Page 1 of The Assist
Prologue
Blair
Three Years Ago
“Who run the world?”Gabby and I scream the lyrics at the top of our lungs. Top down on her cherry-red convertible, music blaring, hair blowing across our faces, we pull out of the high school parking lot with the first day of classes behind us.
“One more year, Blair. One more freaking year, and we’re out of this place,” she says when Beyoncé stops singing.
“You don’t think you’ll miss it? Even a little bit?”
She shoots me a look that questions my sanity. “No. We’re going to Valley U, we’re going to study hard, party our asses off, and then, when we graduate, we’re going to start some fabulous female only business and end up on the cover ofForbesorVanityFair. You and I are meant for more than Suck Hill.”
Her enthusiasm is contagious. I want all those things, truly, but it’s Gabby who is counting down the days until we can leave our small town of Succulent Hill, which Gabs lovingly renamed Suck Hill. I’ve always liked the community and friendliness of living in our hometown. Not Gabby. She’s been dreaming of moving to Valley and attending the university there since we were in middle school.
Bringing the car to a halt at the four-way stop just outside of our neighborhood, she turns the radio down. There aren’t any other cars as far as the eye can see, but we continue to idle in place. I meet her serious gaze. “What’s wrong? Are we out of gas again or something?”
“Promise me we’re getting out of this town.”
I laugh off her words. “I promise.”
She grabs my wrist and pulls on the friendship bracelet I made in eighth grade. The ratty thing made of purple thread from my mother’s sewing kit still hangs on my arm. A matching one dons her wrist. It’s become a symbol of our relationship and the promises we’ve made. “I mean it, Blair. You and I are getting out of this place. We’re going to make something of ourselves. Run companies, have someone fetch us coffee, live in fabulous downtown apartments, and have brunch dates after Pilates on the weekends.”
“I know. We’ve only been talking about it forever.”
I don’t understand the sudden urgency of her words. We should be enjoying our last year and planning what we’ll wear to prom or what we’ll put in the senior time capsule. College is a year away and there’s so much to do before then.
“Swear it. Swear you’re going to do it with me.”
Gabby’s perfectly styled blonde hair blows in the breeze like a commercial for Vidal Sassoon. It’s easy for people to laugh off her ambitions as the rambling of a pretty girl whose been handed everything her entire life. Sheisbeautiful, and shehasbeen handed her share of privilege, but only I know how strong her desire to rule the world is. I don’t believe in my own dreams nearly as much as I believe in hers.
I nudge her with my elbow. “I swear, Gabs.”
My faith in myself is shaky, but I believe in Gabby, and with her by my side, I know we’re capable of anything.
Dark clouds off in the distance warn of a monsoon storm rolling in just as Gabby parks in front of her house and closes the convertible top. “Sure you don’t want to come with me tonight? Rachel’s back to school pool party is going to be epic.”
“Can’t. We’re going out to dinner to celebrate my dad’s birthday.”
Outside of the car, I breathe in the smell of rain in the distance. The wind has already picked up, and I’m looking forward to the heavy gusts and downpour that won’t be far behind. When Gabby and I were little we’d talk on the phone through storms, anxiously waiting for the puddles that would be left behind so we could splash and play before the dry desert ground soaked up all the water. I shuffle toward my house, just three houses down from Gabby’s. We’ve been neighbors our whole life, best friends too.
“You could sneak out after.” Her sea-blue eyes light up with mischief.
“No thanks. I’m not risking getting grounded two weeks before the pep rally.”
She kisses the air. “Fine, loser. I’ll text you later.”
“Later, Gabs.”
I send her a wave over my shoulder and make my way home. Thirty minutes later, I’m sitting at my desk, watching the rain trickle down the window of my second story bedroom, when I see Gabby’s car pull away from the curb. With a sigh, I pull out my history textbook and turn to the assigned reading.
If my best friend could see me now, she’d roll her eyes and call me an overachiever. I’m probably the only person sitting at home tonight instead of attending Rachel’s party. Tomorrow everyone is going to be talking about it, and all I’ll have to contribute to the conversation is the formation of the Provincial Congresses during the American Revolution.
I struggle to focus on the words as my brain tortures me with daydreams of how much fun everyone is having. Still, an hour passes and I’m almost done with the first chapter when my mom knocks on my door.
“Blair, honey.”
I stand and stretch. “Come in.”
