Every Last Word Read Free Page B

Six was good. But five? Five was bad, because someone’s always the odd girl out.
Often, that’s me.
    “Happy birthday, gorgeous!” Alexis says, bouncing in place as she gives me the cupcake.
    The smile on my face grows even wider. “My birthday was two weeks ago.”
    “True, but we were all talking about how much it must suck to have a summer birthday. None of us even got to celebrate with you.” I’m surprised Alexis hasn’t mentioned
this earlier. I saw her twice last week, and both times we talked about the spa day her mom is planning and the new convertible she’s getting for
her
birthday.
    “This is so perfect, you guys,” I say, holding up the cupcake and then pointing to the bow on my locker. “Seriously. Thank you.”
    There’s a chorus of
You’re welcome
s and
We love you
s. And then Alexis steps forward. “Hey,” she whispers. “Sorry about all the texts this morning, but
I have to talk to you about something and I was hoping to do it in private.”
    “What’s up?” I try to make my voice sound light, but the second she said the words “I have to talk to you,” my stomach twisted right back into that tight knot
I’ve been trying to loosen since the parking lot. Those words are never good.
    “We’ll talk about it at lunch,” she says. And just when I was starting to feel like this was the best first day of school ever, I’m now dreading lunch.
    Kaitlyn steps in to hug me. “Are you shaking?” she asks.
    Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
    “Too much coffee this morning, I guess.” The warning bell rings and I turn to my locker and start dialing the combination with trembling fingers. “I’ll see you guys
later.”
    Once the Eights are gone, the rest of the crowd takes off to first period. I set the cupcake on the empty shelf and grab the door to steady myself.
    Taped on the inside of my locker door, I see all the photos and mementos I’ve saved over the last two years. There are pictures of the five of us dressed up in the school colors for spirit
week, and the four of us surrounding Kaitlyn when she won homecoming princess last year. There’s a copy of the noise ordinance we got when Alexis’s parents left town last Halloween and
we threw this epic party people talked about for months afterward. Scattered around, covering any sliver of paint, are my ticket stubs. It’s an impressive, eclectic collection—ranging
from bands no one’s ever heard of to names like Beyoncé, Lady Gaga, and Justin Timberlake—thanks to Olivia’s dad, who owns an indie record label and always gets us seats in
the VIP section.
    I use the small mirror to check my makeup and whisper, “Don’t. Freak. Out.” Then I close the door and stare at the wrapping one more time, letting my fingertip trail across the
surface, running my thumb across the silver bow.
    “That was really nice.” The voice is so faint, at first I wonder if I’m hearing things. I turn to see who spoke, but her locker is blocking her face.
    “Excuse me?” I hope she didn’t see me pathetically fondling the bow.
    “You have really nice friends.” She swings the door closed and walks over to me, pointing at the wrapping paper. I almost reply “Not always,” but I catch myself.
It’s a new year. A new start. And today, I do have really nice friends.
    “How’d they get your locker open?”
    “They all know the combo. It’s kind of a birthday tradition. We’ve been wrapping each other’s lockers since middle school. This is only the second time they’ve
wrapped mine, but you know, those were big birthdays. Thirteen and now…” I reach for the silver bow again. “Sixteen.”
    Why am I telling her this?
    I look around, realizing that the corridors are now empty. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
    “Apparently not.” She points to the end of the row. “My locker has been there since freshman year, but we haven’t formally met or anything. I’m Caroline
Madsen.”
    I take her in, starting with her feet. Brown