing her to jolt forward.
"Excuse me," I say immediately, apologizing with a small smile. "I'm so sorry."
It soon drops as soon as she turns around. I don't even have to look at her nametag to know who she is. The freckles scattered around her tan face are a dead giveaway. Same with her thin pointy nose and bone structure.
Clearing my throat, I force a grin that's part amusement and part resignation. "Veronica Miller," I say with exaggerated enthusiasm. Can't say I'm happy to see her. She's the definition of a mean girl, and they never change. Well, inside they don't.
Her bushy eyebrows curve inward as her eyes drop to my chest. "Calliope Bennett. Almost didn't recognize you with the blonde hair or that figure. You used to have the body of a twelve-year-old boy and hair in even worse condition. Oh, how times have changed, huh?"
Going straight for the kill, huh? No foreplay? Bring it.
She obnoxiously slurps her drink through the thin straw.
"I guess they have, huh? It's been years and you have not changed a bit. I can imagine how tiring it must be, especially when there's no reward for being so miserable. But I suppose it's a look that suits you well. Your family must be so proud."
Veronica rotates her jaw, flicking her platinum bang from her face. I struck a nerve.
Her nose flares in anger. "You bi—"
"Veronica. Hi. Do you remember me? The dead, chain-smoking stripper?" Margot appears out of nowhere, giving me a quick smile. "Pretty impressive for a veterinarian, huh? I'm sure you remember Calliope, my super successful gallery directing best friend."
"Are you even smart enough to be a vet?" Veronica asks. "You've always lacked common sense. Such a shame."
"Smart enough to know when a boob job is cheap, it's probably a scam. And even smarter to know giving free blowjobs is not a good look. Do you realize that's how people speak about you?"
Noelle would be so proud right now.
Veronica gasps, her big brown eyes damn near popping from the sockets. "Just like your entire existence, Maggot. Did you finally grow a backbone? Your friends don't have to fight your battles anymore? Aw."
