Free You Before Anyone Else by Julie Cross and Mark Perini

do.”
    It’s amazing how quickly Elana’s accent is fading. I mean, I’ve heard that happens, especially with younger people, but by the end of the summer, no one will even know she’s from France.
    â€œEnough calorie talk,” Summer says. “Finley needs an intervention. We gotta talk her out of adopting the freeloader guy from the party.”
    â€œNo, we need to go back to our Vampire Diaries episode,” I try. “Toby Rhinehart guest-starred this week.”
    â€œToby Rhinehart is an overrated, overpaid, photoshopped pretty boy with way too many fucking kids,” Summer rattles off.
    â€œDon’t even…” I fake gasp, wishing for this debate instead of the Eddie intervention. I shouldn’t have brought him up.
    â€œEddie,” Elana inserts. No help at all. Thanks. “His name is Eddie.”
    Summer waves a hand to stop her. “Don’t give him a name. For Finley, that’s like the starving kids in those commercials begging to be sponsored for pennies a day.”
    Okay, so I left out the part about Eddie being Edward James Wellington IV when I filled my roommates in on the balcony incident. Eddie seemed so committed to his new identity that I kind of feel committed to it as well. Which is really weird. He’s the one taking advantage of me—well, of my balcony and my omelet-making skills.
    â€œI caught him. He’s not sleeping on your vitamin D chair anymore. It’s a big building. I probably won’t see him ever again,” I say, using my most convincing tone.
    Summer rolls her eyes. “That’s what everyone says after they feed a stray cat.”
    â€œHe’s lucky my mom didn’t catch him,” Elana adds.
    The three of us sit in silence for several moments. No one can disagree with that. French Mama is scary.
    â€œHow was the sex?” Summer blurts out.
    â€œWhy?” My face heats up. I glance at Elana, whose dark eyes are wide with interest. “Maybe now isn’t the time—”
    â€œGive me a break. Jesus, the girl is hardly innocent.” She gives Elana a one-second glance.
    Elana’s expression stiffens, but she says nothing. Smart girl. She’s figured out Summer’s need to get that big reaction out of people.
    Summer stands and brushes the crumbs off her designer loungewear. Yep, she and Eddie have nothing in common. She turns her attention from Elana to me. “I wasn’t asking for a play-by-play, just a one-word answer.”
    My cheeks warm even more. “Good.”
    â€œGood?” she repeats. This seems to stump her. The front door opens, and Summer perks up. “I’m gonna stop her before any fish is cooked. What the hell is wrong with chicken?”
    Elana and I are left alone in Summer’s room. I look Elana over carefully. She’s had a rough year—one deserving of its own story—and Summer dug up that dirt, tossed it right on the floor in front of us. That can’t be easy for Elana. “Hey…you okay?”
    She picks at a loose thread on the comforter. “Yeah, it’s just weird. Being back here. Especially with Alex and Eve…”
    A big part of Elana’s drama last year involved a fake relationship with Alex that landed them a big CK gig. I did that Calvin Klein shoot too, and Eve was the photographer’s assistant. When all that drama went down, Alex and Eve got worried about Elana and decided to get French Mama involved—Elana had been in America under the supervision of our modeling agency. Which basically means no supervision. Something Alex and Eve deemed problematic, to put it politely. So basically, it’s their fault Elana is being tortured by her mother.
    â€œThey’re in Europe right now,” I point out. “For a couple weeks, I think.”
    Elana nods. “I know.”
    Elana’s mom calls her into the kitchen. She jumps up immediately. After she’s gone, I return to