Jennifer Dugan

Everybody seems to think the summer after your senior year is the stuff of legends. That it’s two months of pure teenage bliss or something. It’s almost as if there’s this big conspiracy surrounding it, like, sure, kid, throw your cap in the air, cue up that hit pop song you will definitely hate by fall, and then you, too, will be guaranteed the most epic summer of your life. I mean, we all know that’s not how it actually goes down, right?

I mean, it’s not that I hate Jessa or anything. You pretty much can’t. She’s perfect; totally, utterly, 100 percent perfect. She’s sweet and kind, and disgustingly beautiful.

I mean, it’s not that I hate Jessa or anything. You pretty much can’t. She’s perfect; totally, utterly, 100 percent perfect. She’s sweet and kind, and disgustingly beautiful.

I shift from foot to foot and kind of half shrug. “I’m not too big for this town, Dad. I never will be.”

He smiles. “Can I get that in writing?”

“Oh my god. Do you want it notarized too?”

“I happen to know a great notary, actually.” He adjusts the certificate on his desk, a smug look crossing his face.

“You’re such a dork.”

Seeley: She’s obsessed with Superman.

Me: Perfect! You love Captain America!

Seeley: Exactly! She’s DC! I’m Marvel! It would never work

I am the least smooth thing of all the things in existence. It’s like the world doesn’t need sandpaper or rocky outcrops or tree bark anymore, because, hi, I exist to serve all of your unsmooth needs.

Seeley tilts her head as she turns back to me. “Books are interesting, Lou. The evolution of mankind is interesting. The way people utilize social media to subtly manipulate the reality of their lives is interesting. Nick Mulholland is not that interesting.”

Okay, that means I should probably knock, but I’m not going to. I mean, making poor life choices is kind of my specialty, and as my best friend, she should pretty much expect this already.

“To everybody else, I’m just background noise, like a water fountain or a slamming locker or something.”

Seeley frowns. “That’s not true.”

“It is. The only time people notice me is when I mess up or do something weird or say the wrong thing.

Awesome, Elouise. What a super compelling mature argument you just made. I’m sure he’ll definitely take you seriously now. Ten out of ten would recommend this approach. I sigh