Two hours later, school has ended and Elodie and I are strolling across the packed parking lot toward her fancy schmancy car. The sun is glistening in the clear blue sky, a gentle breeze kisses the air, and the atmosphere is laced with chatter about the last day of school, for seniors, anyway.

“I’m so glad high school is officially over,” Elodie singsongs, rummaging her keys out of the pocket of her black skinny jeans. “I swear to God, this place was getting shittier by the second.”

“Yeah, it was,” I agree, adjusting the handle of my backpack higher onto my shoulder.

God, I can’t believe I’m no longer a high school student. Holy crap! Happy dances!

“No more pep rallies. No more stupid games. No more watching my dumbass brother and his friends trip the mascot.” She presses the key fob and the lights of her Porsche flash as the doors unlock. “You’d think after three years of doing the same prank, they could come up with a new one. Then again, originality probably requires too my brainwork for them.”

I nod in agreement. “I just wish Principal Mattersien would have done something about it. It’s like he was completely blind when it came to your brother and his friends.”

“I know, which is why we need to do something about it.” She grins as we reach her car. “And I think I have an idea.”

I sigh heavily. She usually drops her whole revenge-against-Carter plot after she’s had a cigarette. But all during last period, she whispered ideas to me of how we could crush Carter’s heart and pay him back for all the years of his douchebaggery, which has been a lot of years.

Unfortunately, Elodie, while sassy and outspoken, doesn’t excel at creating revenge schemes. Don’t believe me? Well, how about this: She actually suggested that we hire a prostitute to have sex with Carter, and then break his heart by telling him he isn’t good in bed. That might wound the ego of a normal guy, but Carter isn’t a normal guy. He’s a guy who’s had a lot of sex—at least, according to rumors around school—and has never had any complaints. In fact, girls frequently go back for seconds, some even begging. It’s pathetic. Then again, I’m not any better.

But, being a good best friend, I need to at least listen to Elodie’s plan. Then, like I did with her other ten suggestions, I’ll point out the flaws.

“Oh, yeah? What is it?” I ask as I pull open the passenger door.

She puts a finger to her lips. “Not out here in the open. There’s too many Carter fan club ears around.”

“Excellent point.” I duck my head and slide onto the leather seat.

She hops in, too, starts the engine, and then rolls down all four windows.

“Are you coming to my place or going home?” she asks as she maneuvers her car out of the parking space.

When a decked-out, lifted truck gets in her way, she slams on the brakes and lays on her horn.

“Get the hell out of my way, Holden!” she shouts out the window at the driver, who just happens to be one of Carter’s closest friends.

Instead of moving out of the way, Holden stops his truck and rolls down his window. “Elodie, glad to see that the warm weather hasn’t melted that icy heart of yours.”

She smirks. “Nice tan, Holden. Tell me, when you went into the tanning salon, did you hand them a photo of an oompa loompa and say that’s the color you wanted?”

His eyes glint mischievously. “Actually, I showed them a photo of you.”

She flips her hair off her shoulder and smirks. “My tan is au naturel.”

His lips spread into a cocky grin. “Sure it is.”

“Whatever. Like I give a shit what you think.” Then she slams her foot down on the gas, spinning tires as the car zooms toward the side of Holden’s truck.

He panics and drives forward quickly, yelling out his window, “You’re so damn crazy!”

Elodie laughs wickedly. “He says that like it’s an insult.”

“To most people, it is,” I point out as I fasten my seatbelt.

“I’m not most people, though.”

“No, you’re not. You’re way better.”

She sticks out her fist. “Hell yeah, I am.”

I tap my knuckles against hers and laugh.

“You are, too,” she says, returning her hand to the steering wheel. She steers her car toward the exit, driving slowly due to the other fifty or so students trying to escape high school hell. “Which is why I’m going to need your help with my Revenge Against Carter and His Douchey Friends Scheme that I fully plan to put into motion all through the summer.”

“And what exactly does your plan—”

“Get me away from her!” A guy dives through the opened back window and lands in the backseat with a grunt.

I don’t react, already knowing who the intruder is. The same guy who’s been diving into Elodie’s car ever since she got her driver’s license.

I twist around in the seat, laughing as Gaige, who sometimes hangs out with Elodie and I, flattens his back against the seat. “Who are you hiding from this time?”

He nudges his backpack onto the floor then looks at me. “Laura Flaterisord.” He rakes his fingers through his dark hair. “I don’t know what’s wrong with girls. I tell her upfront that I’m not looking for a relationship, and she says she isn’t, too. Then we hook up, and now she won’t leave me alone.” He huffs in frustration. “This happens every single time.”

“I might know a solution to your problem.” Elodie glances at him in the rearview mirror. “Stop being a dirty, little manwhore and stop hooking up with anything that has breasts and a vagina.”

“I don’t hook up with everyone who has breasts and a vagina.” He rolls onto his stomach and props up on his elbows, peeking out the window. “I haven’t hooked up with you or Ensley.”

“Yeah, but only ’cause I’d never hook up with you,” Elodie says. “And Ensley never hooks up with anyone.”

“Hey,” I protest. Then I stop myself because she’s right and I shouldn’t care.

She reaches over and pats my leg. “It’s okay. We’re going to change that very soon.”

Gaige glances at me with his brow arched. “Really?”

I shake my head. “Don’t listen to her. Didn’t you hear? She’s crazy.”

“I am crazy,” she agrees, pulling out onto the road. “But you both are going to listen to me because I have some very awesome things to say. Just you wait.”

I glance at Gaige, who shrugs, equally as confused as me.

“What’re we listening to you about?” I ask, reaching for her stereo.

She smacks my hand away. “Well, for starters, you’re finally going to listen to me when I tell you to stop touching my damn radio.”

I smile sweetly at her, then reach for the knob again and turn to the rock station.

She narrows her eyes and flips it to the heavy metal station.

I flip her the bird and turn on some classic rock.

“You guys are so weird,” Gaige remarks, sitting up as we leave the school far, far behind. “Every time I ride with you, you do the same thing. The stupid thing is, you both listen to the same kinds of music.”

“Yeah, so what?” Elodie changes the channel again. “It doesn’t mean we’re just going to let the other one pick the song.”

“Picking the song is very important.” I twist the knob of the stereo again.

Elodie returns her hand to the steering wheel. “You know what? I’m going to let you win this one, but only because I’m in a really good mood.”

“Uh-oh,” Gaige says from the backseat. “She’s got that crazed, wild Banshee look in her eyes again.”

“Yes, I do, Gaige.” Elodie lets out an evil villain laugh. “And it’s the look that only comes out when I’ve come up with a brilliant idea.”

Okay, now she’s making me a little nervous.

“What’s your brilliant idea?”

She grins. “Not yet.”

She leaves us hanging in anticipation and a bit of fear. But I’m not surprised.

Elodie love drama.