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Introverted and awkward Autumn Lyne is content with having just books as companions--that is, until her extrovert of a sister drags her out to meet her band. But nobody has expected that this would mark the plot twist her heart has...
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Friday evening arrived. It was nice of Nate to drive Clint, Clover, and me to school, but it had taken him an hour to pick us up. He was in a sour mood that evening, considering he barely replied to Clover's complaints about him being late.
By the time we arrived at around seven o'clock, the party was full of vigor. The courtyard was amazingly warm and bright. Balloon-shaped lights hung high and low from the tree branches, creating a mesmerizing canopy overhead, while string lights were wrapped around the trees. The seats and tables were covered in white silk, and flower centerpieces decorated the tables. There was a buffet, too.
"Oh my God, whoever did all this had better have been paid. This is magical," Clover gushed. She was wearing a short red dress that matched her lipstick, and her blonde hair was styled in beautiful waves. Clint hadn't taken his eyes off her since we had left home.
"Agreed," he said. His eyes swept over the area before he snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. "Everything looks good tonight, but you look so much better."
Clover giggled and hit his shoulder.
"Oh, God," I muttered, turning away from them. Nate made a face and quickly suggested looking for a table.
On the way, I met some of my colleagues from the Westside Chronicle. Manuela Jackson, our sportswriter and a member of the theatre club, and Kahil Murillo, our Editor-in-Chief. They returned a friendly greeting, and I felt like my world had gotten a little bigger.
We found an empty round table on the far side of the courtyard and discussed our summer plans until a loud, peppy voice interrupted us.
"Hey! How's the night so far?"
We all turned our heads toward Rose, who was strutting to our table and waving her hand. There was a collective pause in the group.
"What?" she asked.
"Why the hell are you dressed like that? Whose funeral are you attending?" Nate exclaimed, wildly gesticulating at her getup: a short-sleeved corset, a three-tiered tail skirt, a mini top hat with feathers, lace tights, short boots, and some elaborate accessories. Everything was black.
Rose put her hands on her hips. "Could be yours, Nate, if you kept mocking my dress."
"Yeah. Don't go judging people's outfits when you're dressed exactly like Mr. Bean," Clover said with a snort. Nate threw his hands up in surrender, fed up with her jokes. She had laughed for a full two minutes when she had seen his all-brown outfit for the first time.
"Anyway, why are you guys sitting here? Let's go dance!" Rose made a little shake of her body.
"It's such a drag," Nate replied with an exasperated sigh.
"What's the matter with you? How many bags of salt did you eat tonight?"
"His date bailed on him at the last minute," Clover said.
