Maya Rodale - Alice and Gabbys Excellent Adventure

Gabby

Lockhart Academy

Connecticut, 2019

Stans parents were out of town, so the place was mobbed with students dancing too loud, thumping music, lounging on the furniture, hanging out in the kitchen or playing a big game of beer pong in the back yard. Everyone had come out to celebrate Lockhart Academys hockey team winning their first game of the seasoneveryone. Even the nobodies, nerds and geeks were there, along with the jocks, the pretty girls and everybody in between.

I knew this night was one of those special nights. I was wrong about why.

I pushed my way through the crowd, looking for Stanmy boyfriend and captain of the Lockhart hockey team. He was a day student, while I boarded. In the living room, I warned a drunk girl away from a dumb jock, Joe, picked up a chair thatd fallen over, and then I ran into my bestie, Becks, in the kitchen. She was easy to spot in a crowd because she always wore pink.

Wed been best friends ever since we were assigned to be roommates freshman year. Wed hit it off right away, bonding over a love of Instagram and reality TV shows. She was, more often than not, my better judgment.

For example:

Gabby, remember your poetry midterm tomorrow, Becks reminded me as I reached for another beer out of the fridge stocked with as many racks of Natty Lite that could fit between Stans moms diet shakes. I thought Natty Lite was pretty gross, but I drank it anyway. Guys were impressed by it.

I know, I know.

Ugh, that poetry midterm. Ugh, that poetry class. Professor Swinton was totally out to get me. I was only taking it because I needed an English Lit requirement to graduate and I figured the reading wouldnt be that demanding. As far as I was concerned, I was going to be a fashion designer, and the only thing I needed to read was the latest issue of Vogue.

Did you even study? Becks asked, folding her arms over her chest and giving me a look. Honestly, I didnt know why she bothered to ask. We lived together, so she saw I didnt study. And she knew me.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ned the NerdId been calling him that since freshman year, when Id stumbled on his robotics team meet-up in the dorm common room. Tonight, he was leaning against the kitchen counter, all long and lanky and nerdy with his thick black-framed glasses and plaid shirt, sipping a beer. I caught him wincing after each sip, like he hadnt acquired the taste yet. These days, he was the guy who lived in the dorm room across the hall from ours, and we only interacted when I couldnt figure out how to program the DVR or when my laptop froze.

Well, except for that one time

I got embarrassed every time I thought about that night.

Our eyes met. He was checking me out. Guys often did, but for some unfathomable reason it made me feel weird when Ned did it. Maybe because he tried so hard to disguise it, like he didnt want me or anyone to know he thought I was hot. Whatever. What did I care if some nerd wasnt into me?

The thing was, I hung out with the jocks and pretty people, and he was a nerd, and never the two shall meet. Or something. We operated in different worlds and had nothing in common.

Besides, I was sure he thought I was too dumb for him, just because I was tall, blonde, and had thousands of followers on Instagram and never studied for poetry midterms, because it didnt matter when the professor had already decided I was just a ditzy girl and graded me accordingly. Some of us didnt want to sit around inside playing video games or coding or whatever it is that nerds did.

Besides, I had a boyfriend. Stan Weller was a total hunk who had thousands of Instagram followers, thanks to his regularly posted shirtless selfies.

Becks was still frowning at me. She had her arms folded across her chest. Gabbyyou cant fail poetry!

I read the poems. I cracked open my beer and took a defiant sip.

Thats something, Becks replied sarcastically.

Itll have to be enough. Besides, Professor Swinton is totally out to get me, so it doesnt even matter. Im going to fail it.

But Gabby, what about FIT?

I doubt theyll care about my grade in Romantic poetry, honestly. But I said this uneasily. It was my dream to go to college at FITthe Fashion Institute of Technology in New York City, where Id study clothing design and live the fabulous life in the fashion capital of the world. My application was ready; I just had to rock the interview and maintain a certain GPA. Which meant I needed to pass this stupid midterm and poetry class.

But this was what extra credit was for!

Becks just sighed. And I was kind of annoyed she was bringing this up now, at a party, when I wanted to have fun and not think about the midterm I was about to fail and, like, whatever consequences it might have for the rest of my life.

Hey babe, Stan said, sliding his arm around my waist and kissing me on the lips. A welcome distraction. I hoped people were watching. I knew we looked really good together.

Hey! I couldnt find you earlier. I playfully swatted his arm. I flipped my blond hairnatural highlights, btwand smiled at my super-hot boyfriend. We werent the type to have long, soulful chats on the phone, but we definitely had fun hanging out with each other.

I was getting into trouble, he said with a grin. Were up next in beer pong, babe. Come play. Be my good-luck charm. Then he affectionately patted my butt, kissed my cheek, high-fived Greg, a teammate, clasped my hand and tugged me toward the direction of the deck, where the game was set up. Someone had strung up Christmas lights, and it looked really cool.

Well, Im going to make a smart life choice and head back to the dorm, Becks said, giving me another pointed look with her big brown eyes. Come with.

I knew I should go.

Stan was tugging my hand. Beer pong and hooking up would be fun. I lived for fun. I shrugged and grinned sheepishly. I have to be his good-luck charm.

Gabrielle Christina Fox.

Rebecca Jane Bennett, you know I hate when people use my full name.

I just think you should at least not get wasted the night before your poetry midterm, Becks said. And then, opening the question up to the room at large, she asked in a loud voice, Amirite? Can we all agree on that?

Oh, gawd.

I looked around to see if people were agreeing with her. My gaze fell to Ned, leaning against the kitchen counter, beer can dangling from his fingertips, and OMG, who was the Goth girl he was standing with? Id never seen her around campus, and I knew everyone on campus.

She wore black from head to toeboots, leggings and a very boho-chic flowing black tunic. Her hair was cut into a black bob with bangs, a style made all the more striking given her pale skin and vampy red lips. Her black liquid liner was expertly applied, and that wasnt a skill most people possessed. I admit I was impressed.

I guess its a question of priorities and what matters in life, isnt it? Goth girl mused, blinking those black-winged eyes. She tilted her head, and I thought I saw bits of glitter in her hair. You never know which little choices can profoundly change the direction of your life, she said while examining her red nail polish.