Page 25 of Love and Other Chances

LaLaaaa—we all know you have zero poker face

LANA

Rude

AMAYA

She’s right

LANA

Double rude

This is why I told Bailey to let me give you a heads-up first. Now your reaction won’t be so raw

LANA

Fine

And you too Madame President. We all know how much you wanted a repeat homecoming win senior year just to rub it in Bailey’s face

AMAYA

Hey! I wanted to win to prove that AOPi was the best

. . .

AMAYA

Fine. Maybe also to stick it to Bailey just a little. ok, I promise I’ll be nice

Good. I think she’s genuinely sorry andneeds some friends

LANA

You’re right, Teegs—we all could have done a better job at trying to befriend Bailey instead of letting her get under our skin so much

AMAYA

I’m willing to wipe the slate clean. We all made immature mistakes, and we can all do better

Well said. This is why I love you both so much. One of so many reasons

Chapter eleven

October sweeps in, carrying a breath of anticipation. Crisp mornings promise hope of hoodie season. The first changing leaves whisper of the vibrant colors that will soon paint the town. Campfire scent lingering in the evening air assures the return of all things cozy.

Every year on the first Friday of October, the city of Brooklyn hosts a fall festival in Center Square. College students and town residents alike flood the retail-area-turned-autumn-wonderland for a festive evening of pumpkins, photo ops, local shopping, and apple everything.

This year, I’m attending the festival along with the freshman Bible study group that Sofia is part of. Parking is always sparse, so I planned to pick up Sofia and three other girls to carpool.

I spend extra time curling gentle waves into my hair before assembling my perfect fall outfit: cream sweater, plaid skirt, and sheer black tights. I debate for a while between wedge booties or knee-high boots, finally settling on the latter.

Checking my reflection in the mirror, I instantly feel happier. “Welcome back, fall fashion,” I say out loud. “I’ve missed you.”

Making the carpool rounds, my car gets louder and more enthusiastic with each passenger added. We arrive at Center Square, where I quickly find a tight parallel parking spot that everyone else was apparently too intimidated to take. Sofia applauds as I whip into the space.

“Lana would never,” Sofia jokes.

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