Free You're Invited by Jen Malone Page B

says. “This is going to be so much fun!” She holds up her hand. Vi and Sadie do the same—a group high-five. I look away because it hurts just a teeny-tiny bit that I’ve taken myself out of the group like this. It would’ve been kind of nice if my name happened to be Patricia or Pam or Petunia. Okay, maybe not Petunia. But maybe if the sign had been there, I could’ve moved some things around. Maybe.
    My phone belts out a rap song. It’s a text from Bubby.
    Party on, Lo baby!
    How Bubby already knows about RSVP, I don’t know. But I can already imagine how disappointed she’ll be when I tell her I’m not part of it.
    â€œAnd we’re going to make tons of money,” Vi says as the four of us walk down the dock. “We could make more than your mom, Sades.”
    Sadie smiles, and Vi gives her a sideways hug.
    â€œMaybe we can do another play like we did for Molly’s party, but this time I could take the role of Ryan’s girlfriend,” Becca says.
    Vi rolls her eyes. “I wonder if we should set up some kind of taste-testing with caterers? Like what Sadie’s mom does for the brides. So, you know, we’ll learn about who’s the best.”
    â€œI know who’d be the best,” Becca says. “You.”
    â€œJust think of all the trips we’ll get to make to Party Me Hearties.” Sadie has this far-off look in her eyes, like Party Me Hearties is the Six Flags of Sandpiper Beach instead of this sprawling party supplies store on the mainland with bad lighting and cranky salespeople.
    â€œThis is going to be the best summer ever!” Becca says.
    I can’t stand Party Me Hearties (I mean, that name. Really.) and want to die at the thought of having to be in a silly murder-mystery play. But . . . there’s something kind of lonely about walking behind my friends as they go on and on about this stuff. They don’t even look back at me as I climb into the parked golf cart. It’s almost like I’ve gone from best friend to fake friend to nobody in an hour.
    I try to imagine my college savings account skyrocketing as I put in hours at the marina and the size of the scholarships I’ll get when I ace the SAT. Not to mention my parents’ faces when I do all of that. It’ll totally make up for everything Josh and Zach haven’t done. And it won’t make for such a bad summer, right?
    If I ignore the little twinge in my heart when I think of my best friends having fun without me.

Becca
    Daily Love Horoscope for Scorpio:
    Keep your friends close today, and your enemies even closer.
    H istory with swishy Southern belles and romantic old plantation houses? Yes, please. History about the so-small-it’s-majorly-a-miracle-we-have-our-own-zip-code town, where I’ve lived my entire life? Snore, snore, snoozefest.
    At least Daddy’s not making me dress up in the pirate costume to give the walking tour this time because, take it from me, horizontal stripes are exactly no one’s friend. And that stuffed parrot I’m supposed to wear on my shoulder has the sharpest fake claws I’ve ever encountered.Okay, well, not like I’ve encountered a bazillion fake claws or anything, but one set is more than enough, thankyouverymuch.
    I zoom my bike through the open double doors of the Visitor’s Center and right behind the counter, even though I know this will make Daddy especially crazy. But he’s forcing me to give this tour—again—so I kind of can’t help getting back at him just a little bit.
    â€œI’m here,” I announce.
    â€œYes, I can see that,” Daddy says, not even commenting on the super-clunky handlebars that will probably hit him in the butt every time he needs to get someone change for the souvenir penny machine. He barely even gives them a passing glance when he says, “Oh, and by the way, I changed my mind about the pirate costume.”
    Um,