It was the crumb-covered, greasy-haired original, complete with scowl. But as soon as he saw that Vanessa was with me, he brushed off his shirt and did his best to spike his hair. It wasn’t enough. “What did you do to all my hard work?” cried Vanessa. “I—I . . . My aunt doesn’t like the new me,” he stammered, backing away. At the look on V’s face, I would’ve been terrified too. “She saw the clothes and the hair and figured I was up to something.” “Well, you are,” I said, entering the house. “You’re trying to convince people you aren’t some slimy jerk.” “It looks like I got here just in time,” Vanessa added, following me in with a tote bag slung over one shoulder. She pulled out an empty spray bottle and held it up. “Do you have a bathroom where I can fill this?” Ryan pointed down the hall, and as soon as V walked away, he whirled around to face me. “What is she doing here?” he asked in a harsh whisper. “This is a dress rehearsal for Berkeley’s get-together,”
