closet you can walk into,and pulled out a pair of skinny jeans and a long-sleeved transparent top. I brought them over to the computer so she could see them. âHow about this? Iâd wear a tank underneath, of course, and boots.â
âItâs going to be hot tomorrow,â she said.
âSo? Thereâll be air-conditioning.â
âYouâre lucky. My stupid school doesnât have air-conditioning. Or a pool. Or a library. Or anything good.â
âI wish you could go to Coral Tree with me.â
âYeah.â A couple of years ago, I talked Heather into asking her parents if she could transfer there. They couldnât afford the tuition, but I thought maybe she could get financial aid. But the school rejected her application before money even got discussed. Heather said it was because she hadnât gotten very good scores on the private school entrance exams. âBut itâs probably just as well,â she said now. âEveryoneâs so smart there. Iâd be at the bottom of the class.â
âYouâre a lot smarter than you think you are. And definitely a lot smarter than most of the kids I know there.â I studied the outfit. âI donât know . . . should I go more summery? I have this new Alice and Olivia dress. . . .â
Heather wanted to see it, so I got it out and showed her. It was a simple yellow shift dress with a seventies kind of vibe.
âWow,â she said. âYouâd look amazing in that.â
âYou donât think itâs too dressy?â
âWear it,â she said firmly. âItâs the last first day of high school ever. Thatâs huge.â
I got a lot of compliments on my dress at school on Tuesday. Also a lot of compliments on my hair. And on my brilliant comments in class. And on my smile and my shoes and my makeup and my car and my bag and, well, you can pretty much name it, and someone was complimenting me on it.
A new school year. The same old pattern.
I realized years earlier that I could be annoyed by the fact that people were so desperate to be my friend that theyâd say anything to make me like them, or I could just shrug it off. I chose to shrug it off. It wasnât malicious and might not even have been entirely conscious; they just couldnât separate me from my connection to Luke Weston.
So I accepted the compliments without believing them and tried to use my social power for good. I wouldnât be friends with anyone who was mean or cliquish and I rallied people to join the Gay-Straight Alliance and Diversity Council and things like that. Teachers called me a ânatural leader,â which only made me realize that the adults were as likely to fawn over me as the kids were. It didnât go to my head: I knew people werenât following me because I was so wildly charismatic; theywere following me because I was Luke Westonâs stepdaughter and they all wanted to meet him.
I was most proud of having increased student participation in the Holiday-Giving Program by like tenfold or something ridiculous like that. My freshman year, I signed up to help out with the annual Christmas party at the shelter our school supported, and my closest friends all signed up too. Then the next year, I volunteered to head the gift drive, and got Riley to do it with meâof all my school friends, she was the most organized and reliable.
Luke and Mom came with me to that yearâs Christmas party, which totally freaked people outâeveryone who went was giddy with delight at being at the same event as Luke Weston, and everyone who didnât go regretted it. Junior year, I ran the Christmas party and everyone assumed Luke would show up, so literally half the school signed up to bring presents and help out with games for the kids. Luke actually didnât come that yearâhe was in Chicago, shooting a remote segment for the showâbut with all the help and donations, we