“Are you sure you want to go?” my mom asks me as I slip on my favorite pair of velvet platforms. “I thought maybe we could stay up and watch a movie together.”

“Sorry, but I promised my friends I’d go with them to this party.” I put on a dab of lip-gloss and some eyeliner, getting ready to hit the road.

“But I want to give you your birthday present at midnight,” she tries to entice me to stay.

I comb my fingers through my long brown hair then grab my purse off my dresser. “You can give it to me anytime tomorrow. It’ll be my birthday all day.”

“I know that, but …” She trails off, chewing on her bottom lip.

I pause. “Is everything okay? You seem, I don’t know, worried.”

Her frown deepens. “I’ve just been thinking about how you’re going to be turning eighteen tomorrow. You’re growing up so fast. It seems like just yesterday you could barely tie your shoes.” She blows out a breath. “Now look at you. All dressed up in heels.”

My stomach ravels with guilt. “If you really want me to stay home, I will.”

She clutches her vial of sand dangling around her neck. “Okay.” She swallows hard, then frees a trapped breath. “If you want to go, then go.” It takes her a ton of effort to get the words out.

I study her closely. My mom looks a lot like me, only older, with the same brown hair, warm brown eyes, and above average height. I also know her well enough to know that she clutches her necklace whenever she’s anxious. Right now, she’s holding the damn thing as if her life depends on it. She’s never been much of a nervous person, except for that one Christmas Eve when she briefly mentioned my family’s past. Her ability to remain composed in any circumstance is why she does such a fantastic job at putting events together.

“Maybe I could come home around eleven,” I suggest, hoping to alleviate some of her worry. “That way I’ll be back in time to open a present at midnight.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Okay. I’ll wait up for you. And call me if you need anything—a ride home or whatever.”

“Thanks. I will. And thanks for letting me go.”

As I hug her goodbye, she clasps on to me for dear life.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“Of course.” Her arms tighten around me. “Do me a favor, though. If anything weird happens tonight, promise you’ll call me.”

“Weird how?”

“I don’t know. You get a flat tire, feel a little … odd, or if a stranger tries to talk to you. Promise me, okay?”

I nod, starting to get a bit worried. “Okay. I promise.”

She hugs me a little bit longer before reluctantly pulling away. “Now go have fun.”

The guilt in my stomach consumes me again, but I shove it down, knowing my friends would never let me live it down if I blew off the party tonight.

After I say goodbye to my mom, I hop into my BMW and drive down the street to pick up my friends. As I hug the corners, winding around the hills, my thoughts drift back to my mom. She seemed so upset and was acting strange this morning, too.

“Maybe you should just skip school,” she said as I grabbed a granola bar from the pantry. “I could blow off getting my hair done, and we could drive to town and do some shopping.”

“Midterms are today, so I can’t skip.” I peeled the wrapper off the granola bar and took a bite. “Raincheck, though. Maybe tomorrow or Sunday?”

“Tomorrow?” She dazed off, her skin paling. “Tomorrow’s your birthday.”

“I know, but going shopping with you would be a pretty awesome present. For you and for me.” When I smiled at her, she wouldn’t even look at me.

“Maybe.” Then she muttered something about needing to talk to my dad before hurrying out of the room.

I hadn’t thought too much about it, but after her acting so strange tonight … something is wrong. Maybe me getting another year older is hard on her?

I make a promise to myself to spend tomorrow morning with her before my party.

I tear myself out of my thoughts as I pull into the driveway of Kara’s two-story mansion with giant ivory columns lining the oversized, double front doors.

I honk the horn a few times then send her a text to get her ass out here. In Kara style, she comes waltzing out fifteen minutes later, huffing an aggravated breath as she hops in the passenger seat.

“You’re late,” she says as she flips down the visor to check her makeup. “Steph just texted me, wondering where the hell we are. Now she’s going to be bitchy all night.”

“I’ve been out here for fifteen minutes.” I shift the car into reverse and back out onto the road. “It’s your fault we’re late, dude.”

She flips the visor back up and sits back. “Remi, I love you to death, but you need to stop calling everyone dude.”

“Okay,” I say, then smile as I add, “Dude.”

She sighs as she whips out her phone from her jacket pocket. “I need to text Jay about something.” She punches a few buttons, and moments later, she giggles.

I crank up the radio. Texting Jay about something means the two of them will message back and forth for the rest of the drive. It’s not a big deal. In about five minutes or so, Steph will climb into the car and talk my ear off.

Kara, Steph, Jane, and I formed a friendship the first day of kindergarten during arts and crafts time, after we were assigned to the same table. The three of them had already been friends since the day they were born, mainly because their parents were all friends. For some reason, they decided to bring me into their group. And in turn, my parents became friends with all their parents, which helped my mom shoot up her social status and got my father more connections for his business.

It’s strange, but I can’t even remember the time before I made friends with the three of them. It’s like those six years prior were just a dream I’ve long forgotten. And when I try to force my mind to go back further, all I see is darkness. Empty, cold, depressing darkness.