email.
From me.
To me.
Before graduation, I promise to . . . do something crazy.
I blink at the screen.
A little frisson of anticipation runs up my spine. Why shouldnât I do something crazy? After all, playing by the rules hasnât gotten me anywhere.
SIX
OF COURSE, DECIDING TO DO SOMETHING crazy and actually doing something crazy are two different things. I donât even know how to begin to go about it. I suppose I could go parasailing or something, but that seems kind of lame. I mean, yeah, I know parasailing is technically probably really dangerous, but your odds of dying from it arenât even that good, which definitely ruins some of the excitement.
And besides, parasailing isnât breaking the rules. And thatâs what it feels like I should doâsomething thatâs not allowed . I could always go out partying tonight with Celia and Paige and see what kind of trouble we could get into, but the thought of that kind of makes me want to poke my eyes out. Iâd probably just end up following Celia around, making sure she doesnât have so much to drink that she canât walk. My role within our little group is to make sure Celiaand Paige donât get into too much troubleâand tonight I want to be the troublemaking one.
I glance around the beach, looking for some crazy-making inspiration. And thatâs when a girl in a red-and-white-striped bikini walks by, holding a familiar-looking piece of hot-pink paper.
The guy on the beach. The one who told me his name was Don. The one who invited me to the club where he works. A club. On the beach. It sounds dangerous and forbidden. Iâll go by myself, I decide. Not with Celia and Paige.
Iâll dance. And do . . . whatever other things people do at clubs.
Once Iâve made the decision, I feel a lot better. About everythingâStanford, my parents, stupid Nathan. Everything just seems . . . like itâs going to be okay somehow.
Now I just need to find a killer outfit.
Okay, so it definitely might be a tiny bit insane that Iâm taking something so seemingly ridiculous to such an extreme level. I mean, obviously itâs normal to be disappointed about not getting into Stanford. But to suddenly decide I want to throw caution to the wind and listen to a crazy email I sent myself when I was fourteen? Yeah, itâs a little over the top.
On the other hand, anything can happen when you feel like your lifeâs work has all been for nothing. I know Iâm onlyseventeen. But going to Stanford is all Iâve ever wanted in my life . Seventeen years is a long time to want something. So it kind of makes sense that Iâm spiraling.
When I walk into the lobby of the hotel, my head is spinning. But itâs not the same kind of spinning it was doing beforeâbefore, I felt out of control, like I was losing my mind. Now Iâm spinning in a good way, like something exciting is about to happen. Itâs the same feeling you get right before you go on a roller coaster. (Not that Iâve ever been on a roller coasterâwho wants to vomit all over themselves or get stuck upside down or be involved in a fatal accident caused by faulty equipment? But if I ever had been on a roller coaster, this is how I imagine it would feel.)
I hesitate for a second at the elevator, wondering if I should go and check on Celia. But if I go to Paige and Celiaâs room, theyâre never going to let me leave. Theyâre going to ask me a million questions until they break me down.
And Iâm determined to do this. By myself.
I get in the elevator and push the button for the second floor.
Time to go back to my room and get ready to go to the club! What does one wear to a club? Definitely not what Iâm wearing now, which is my bathing suit and cover-up. And definitely not the khaki shorts and tank tops I tend to wear in the summer. Do I have anything thatâs club appropriate?
Clubbing! Iâm going