Projection Read Free Page A

they beamed into Gretchen’s phone.
This one
, she thought,
goes up on the bulletin board in my room
.
    “Wait, what are you wearing tonight again?” Jessica asked.
    “I
told
you already, remember? The green dress and the gold shoes.”
    She’d been through all of this with Jessica over texts: Mom had made a two-hour drive into Beverly Hills last weekend (which was why Gretchen couldn’t hang out). They’d gone in search of a perfect dress for her to wear to the graduation party that Mom and Dad were throwing for the whole eighth grade class. They’d settled on a long, pale green Haute Hippie—elegant but casual. They’d also found a pair of gold Prada wedge sandals that she knew she’d wear all summer long. Normally, Mom didn’t make such an outrageous fuss on clothes and shoes for Gretchen, but she kept insisting it was such a special occasion and important for the future …
    “Oh, right,” Jessica said.
    Only then did it hit her. Mom had known all along that she was going to win that Oculus Society Award. Mom had been lying at the podium.
    “I’m just asking because I don’t know what
I
should wear,” Jessica added.
    Gretchen blinked. Her annoyance melted away. She felt a twinge of guilt. Jessica had no parents to take
her
shopping for a dress in Beverly Hills. Gretchen had been so busythinking about herself that she hadn’t even considered how hard this was for her best friend: no family present at one of the most important days of her life.
    “Is your aunt here?” Gretchen asked, searching the swarm of families.
    “I
told
you already, remember?” Jessica muttered, mimicking Gretchen. “She had to work this morning. Rob’s here, though. He went like this when I got my diploma.” She held up the thumb and pinkie of her left hand, then shrugged. “Michelle said she was going to try to make it.”
    Michelle should rot in hell
, Gretchen thought, not for the first time. Without thinking, she looped her arm under Jessica’s and leaned in close. Since Jessica’s parents had died seven years ago in a car accident, she’d been living with her aunt Michelle. There was only one problem: Michelle didn’t comprehend that she was supposed to act—if not like Jessica’s mother exactly—then at least like someone who gave a shit. Worse, she made no secret that she resented being burdened with her sister’s kid before she had any kids of her own. (Once, Jessica had confided that Michelle had slapped her after she’d gotten caught snooping around in Michelle’s lingerie drawer.) The only upside was Michelle’s husband, Rob. He was a really nice guy—though more in a cool, older brother way than in a stepdad way. So while he could talk
Girls
(which Jessica wasn’t supposed to watch) and Adele (which he didn’t consider “real music”), he didn’t offer much in the way of parental guidance. And his problem was that he never intervened when Michelle got out of hand.
    If it had been up to Gretchen, she would have called Child Protective Services and invited Jessica come live with her family. But Octavia Harris refused to get involved. Michelle wasa member of the Oculus Society, as was Jessica, as was Jessica’s deceased mother. And members of the Oculus Society didn’t cause problems in each other’s lives. Period.
    “I just remembered that I have a white dress that would look
amazing
on you,” Gretchen heard herself say. “You should come over and try it on.”
    Jessica didn’t hesitate. “Well, I was going to wear that black dress that I wore to the Valentine’s Dance, but if you think this would look better, I mean, I guess I could try it.”
    “Definitely,” Gretchen said. And then she flipped her hand up in front of Jessica’s face, knocking her cap right off of her head.
    “Hey!” Jessica laughed. She flipped her hand up to Gretchen’s cap and did it right back to her. Bobby pins went flying in all directions.
    “Oh, thank God,” Gretchen said, smoothing down her dark hair.