Every Last Word Read Free Page A

all out of town on their respective family vacations, and Cassidy was grounded, so I just drove around by myself
for the rest of the afternoon listening to music and enjoying how the steering wheel felt in my hands.
    But every once in a while, I’d glance down at the odometer, fascinated by the way the numbers changed. I felt this strange charge whenever the last digit hit the number three.
    When I finally pulled into the driveway that evening, the last digit was resting on a six, so I backed out again and drove around the block a few times until the odometer stopped where it
belonged. And now I have to do that every time I park. I’m not about to let Alexis and the rest of my friends in on my secret, so I’m happy to have the law as an excuse to drive
alone.
    As I pull into the student lot, the odometer is on nine, so I have to drive all the way to the far end by the tennis courts before I can park on a three. As I cut the ignition, my stomach turns
over violently and my mouth feels dry, so I sit there for a minute taking deep breaths.
    It’s a new year. A fresh start.
    The anxiety eases as I walk through campus. Avery Peterson squeals when she sees me. We hug and promise to catch up later, and then she returns to Dylan O’Keefe and grabs his hand.
    He was my obsession for the first three months of freshman year, starting when he asked me to the homecoming dance and ending when Nick Adler kissed me at a New Year’s Eve party a few
months later and promptly replaced him.
    A few steps later, I spot Tyler Riola sitting with his lacrosse buddies at a table on the far end of the quad. He had my undivided attention for the first part of sophomore year, until I started
dating Kurt Frasier, the only guy who wasn’t a one-sided fixation. I liked Kurt. A lot. And he actually liked me back, at least for a few months.
    Kurt was hard for me to shake, but Brandon finally took center stage in my mind when summer started. I picture him in his Speedo and, as I turn the corner, I wonder what he’s doing right
now.
    I stop short. That can’t be my locker.
    The door is wrapped in bright blue paper and there’s a giant silver bow tied around the middle. I run my hand across it. I can’t believe they did this.
    I glance up just in time to see the crowd part for Alexis. As usual, she looks like she just stepped off the cover of
Teen Vogue
, with her long blond hair, striking green eyes, and
perfect skin. I can hear her high heels tapping on the concrete as her designer sundress swings with each step. She’s holding a giant cupcake with purple and white frosting.
    Kaitlyn is on her right, looking equally pretty but in a completely different way. She’s exotic-pretty. Sexy-pretty. She’s wearing a tight-fitting top with thin straps, and her dark
wavy hair is cascading over her bare shoulders.
    Hailey peels away from the pack and speeds toward me with her arms spread wide. She throws them around my neck and says, “God, you have no idea how much I missed you this summer!” I
squeeze her tighter and tell her I missed her, too. She looks amazing, still tanned from her summer in Spain.
    Olivia’s now within arm’s reach, so I grasp big chunks of her newly dyed jet-black hair with both hands. “Okay, this is totally working for you!” I tell her, and she pops
her hip and says, “I know, right?”
    As my friends close in, all the people around us stop what they’re doing to gather in a little tighter. Because that’s what happens when the Crazy Eights do
anything
. People
watch.
    We started calling ourselves that back in kindergarten, and it kind of stuck. There were eight of us until freshman year, when Ella’s family moved to San Diego and Hannah transferred to a
private high school. Last year, Sarah landed the lead in the school play and started hanging out with her new drama club friends. And we were down to five.
    That’s when I started to realize that friendships in odd numbers are complicated. Eight was good.