Page 1 of Fashionista's Playbook

PROLOGUE

(7 Years Earlier)

The excitement in her chest bubbled out in a feathery giggle as Steven Holt, Grissom High School’s star quarterback, leaned into the open limo door.

“Ready, Moriah?”

She nodded, taking the hand he offered and stepping from the car. Behind him, her older sister rocked from one dainty high heel to the other, looking more uncomfortable by the second.

“Steven, maybe this is a bad idea.” She tugged on her boyfriend’s arm until he released Moriah’s hand.

Elise had been weird all day, even at the salon where they’d had their hair done. They’d gotten along so great the past few weeks, then today—iceberg.

She probably just thinks Steven likes you.

“Nah,” he tucked her under his arm and kissed her hard on the lips.

Moriah’s tiny flicker of jealousy disappeared when his friend Jonathan took her by the hand and pulled her close. These guys were the popular kids. She’d always wanted to be here.

At least that’s what she kept telling herself.

The extra attention from Steven and his friends had been nice, spending quality time with her sister even better.

“Elise, I’m not a prude.” Moriah gave a dramatic roll of her eyes.

Jonathan had snagged some weed, and they were sneaking off to the other side of the gym to smoke it before going into prom.

Elise’s lips went tight, but she walked with the group following the sidewalk to the other side of the building. Jonathan lit the cigar-wrapped marijuana and coughed with hisfirst toke. Disinterested in the drugs and trying to keep her thoughts on the matter to herself, Moriah gazed up at the stars.

She’d dreamed of nights like this. Jonathan held out the blunt, and she shook her head. “No thanks.”

“Come on, it’s a party.” He coaxed.

“Ourparty!” Steven, small liquor bottle in his hand, howled toward the moon as all the other guys shouted and danced around. A few of the other girls laughed, but most seemed on edge like Elise.

“To Pigmo!” Jonathan hooted, making what could only be described as drunken, snorting warthog noises as the rest of the guys joined in.

Elise took the bottle and slammed half of it before Steven could get it back from her. The tension between them made Moriah uncomfortable, so she stepped away from the group. Jonathan and another one of the football players pulled her back, spinning around and dancing.

She tried to smile, to enjoy herself. This was where she wanted to be, had always wanted to be. A part of Elise’s world, important to the popular people. The past few months had been her happiest. They’d taken her to parties, put her in the group chat, made her feel important.

Moriah was even in on their joke. The alternate mascot, the Pigmo…so much more fun than the Warthog. The guys got a kick out of it. Seniors, their last year, they were allowed some silliness.

Even if it meant getting drunk and oinking at the stars.

Even if Moriah didn’t understand any of it.

Moriah, breathless, slipped from the merriment and caught Elise’s gaze. Her older, prettier sister, usually had her nose up in the air—too good for shenanigans. Only now, she looked wrong. Her makeup too dark, her eyes too bright. Like she’d been trying to cover up tears.

“Elise…” Moriah went to her, reached out.

“You don’t belong here.” Elise hissed under her breath. “You should go home.”

The words hit Moriah with such animosity that she stumbled back. “What did I do?”

Elise’s eyes shimmered, and she opened her mouth to speak but stopped when Steven approached.

“Ladies, this is apar-tay. It’s prom, let’s do this!”

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