January. Age sixteen.

It was all I could do to simply survive.

High school, to be specific. Phoenix wasn’t any different than the other places I’d lived. No matter how many times my mom moved us around, no matter how many schools I went to, they were all the same. Ruled by a hierarchical social structure as stratified as the caste system. Everyone knew their place, and the only safe place was at the top.

Which was the opposite of where I existed.

But the day was over, the last class finished. Some kids hurried outside to catch the bus, or simply to put as much distance as possible between themselves and this prison of a building. Others lingered in the hallway, gossiping with friends, making plans.

Most kids had somewhere else to go that was better than school. Home. Sports practice. A club meeting. A job. I didn’t. I took my time, walking alone toward my locker, my eyes on the ground. I wasn’t athletic by any definition of the word, and bouncing around from school to school made it hard to get involved in any activities. I was too quiet to make friends easily.

I was the weird girl. Funky clothes. Blue and pink streaks in my dark brown hair. Always sitting in the back of the class, scribbling in a notebook. I wasn’t shy, necessarily. I’d just given up trying. It was hard to work your way into an established group of friends. And anyway, by the time I did, my mom would always move us again. So I tried to ignore the social goings-on of high school life. It was January, and I was a junior. That meant eighteen months until graduation. Eighteen months until I would be free. I could make it.

A group of girls stood on the other side of the hallway, across from my locker. The Mean Girls. They wore the label with pride. They even had matching MG stickers on the backs of their phone cases. Since moving here, I’d kept under their radar. I was beneath most people’s notice.

But for some reason, the Mean Girls had started to pay attention to me. They stood close together, leaning in to speak in low voices, their eyes on me. I quickly put in my locker combination so I could get out of their line of sight.

“I don’t know what’s up with her shoes,” Karina Bowen said, making no effort to keep me from hearing.

I stopped myself from looking down at my shoes—worn-out blue Converse. I didn’t want to acknowledge that I’d heard her comment.

“I can’t even with those jeans,” Harmony Linwood said. Karina’s right-hand bitch. Those two were never far apart. The others huffed and made noises of agreement and disgust. Tapped manicured fingernails. Rolled eyes caked in makeup.

I kept my gaze on my locker and shoved a few books into my bag. Ignore them, Brooke. Just ignore them.

“Hey, Brooke,” Karina said. “You know, there’s a thrift store that’s walking distance from here. Might improve your look. Just a tip, sweetie.”

Giggles. As if that was such a clever thing to say.

Still, my cheeks flushed hot and I bit the inside of my lip. Anger that my red face was going to betray me when I turned around mixed with the shame they were so good at dishing out.

More whispers and giggles.

“Oh, of course she’s a fucking lesbian,” Karina said. “Anyone can see that. And it’s probably a good thing. What guy would date her?”

I could feel eyes on my back, burning into me like red-hot brands. I balled my hands into fists.

“Hey, Brooke.”

The male voice startled me and I glanced up to find Liam Harper leaning casually against the locker next to mine. Blue eyes, careless dark blond hair, and a smile that would have made me feel fluttery and weak even if I was a lesbian. Which I wasn’t. Especially when Liam Harper was around.

But why was he talking to me?

“Um, hi.”

The Mean Girls had gone silent and I saw Liam’s eyes flick toward them once, then back to me. He opened his mouth to say something, but Karina had crossed the hallway and stepped close.

“Hey, Liam,” she said, a phony sweetness to her tone. “Did you see they announced the theme for the Valentine’s dance? Hollywood Nights.”

His forehead creased a little. “Uh, yeah. Sounds a lot like the theme from last year.”

She somehow managed to shoot a micro-glare at me while almost simultaneously batting her eyelashes at Liam. I wanted to take the opportunity to make a break for it, but curiosity had me rooted to the spot. Why had Liam talked to me?

“Well, I think it’s going to be amazing,” Karina said. “Do you have a date yet?”

I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling. Obvious, much?

“Yeah,” he said.

Her face registered surprise, her mouth popping open. That wasn’t the answer she’d expected. “You do? Who?”

“Brooke,” he said.

Karina huffed, her mouth dropping open. “Brooke Summerlin? You mean, her?”

Liam met my eyes and treated me to a little grin. “Yep. Right, Brooke?”

My mind spun as I stared at him. What was he doing? Was this some sort of pity thing? Or was he waiting for me to agree so he could pull the rug out and laugh in my face? My cheeks flushed hotter and I swallowed hard.

The possibility of being able to look Karina Bowen in the eye and tell her I was going to the dance with Liam Harper was too much temptation. If this was a prank, I’d risk the humiliation.

“Yeah,” I said, glancing at Karina. “I’m going with Liam.”

Liam’s smile widened. Karina’s look of disgust was about two steps past ridiculous. You’d have thought someone just told her she stepped in a big pile of dog shit.

“Oh,” she said. With another scathing look at me, she flipped her hair and walked back to her minions.

The Mean Girls backed their leader with more glares at me, but I barely noticed. I stared at Liam, knowing he wasn’t actually taking me to the dance. There was no way he’d ask me. But standing up for me like that had been such a nice—and completely unexpected—thing to do.

“Wow, that was… pretty amusing, actually,” I said, watching the Mean Girls flounce down the hallway.

“Amusing?” he asked. “Why?”

“Well, you know, the look on Karina’s face,” I said.

He glanced over his shoulder, as if he’d already forgotten about them. “Oh, yeah.”

I shifted on my feet, feeling a little awkward. My locker still hung open, so I pulled out my bag and slung it over my shoulder, then closed the locker door. “I guess I should get going.”

“You live next door to me, don’t you?” he asked.

I shrugged, trying to maintain a casual air. But inside I reeled from the knowledge that Liam Harper knew I lived next door to him. Of course, I knew where he lived. I’d noticed him within days of moving in. But the fact that he’d made the connection that I was his neighbor left me a little breathless.

“Um, yeah, I do,” I said.

“But I don’t see you around much,” he said.

“I guess not.”

“So what are you up to all the time? You know, when I’m not seeing you around?”

“I don’t know. I just do my thing. School, other stuff, you know.”

“What other stuff?” he asked, still leaning against the locker.

“Um,” I said, fumbling. Was he really still talking to me? “I read and listen to music a lot. Try to avoid my mom.”

“Yeah,” he said with a chuckle. “Cool. So I should get your number.”

“What?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Your number. You know, digits? So I can call or text you. I guess I can just come over if I need to talk to you, but it might be nice to have another means of communication since I’m taking you to the dance.”

I blinked in surprise. He could not be serious. “You’re what?”

“Taking you to the dance,” he said. “You did just agree to go with me, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but… I didn’t think you were serious.”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”

“Oh. Okay, yeah.” My heart raced. I gave him my phone number and he typed it into his phone, then gave me his. I was amazed my fingers didn’t shake as I entered him into my contacts.

It hit me as I stared at his name on my phone screen that I had nothing to wear to a formal dance, and certainly no money to buy a dress. My mom wouldn’t cough up the cash for something like that. Money for weed, or the pills and blow she thought I didn’t know about, sure. But for me? Not a chance.

God, it was so disappointing. But better to do this now than have to cancel on him later. “You know, I actually don’t know if I can go. I mean, I want to. But the dance is in a couple weeks, and it might be hard for me to find a dress on such short notice.”

“Oh,” he said, his face dropping. “That sucks.” He raised his eyebrows and started typing on his phone again. “You know what? My sister Olivia has a few dresses. She’s about your size, and it’s not like she’s going to wear them again. I’m sure she’ll let you borrow one.”

I found myself almost speechless again. “I… are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m texting her right now,” he said, still typing. “Since you live next door, you can just come over sometime and pick one. Shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Wow, that’s really nice. Thank you.”

“Sure. Hey, I have to get to practice.” He smiled again, complete with a little nibble of his bottom lip. “See you later.”

I watched him walk away, his athletic shoulders pulling against his shirt, his cute butt filling out his jeans so well. I felt like I was living someone’s teenage dream in a YA novel. Did the weird quiet girl just get asked out by one of the hottest guys at school? The one Queen Mean herself had set her sights on?

It seemed it had actually happened.

Resisting the urge to clutch a book to my chest, lean back against the lockers, and gaze dreamily up at the ceiling, I adjusted my bag again. With a deep breath, I headed toward the exit, my head spinning.

But for the first time in months, I was smiling.