Prologue: The Summer Before Junior Year
“Come on, Bibi!” Monique whines before adding a coat of clear gloss over her full lips. “We’re going to be late for the party. The one you insisted we go to tonight,”she reminds me now as she toys with her hair. The dark brown box braids hang just past her shoulders. She glowers at me through the reflection in the mirror.
“I have nothing to wear!” Yes, now I’m whining, but sifting through my closet for something sexy—or, at the very least, something that doesn’t scream “I go to a stuck-up private school”—is next to impossible. And being a Suncrest Saint—even if past tense—isn’t something you advertise when mingling with the Sun Valley Devils. With any luck, we won’t run into any of the true Devils tonight. That would cause all sorts of problems, especially since Monique’s brother happens to be one of them.
He was in a car accident last week and is home recovering, so we should be in the clear. At least, I hope.
“Obviously.” Monique reaches into her overnight bag. “That’s why I brought you this.” She pulls out a sleek, black, bodycon dress and tosses it my way.
I catch it and hold up the barely there dress, an immediate scowl on my face. “No way. I can’t wear that,” I tell her with a firm shake of my head.
Hand on her hip, she turns to me. “And why the hell not?”
“Because half the dress is missing, that’s why,” I hiss, careful to keep my voice down as I give the dress another once-over. Mom and her boyfriend—Miguel—are already in bed, and I don’t want to wake either of them. Going out tonight isn’t exactly approved. But you know the saying, “better to ask forgiveness than permission.” Better yet, if Mom doesn’t find out, then there’s nothing to forgive in the first place.
In my hands, the dress looks no bigger than a t-shirt. A child-sized t-shirt. Yeah, no way am I wearing this.
Monique huffs out a breath. “At least try it on. What happened to you wanting to step out of your comfort zone today, huh? Weren’t you the one who said you wanted to do something daring? Live on the edge?” Her brows lift in an expectant expression. “It’s your last night in Sun Valley, Bibi.”
Urgh, please don’t remind me. “That doesn’t mean I want to go out looking like a dime-store hooker,” I tell her with a huff as a wave of sorrow crashes into me. Tonight is my last night in Sun Valley. Tomorrow, I’m moving. New town. New school. New life. In Richland, of all places. It sucks.
She rolls her eyes before turning away to finish her makeup in the full-length mirror that hangs from the back of my bedroom door. “Do I look like a dime-store hooker to you?” she asks over her shoulder.
“Obviously not,” I snort. Monique is a goddess. Five-foot-eleven with rich brown skin, chestnut-colored eyes, and long braids pulled back into a half pony. She looks like Brandy Norwood from her Moesha days and I would kill to look half as good as she does. Her skin is flawless, and unlike me, she’s managed to acquire curves in all the right places. I, on the other hand, am reed thin and straight as a bean pole. Mom swears I’ll fill out eventually, but I doubt it. Not with my luck. At least I have boobs. Not much, but they’re there.
“Glad we both agree. I’m wearing the exact same dress just in green. Try it on. You’ll like it.”
I roll my eyes but do as she says. It’s not like I have a lot of options here. Most of my things are already packed. And even if they weren’t, I still probably wouldn’t have anything to wear. “Sexy” isn’t really in my wardrobe vocabulary.
“Where did you get this from anyway?” I ask. “And how the heck did you manage to hide it from your mom?”
“Online. And I ordered it when she had a stupid floral shipment arrive for one of her charity things. There were so many delivery people in and out that day, she never noticed my lonely little Fashion Nova box.”
“Sneaky,” I tell her with a wink.
Monique and I have been best friends since middle school, which is how I know her parents would never approve of her wearing a dress like this. It’s all about appearances for the Price family. They even took issue with our school-issued uniform skirts and had hers custom ordered three inches longer than standard. Though the hemline isn’t the only thing about the dress they’d object to. They’d also balk at her wearing anything that wasn’t designer and didn’t cost a fortune. Can’t wear the same clothes as the common folk.
Slipping the dress over my head, I smooth down the fabric and eye myself in the mirror.
“Damn, girl.” Monique whistles. “You look stunning!”
I grimace. “This is…a lot.” Though I can’t pull my eyes away from my reflection. Monique is seven inches taller than me, so while her dress comes down just far enough to cover her butt, mine falls to mid-thigh. It’s strapless and hugs my body like a second skin, giving the illusion of curves I know I don’t have. But…wow.
Monique comes up behind me and pulls the clip from the back of my head, making my long, curly black hair fall around my face.
“This is perfect,” she tells me. “It’s sexy and screams for the love of God, please take my virginity.”
I smack her arm but don’t bother fighting my laugh. “I’m not trying to announce I want my virginity taken.”
She tosses my hair clip on the bed and hands me a tube of bright red lipstick. “Doesn’t change the fact that that is exactly what you’re after. Come on, Bibi. This was your idea. Let’s be rebels for once. We need this. A last hoorah before you abandon me.”
I chew my bottom lip but accept the lipstick and move closer to the mirror to put it on. Squaring my shoulders, I remind myself that I’m leaving Sun Valley with zero regrets. I’ve spent the last sixteen years of my life being the good girl. The girl who never stepped out of line. Never caused a fuss. Never broke the rules.
I need to breathe. Even if it’s only for one night.
At first, I was always on my best behavior because Mom was pregnant. She was older, the pregnancy unplanned, and it wasn’t without complications. She needed help and support and I wanted to be there for her.
Then it was because my baby brother was sick. My parents had their hands full dealing with Afonso’s condition. I didn’t need to add to their plate by being reckless, and I didn’t want to take attention away from Afonso. He was my baby brother. He was everything.
