The Good Girls by Sara Shepard Page B

used to feel so routinely that she’d always taken it for granted. But then she thought of how terrible her face looked, how damaged and broken she was. There was nothing about New Parker he could be attracted to. She was disgusting.
    And yet . . . could he have somehow seen the old Parker, nestled deep inside? Because she knew that somewhere, deep down, that Parker was still in there. And maybe, with help, New Parker could let her out.
    She took a breath, meeting his gaze once more. “Yes,” she decided. “I’ll come back.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    A FEW HOURS LATER, JULIE let Carson take her hand as they walked across the parking lot downtown. She couldn’t believe they were doing this, right out here in front of . . . well, everyone. And more than that, she still couldn’t believe he wanted to.
    People passed them on either side. Julie didn’t recognize anyone from school yet, but she knew they would be here—it was Thursday night, prime hanging-out-downtown time. Then a familiar girl slipped around the corner. She had a navy Marc by Marc Jacobs satchel that Julie recognized, because Julie had the same one.
    Ashley? Julie’s heart started to bang in her chest, and her palms felt clammy. She pulled her hand away.
    â€œWhat is it?” Carson turned to look at her.
    Julie flinched. “Nothing. Sorry. I just thought I saw someone over there.”
    Carson eyed her for a moment, then shrugged and gestured to an American Apparel store. “Want to go inside?”
    â€œNo!” Julie said it a little more forcefully than was normal. But everyone at Beacon High shopped at American Apparel. Surely someone she knew was in there.
    Carson was looking at her even more strangely now. She swallowed hard and tried to regain her composure. “American Apparel is so mainstream ,” she said in a flip voice. “I have a secret place I like around the corner. It’s so hip that the workers look down on the customers. If you don’t have cool facial hair or tattoos or, like, read the right indie blogs, they’ll roll their eyes.”
    Carson raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure I’m cool enough to go?”
    She smiled in spite of her nerves. “You, Carson Wells, are the coolest of the cool.”
    â€œEven without creative facial hair?”
    â€œPlease don’t get creative facial hair,” Julie giggled.
    Then Carson leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. Julie peeked around to see if anyone was watching, but all the passersby were minding their own business. Of course they are, she told herself. She needed to just relax. She could do that, right?
    They walked to the corner and turned toward the smaller streets just off the main drag. Julie’s favorite boutique, Tara’s Consignment, was ahead. It was where she bought most of her clothes; designer cast-offs at a fraction of the price, allshe could afford on her lifeguard salary. As she took in the Gone with the Wind display in the windows—the owner was obsessed with the movie—she thought back to the last time she’d been shopping at Tara’s. She’d bought Parker a studded bracelet. Not that Parker had even worn it.
    Parker. Things still felt off between them. They hadn’t really talked about what happened to Parker’s dad—or the coincidence of him dying not long after Julie had named him in class. Even though Julie still wasn’t sure anyone overheard them, she had to admit it was a strange coincidence. She wished she knew what had happened to the notes Granger had taken on the yellow legal pad, documenting what they’d said. She’d sworn she’d taken the pad, but when she’d riffled through her things, it wasn’t there.
    On top of that, Parker was disappearing more and more often lately, and it seemed like she couldn’t remember where she’d been. And whenever Julie asked, Parker got weird and cagey, like she was hiding