Perfectly Messy by Lizzy Charles Page A

degrees is heavenly in Minnesota in mid-November. I know it’s horrible, but in this moment, I’m thankful for global warming. For once the sting of Minnesota’s winter isn’t infringing upon its fall.
    “We went for caramel. Hope that’s cool,” Laura says as she slides a fresh pie in front of me. “Fork or spoon?” Laura digs in with her own spoon while Jennifer joins us at the table.
    “Fork’s great.”
    She hands me a wimpy plastic fork and shrugs. “It’s all they had.”
    “No matter, it’ll do.” I dig in through the flaky crust, scooping up an apple slice covered in the caramel goo. The crusts melt the moment it touches my tongue. The apple’s tartness slices through the sugary caramel. Oh, man. Heavenly, hot, melty goo. “You two taking Family Consumer Science may be the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I hope this got an A.”
    Jennifer sighs after her bite, angling her face up towards the sun. “A+. I’m like, the best cook.”
    Laura clears her throat, biting her lip and holding back a grin.
    “Umm,” I say, remembering how Jennifer managed to burn mac and cheese during our last girls’ night.
    Jennifer rolls her eyes. “Okay, so Laura had some pointers to offer. But I measured the ingredients and stuff.”
    “Right. That counts as cooking.”
    The moment Jennifer closes her eyes and angles her face toward the sun, Laura mouths, “I re-measured.”
    “I heard that,” Jennifer says.
    “You hear everything,” Laura pouts.
    “It’s my superpower.”
    “I want a superpower.”
    “Oh hush up, you can cook.” Jennifer loops her hair up into a high messy bun. The football and lacrosse players sitting across the quad all ogle her. I purposely make my eyes skip over Zach. The sight of him still makes my skin crawl.
    “Seriously, Jennifer. You’ve got to stop doing that.” Laura throws a piece of crust at her. “It’s not fair to all the chicks that actually want to get with dicks, ya know?”
    I nearly choke on an apple slice. Crap, Laura. She loves to run away with words. Thankfully, Jennifer laughs. I’m still surprised that Jennifer dared to tell Laura about Trish, especially with Laura being from the south. I have no idea how that conversation went but, clearly, Laura’s embraced it.
    Jennifer nods back towards the table. “If you want a piece of them, I’m not stopping you.”
    “No need,” Laura sits up straighter, emphasizing her southern accent. “I’m a lady, thank you.” Now I’m laughing. Laura is the opposite of ladylike. She’s already downed over half the pie.
    “Well, then do you mind sharing more than a quarter of the pie with Jen and me?” I ask, scooping up a huge bite. She shoos my hand away.
    “Excuse me? Did you make this pie?”
    Jennifer opens her mouth to fight for me.
    “Oh, don’t even try to make a case for you cooking this, Jen.”
    Jen falls silent. I reach across with my fork, trying to slide past Laura’s guard. Fail.
    “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Laura says teasingly. She scoops up the pie tin as she stands. “My pie.”
    I lift my eyebrow. “Point proven. Not a lady.”
    “Oh, hush up,” Laura says with a wink as she weaves her way through the courtyard over to Luke. She passes a table of guys with Marissa perched on the end. Marissa plays with her hair and occasionally moves the sweater off her shoulder so she can massage her neck. Her eyes catch mine. My gut drops and I chicken out, breaking her glare. Seriously. Why does she keep doing that? All week she’s been trying to catch my attention. It’s driving me crazy.
    I pretend to stretch, really checking out to see what the heck Zach’s up to. He’s on his phone again. Did they break up? I guess I haven’t seen them smashed up against the lockers for a while.
    Marissa’s flirting squeal rings through the courtyard. Jennifer covers her ears.
    “Does she have any idea what she sounds like?”
    “Yup.” I cover my ears as she does it again. “She knows