On Friday night, my friends and I agreed to meet up at Aleah McLeary's housewarming party to help Amari get over her latest break-up through a good, old-fashioned girls' night out.

Aleah always threw the best ragers. She had an older sister at Harvard who never failed to secure fuckloads of alcohol for our underage asses. The McLeary's new lake house was a castle-sized version of a French Country cottage. It sat on the edge of Sabrina Lake. The twenty-minute drive had taken us almost an hour because Nat drove like a seventy-year-old grandma. We also experienced a minor mishap with some coffee spillage along the way, which delayed us even more.

Amari arrived earlier with another friend, and she had been messaging us nonstop for our ETA. I could tell her texts were making Nat anxious. My girl hated being late. Her normally pale, freckled cheeks were flushed, and she kept flicking her thumb against her pointer finger in a very compulsive manner. A telltale sign that she was stressed as fuck.

Around 10:00 pm, we finally arrived. Nat and I jumped out of her Kia Rio. As we rushed towards Aleah's house to find Amari, I not only heard but felt the heavy bass vibrating through my chest. The property was located in an upscale waterfront community, but it looked more like a decimated frat house in its current state. Plastic red cups were strewn all over the lawn. Kids were drinking, vaping, and making out all around us. Hunter and Frankie were belting out an off-key rendition of the Ashton Wellesley fight song as they peed into some bushes. I made a face. Some real classy shit right there.

Frankie saw me and leered over the foliage, "Like what you see, bitch?"

"Too small for my taste," I fired back.

The two assholes zipped up their pants and sauntered over to us. Nat ducked behind me as they approached.

Hunter had on a pair of black heavy-rimmed Tom Ford frames, and his Vineyard Vines button down shirt was tucked neatly into his beige khakis. Frankie was taller than Hunter. Frankie wasn't ugly, but, as the sole heir of a massive real estate fortune, he had a piggishly privileged aura, which felt off-putting even by Ashton Wellesley's standards. His arrogance clung to him like maggots on dog feces.

Frankie was also dressed in a Vineyard Vines button down tucked into khakis, and his overly gelled, side swept dark blonde hair was cut long on top and shaved close to the scalp at the sides. Combined they looked like picture perfect prototypes for the next generation of one-percenters.

"Don't flatter yourself, Donati," Frankie drawled in a nasty voice. "Any guy who ends up fucking you would regret it. Instantly. I bet you have fangs growing down there instead of—"

Nat popped her head out from my shoulder and interrupted with a brave squeak, "Leave her alone, Frankie!"

"Shut up, fatty!" Hunter shouted scornfully. "I can't even tell where your tits end and your ass begins."

Nat retreated behind me with a wail.

To me, Hunter directed, "I can't believe you pulled that shit on me the other day in class. You know everyone at school can barely stand you, right? You're lucky you're hot. How did you convince Tilton to do your bidding? Did you fuck him or something?"

"You can go choke on glass," I suggested while jabbing my finger aggressively in Hunter's face. Then, I turned to Frankie and sneered, "And I hope your dick falls off. As a public service to the global female population."

I tugged on Nat's arm and started pulling her away. "Come on, we gotta go find Amari! These shitheads have wasted enough of our time."

Amari was waiting for us near the driveway. She had large brown eyes. Bold, angular features and a defined jawline. Her black hair was coiffed in a short French bob, and she was looking badass as always in a champagne-colored asymmetrical Vivienne Westwood minidress. The pale gold looked amazing against her brown skin.

Amari lit up when she saw us. "You losers finally made it! Took you long enough."

"Hey, bish," I said while blowing her an air kiss.

Amari blew one back. "Hey, you."

"Sorry about being late, Riri," Nat began explaining. "Traffic was a bitch, then we ran into Hunter and Frankie, and I spilled—"

Amari noticed Nat's new hair and lost interest in what she was saying. "Oh-em-gee, I'm living for your look, Nat! You beautiful fucking mermaid, you!"

Nat had been born with a gorgeous head of coppery red hair, but she liked to shake things up every couple of months or so, and, Amari was right, this time, my girl had really outdone herself with a stunning lavender, pink, and teal ombre dye job. The loose waves flowed down to her waist like a pastel rainbow.

Before Nat could even respond, though, Amari had bounced off to another topic. "I'm so glad you guys are finally here! I just caught Archie flirting with Allie Reeves by the lake. He knows I was going to be here tonight with you guys, like, what the fuck is he thinking?"

Nat's brow wrinkled as she asked, "Why do you care? I thought you ended things with him last Tuesday."

Amari scoffed. "I did end things with Archie last Tuesday, but that doesn't give him permission to mess around while we're on a break!"

I gave Amari a suspicious look. "Are you thinking about getting back together?"

Amari's lips twitched coyly. "We-ell... I wasn't planning on it, but then I found out from Brock and Eli that Archie asked them to help him pick out an anniversary gift for me. Custom engraved. From Tiffany's. He was planning to give it to me next month, and those things are usually non-refundable, so, really, I feel like taking him back and going on a couple more dates is the least I can do to help him out."

Nat rolled her eyes. "Bish, sounds like you want something sparkly from Tiffany's more than you wanna keep fucking Archie."

I laughed. "Ignore her judgy ass, Riri, you do you. Just don't put out unless he throws in a pair of diamond studs as well!"

Amari stuck her tongue out at us. "Fuck you, Nat! Fuck you, too, Cate! What would single assholes like you know about matters of the heart?"

Nat and I turned to each other and entwined our hands like lovers.

Eyes brimming with emotion, I murmured to Nat, "Who needs love when we have each other?"

Nat whispered back breathlessly, "And who needs dick when Cate's got bigger balls than Mr. Tilton and Hunter combined?"

I grinned. "That's right, no one's gonna mess with you as long as I'm around!"

Nat sighed dramatically. "My hero."

Amari started to gag. "Ugh! Get a room, losers!"

Nat and I burst into a fit of giggles. Just for the heck of it, we continued to annoy Amari all the way to Aleah's front door. Up until this point, Amari hadn't been paying much attention to what I was wearing. Once we were standing under the glow of the porch lights, however, she took one look at my outfit and, instantly, her disapproval sucked all the fun out of the moment.

I scrambled to stand in a way that might make baggy sweatpants look more effortlessly intentional and less out of place at a party that was brimming with designer shoes and handbags.

Of all the spoiled bitches that attended to Ashton Wellesley, Amari possessed a relatively easy-going, blasé outlook on life, especially compared to Nat's OCD tendencies and my take-no-prisoners attitude towards, well, everything, but fashion was her one vice, and fashion done badly got under her skin like nothing else.

By the time Amari's glare dragged across my oversized hoodie, I could tell she wanted to burn every article of clothing and drag me into her closet for an extreme makeover.

She shook her head in exasperation. "What the hell, Cate! Why are you wearing pants that don't fit? Again? You've got your mama's face and her curves. I can't believe you're wasting them over stupid bullshit ideas about how looking good is anti-feminist—"

Nat rushed to my defense. "Chill out, Amari, it's my fault! I accidentally spilled coffee on Cate's dress while we were driving up here, so she had to change into my gym clothes kinda last minute. The pants and the hoodie were, um... the only things in my trunk that could fit her."

"Yeah, I consider it a happy accident," I chimed in. "This is way more practical than a dress! Now, as your designated driver for the night, I've got enough pockets to guard your phones in case you wanna drunk dial an ex or something."

The stress lines on Amari's face began to fade once she realized my hot mess of a look wasn't due to my lack of trying or some misguided feminist agenda. She also knew how sensitive Nat felt about her chub.

Grumbling, she accepted defeat, "You get a free pass tonight, Cate, but I swear on the sacred Houses of Chanel and Dior that I'll disown you if this happens again! Have I made myself clear?"

"Like crystal!" I chirped as I nudged my friends towards the front door.

We entered Aleah's house together. Familiar smells of alcohol, cigarettes, and weed filled the air. A steady stream of old school hip hop—Biggie, Tupac, and Dre—blasted from surround sound speakers in the ceiling, and I immediately collided into a sea of sweaty bodies that were writhing and grinding fiercely to the music.

Amari pulled us close and shouted, "Let's grab some drinks!"

I nodded in agreement, wincing at my newly busted eardrum. We started shoving our way across the dance floor and noticed Bea and two of her friends, Chloe Bell and Madison Harper, standing a few feet away. Once they spotted us, I groaned inwardly. After facing off with Hunter and Frankie earlier, I wasn't in the mood to deal with more drama.

Chloe, the leggy string-bean blonde, was the first to greet us with an acrid smile. She gushed loudly to Nat, "Love the new hair, Natalia! It makes you look thinner."

Madison, the shorter brunette with a face full of flawlessly applied makeup, immediately went for Nat's jugular, "I know, right? Your dress looks two sizes too small, but you don't even care! I wish I had your confidence about my body, Natalia."

Nat turned bright red and looked like she was on the verge of tears.

I glared and swiped back at Chloe, "At least, Nat's parents didn't have to buy her a brand new face!"

Chloe shot me a dirty look as she touched her nose self-consciously. "Oh! My! God! Cate! I've told you a million times, those surgeries were for my allergies!"

Madison came to her friend's aid. She placed a hand on Amari's arm and said maliciously, "By the way, if you were looking for Archie, I saw him hanging all over Allie by the lake."

Ignoring Madison completely, Amari didn't bother to acknowledge the girl's remark. She simply gestured for Nat and me to follow her. "Let's get outta here. These bitches are bad news."

Amari and Nat made their escape first. As I was about to trail after them, my half-sister moved forward to block my way. Apple-cheeked, angel-faced Bea was wearing a short flirty dress from Reformation paired with nude Louboutin's. Standing next to her blonde, blue-eyed perfection made me feel awkward as fuck in Nat's ill-fitting clothes. She eyed my hoodie and sweatpants with predatory interest.

Leaning over, she said scathingly, "This is a depressing look even for you, Cate. Just stop trying. Why don't you go powder your nose, chug a bottle of Dom, and call it a day like your mama?"

Her words stung like acid, but I'd sooner take a shot of bleach before letting my half-sister know she hurt me. Through gritted teeth, I said, "The dead mom jokes are getting old. Do me a favor, Bea, and go drown in a lake. There's one right outside. It'd make the world a better place!"

Bea smiled like a saint, but the words that dripped off her tongue were vile. "Fuck you and your fucking whore of a mother."

Feigning indifference, I flipped her off over my shoulder and headed after my friends. These were the types of assholes and bitches who inhabited my world. They were exhausting, insipid, and vicious. Most of the time, I felt like I was just as despicable as the rest of them. If not even more fucked up.