“And I thought Avery was bad news,” Cadence mumbled.
Avery. She hadn’t talk to her in a week, not after the student union episode. She did sneak a peek at Mark’s cell phone when he was in the shower the other night and discovered a text thread between him and Avery. It wasn’t long. She just told him where Cadence was on two occasions and he replied with a “thanks” both times.
“Avery,” Carrie echoed. “That chick Michael and I met at lunch a while back?”
Cadence nodded.
“I don’t think she likes me very much,” Carrie said. She plugged in her curling iron and grabbed her makeup bag.
“She thinks you’re a bad influence,” Cadence replied, plopping down on Carrie’s bed.
“Nope. Get up. You’re sitting here where the curling iron will reach.” Carrie stood up and offered her desk chair to Cadence. “And I am a bad influence.”
Cadence smiled. “It’s so ridiculous. Avery’s the one who sought me out last year to be ‘friends’—” She put “friends” in air quotes. “—just so that she could use me as a cover for sneaking around with her boyfriend.”
“Oooo, this I gotta hear,” Carrie said, opening her makeup bag and grabbing a brush. She swirled it in mineral foundation and applied it to Cadence’s face like she was buffing scratches out of a car.
“I went along with it because I wanted a reason to sneak out of my house, too. I told you all about my juvie stint and subsequent lockdown at home,” Cadence replied.
“Oh, yeah. I remember.”
“Anyway, we used each other as alibis. I admit I stopped feeling guilty about it after the first few times, so I’m not suggesting I’m a better person than her or anything. I’m not judging her. She can do whatever the hell she wants to do for all I care.”
Carrie suppressed the urge to grin. Cadence was obviously pissed off, so she had a hard time taking her seriously. Mostly because Cadence was usually sweet, so this other girl appeared almost exaggerated—a caricature.
“Anyway, she’s got some nerve saying you’re a bad influence. And I don’t even know where she’s getting that. So what that I go to parties with you? What’s the big deal?”
Carrie swept blush on Cadence’s cheeks. “She’s just jealous. She doesn’t want you hanging out with another girl.”
“Why? That’s stupid. I can have more than one friend.”
“Not with some chicks you can’t. They get uber jealous. Sounds like Avery is one of them.”
Cadence scowled.
“Hey, don’t do that,” Carrie said, swiping shadow on her friend’s eyelids. “I’m totally doing this whole purple and shimmery gray thing with your eyes. It’s gonna look fantastic.”
“If you say so,” Cadence replied. She preferred to do her own makeup, but Carrie insisted. She gave in, knowing she’d wash her face and redo her entire look if she looked like a clown or whore after Carrie was finished with her.
“You’re Avery’s only friend,” Carrie went on, carefully tracing a black line over the edge of Cadence’s upper eyelid. “It’s natural she’d want you all to herself.”
“So she talks shit about you to me? That’s supposed to make me wanna only hang out with her?” Cadence asked.
“Hold up. What shit is she talking?” Carrie asked, the liner pencil poised in her hand below Cadence’s eye.
“Well, she called you a yahoo and said you weren’t trustworthy.”
“Fucking. Twat,” Carrie replied. “First off, I don’t even know what a yahoo is. Second, what does she know about me being trustworthy or not?”
Cadence shrugged.
“Whatever,” Carrie said dismissively. She went back to work on Cadence’s eyes. “You can hang out with whoever you want. And I’m not a horrible person.”
“I don’t think you’re a horrible person,” Cadence replied.
That was true. She thought Carrie was like any other normal college girl. She went to class like she was supposed to. She studied when she needed to. She partied when she had the opportunity.
“Lots of hot guys hang out at this club we’re going to,” Carrie said. And the subject changed just like that—something Cadence really liked about Carrie. She didn’t seem to let too many things bother her. She got “fucking twat” out of the way and then was ready to move on from discussing anything that had to do with Avery. Cadence was more than fine with that. She was ready to party tonight.
Carrie finished applying mascara and then stood back to examine her work.
“Cadence, you could be a model,” she said after a moment.
“Really?”
“Look for yourself.”
Cadence turned to the small mirror hanging over Carrie’s desk. She studied her eyes, the way they shimmered and popped. Carrie did one hell of a job on her, and she felt beautiful—perhaps for the first time in her life. She no longer felt like the girl next door. She felt like she’d graduated to the “beautiful people” category.
“And now for the hair,” Carrie said, wiggling her eyebrows. “I’m warning you now. I’m from Texas.”