looks as though the journal really did do its job. Reenzie isn’t as sickly sweet to me after that first day, but she does something even better: she ignores me. She doesn’t stare, sneer, or laugh. It’s not even like she goes out of her way to turn up her nose and snub me. If she happens to meet my eye, I get the same bland nothing she might give a freshman.
It’s like I don’t even exist.
It’s a little slice of paradise.
Then I see something on the way into school one morningthat’s so shocking, I grab J.J.’s arm hard enough to leave a bruise.
“Do you see that?” I hiss.
J.J. doesn’t answer. When I turn to face him I realize it’s because he’s catatonic. His mouth is wide open, and even though I watch him for a full minute, he doesn’t blink once.
I turn back to the show. A red Mustang convertible sits in the back of the school parking lot, under some palm trees. The spot is shaded and well tucked away from the front entrance but very much in view of our walking route. The car’s top is down, and Reenzie and a hot junior guy I recognize from track—Trevor, a sprinter—are in the backseat, making out so frantically and breathlessly it’s impossible not to stare.
“If she’s with Trevor, I’m off her list, right?” I ask Amalita, filling her in when we get to school.
Amalita has a math quiz, and she’s in deep prep mode. “Um, right. Looking good. For now.” Then she goes back to her notebook.
I can’t blame Amalita for being cautious. She doesn’t know about the journal. Jenna does, so I text her the minute I get the chance.
Wow!
she texts back.
Journal = SERIOUS wish power. Just be careful, OK?
I’m honestly not worried. The Winter Formal is only a few days away now, and there are a million things I need to do to get ready. Mom wanted to take me dress shopping, but I told her I wanted to go with Amalita, and she seemed okay with that. We do look at some magazines together, though, and she loves that. I like it too. It’s fun to see Mom get so excited, even though her choices are kind of boring.
When Amalita and I hit the mall after school, we go straight to the department stores. She finds a clingy purple floor-length gown with rhinestones up one side and a slit to mid-thigh that would look laughable on me, but she has the curves and personality to pull it off. When she bursts out of the dressing room in it, she reaches her arms out in both directions.
“How do I look?” she asks. “And how will I look with a man on each arm?”
“Fabulous and extra fabulous,” I say. Amalita, Jack, and J.J. are going to the formal together as friends.
“You sure J.J.’s not mad at me?” I ask once she’s back in her regular clothes and we’re scanning the racks.
“For saying yes to another guy before he even asked you?” Amalita asks. “He has a crush on you; he’s not insane.”
She pulls out a sleeveless emerald-green dress and holds it against me, then frowns and puts it back.
“Besides,” she says, “we went as friends last year and it was really fun. Me, Jack, J.J., and Taylor. Rented a limo, went to Denny’s at midnight.… We swore we’d do it that way every year. Which reminds me.”
She scrolls through her phone, then shows me the screen. It’s the four of them posed on a limousine in a parking lot. Amalita and Taylor are back-to-back on the hood of the car, Jack is dangling upside down off the roof, and J.J. is popping out of the sunroof, arms spread wide. The yellow Denny’s sign shines in the background.
“Looks like fun,” I say truthfully.
“I’m texting it to Taylor,” Amalita says. “I’m sending her one every day this week so she’ll remember what she’s missing.” She glances down at her phone. “Look, I know that if Taylor dumped me she’s not worthy of me, but I can’t stop myself from wanting to humiliate her.”
I study her face. “Are you sure you want to do that?” It seems a little desperate.
Amalita nods. “She misses
It’s like I don’t even exist.
It’s a little slice of paradise.
Then I see something on the way into school one morningthat’s so shocking, I grab J.J.’s arm hard enough to leave a bruise.
“Do you see that?” I hiss.
J.J. doesn’t answer. When I turn to face him I realize it’s because he’s catatonic. His mouth is wide open, and even though I watch him for a full minute, he doesn’t blink once.
I turn back to the show. A red Mustang convertible sits in the back of the school parking lot, under some palm trees. The spot is shaded and well tucked away from the front entrance but very much in view of our walking route. The car’s top is down, and Reenzie and a hot junior guy I recognize from track—Trevor, a sprinter—are in the backseat, making out so frantically and breathlessly it’s impossible not to stare.
“If she’s with Trevor, I’m off her list, right?” I ask Amalita, filling her in when we get to school.
Amalita has a math quiz, and she’s in deep prep mode. “Um, right. Looking good. For now.” Then she goes back to her notebook.
I can’t blame Amalita for being cautious. She doesn’t know about the journal. Jenna does, so I text her the minute I get the chance.
Wow!
she texts back.
Journal = SERIOUS wish power. Just be careful, OK?
I’m honestly not worried. The Winter Formal is only a few days away now, and there are a million things I need to do to get ready. Mom wanted to take me dress shopping, but I told her I wanted to go with Amalita, and she seemed okay with that. We do look at some magazines together, though, and she loves that. I like it too. It’s fun to see Mom get so excited, even though her choices are kind of boring.
When Amalita and I hit the mall after school, we go straight to the department stores. She finds a clingy purple floor-length gown with rhinestones up one side and a slit to mid-thigh that would look laughable on me, but she has the curves and personality to pull it off. When she bursts out of the dressing room in it, she reaches her arms out in both directions.
“How do I look?” she asks. “And how will I look with a man on each arm?”
“Fabulous and extra fabulous,” I say. Amalita, Jack, and J.J. are going to the formal together as friends.
“You sure J.J.’s not mad at me?” I ask once she’s back in her regular clothes and we’re scanning the racks.
“For saying yes to another guy before he even asked you?” Amalita asks. “He has a crush on you; he’s not insane.”
She pulls out a sleeveless emerald-green dress and holds it against me, then frowns and puts it back.
“Besides,” she says, “we went as friends last year and it was really fun. Me, Jack, J.J., and Taylor. Rented a limo, went to Denny’s at midnight.… We swore we’d do it that way every year. Which reminds me.”
She scrolls through her phone, then shows me the screen. It’s the four of them posed on a limousine in a parking lot. Amalita and Taylor are back-to-back on the hood of the car, Jack is dangling upside down off the roof, and J.J. is popping out of the sunroof, arms spread wide. The yellow Denny’s sign shines in the background.
“Looks like fun,” I say truthfully.
“I’m texting it to Taylor,” Amalita says. “I’m sending her one every day this week so she’ll remember what she’s missing.” She glances down at her phone. “Look, I know that if Taylor dumped me she’s not worthy of me, but I can’t stop myself from wanting to humiliate her.”
I study her face. “Are you sure you want to do that?” It seems a little desperate.
Amalita nods. “She misses
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