She struggled with her breath as did I, the pair of us on the brink of jogging. Up until now, we remained purposefully tight-lipped about the events from the party. We had no idea … Who got whose number? Who kissed whom? Did anyone get fingered by a guy? Cara must have been able to tell from the suppressed grin on my face that I’d received one of those. And I could tell by her all-teeth-baring grin that she’d make my gossip seem like child’s play. We sat on the boulders of the plant bed in the corner of the building, which had become a regular hanging spot for us long ago. “So, girlies,” Cara said nodding at the others. She turned my way giving me a personal nod. “How cray-cray was Mark’s Mask party?” “Sawyer finally kissed me.” “I got piss drunk with Sawyer’s friends and had to stay at Reneè’s or else my mum would have murdered me.” Some chuckles. Cara batted her eyelashes, hoping we’d all commence screaming. I poked her shoulder to tempt her to spill, but she held strong through the other girls explaining every sordid detail about that one perfect kiss and all that alcohol.
