"I still don't think I should be here," I said as I gazed up at the Halloween decoration.

We were all decked out to go. Sunday had gone all out with her costume, and just as all out with mine. She had transformed us both into skeleton brides, with her dressed in a ripped-up version of a scene girl outfit and me in a trailing, elaborate dress; and she had painted our faces as stunningly realistic skulls. Beside us Dan looked almost comically out of place in his cheap off-the-rack zombie costume.

"C'mon," Sunday replied, throwing an arm around my shoulders and pulling me along. "Just forget about it, girl, Brandon's never gonna find out! Let's go and have fun!"

I looked at Dan, still hesitating. Part of me hoped he could somehow come up with an excuse for me, but he only gave me a thumbs-up. "You look fine," he said. "You can stay on the sidelines if you don't wanna be the center of attention, but don't let your shitty not-even-a-boyfriend tell you not to have fun. Got it?"

I sighed. Of course he would've said that.

I took a deep breath.

Really, how had it ever come to this in the first place?

~ ~ ~

"You got Sunday invited to the party," I'd said to Felicia the other day, after finding out the news.

Felicia had looked up from where she'd been about to pop a strawberry into her perfectly red, lip-glossed mouth. "Can't prove I did," she said and ate it anyway.

"Then who did?" I asked, slumping forward on the table. The two of us were alone for the moment, with Chelsea in the bathroom and Louie having wandered off to get dessert. "I…look, I get that you want me to go to this party, but…I don't know. I mean, I know that I should know, but I really don't know. You know?"

Felicia popped another strawberry into her mouth. "No."

"…okay." I smiled sheepishly in defeat. "Still…why not just let me celebrate with Sunday and Dan? I don't have to go to any big parties, right?"

Felicia pursed her lips. "Maybe," she admitted. "But, you know—I wouldn't have gone this far if you'd just told me you didn't wanna go."

I blinked.

"But I—"

"I know, I know. You kept making excuses, and saying you couldn't, and your parents didn't want you to, and Sunday needed you there, I know. Girl, I was there." She rolled her eyes. "But you know what you never said?"

"What?" I asked automatically, and rather stupidly, since the answer was obvious.

"I don't want to go." Felicia crossed her arms. "You could've said that. I would've accepted it."

It would've been that easy? Frustration sparked. "Isn't it rude to say no without an excuse?"

"Pearl, not wanting to go is an excuse." She leaned back in her chair. "So?" Reaching for the last strawberry, she fixed me with her gaze. "Do you want to go or not?"

I should say no. Brandon would be furious if I didn't say no.

But…that wasn't what Felicia was asking. What she wanted to know was…did I want to?

And…

"I do," I found myself saying even as dread settled deep into my bones, my very being. "I'm a bit scared, but I'd like to go."

Felicia smiled, and I knew at once that that was exactly the response she'd been expecting. Her eyes glinted as she held out the last strawberry and pushed it, without warning, into my mouth.

"Excellent."

~ ~ ~

So here I was.

I only knew high school parties from movies and books, but nothing had ever prepared me for the real thing. Not enough, anyway. The party was taking place at once of the cheerleaders' houses: a large, spacious place with more Halloween decorations strewn over it than my parents would be able to afford from their whole combined pay. Pretty people in cool costumes passed us on every side, the girls often in short, revealing clothes that looked horribly out of place in the cold October weather. There was music coming from somewhere inside, although it was half drowned out by the chatter of voices.

I tried to smile. "Here we go."

"We got you, Pearl," Sunday said in an undertone. Her arm was tight around my shoulders, her voice suspiciously tense. She, too, was nervous to be invited to a party with all the cool kids, even though she was trying not to show it.

Dan, on the other hand, looked perfectly relaxed. He had already fist-bumped and high-fived three or four guys walking in, and he had just turned to say something to us when he was tackle-hugged by a curly-haired girl. "Dan!" she shouted. "You showed up too, it's so good to see you!"

"I had no idea he was that popular," I told Sunday as Dan got dragged away by a whole group of students, girls and boys alike.

"You haven't even seen a third of it," Sunday replied with a roll of her eyes. "He's a jock, he knows, like, a million people or something."

Right. Thinking back, that made a lot of sense. Dan was an athlete, friendly and good-looking; no wonder people liked him.

Little by little, we eased into the crowd. There were people drinking (I didn't know what they were drinking, and didn't care to find out), standing together in groups, talking, flirting. I was pretty sure I spotted a couple making out in a dark corner, though I quickly looked away. Deeper inside the house I could spot a table laden with snacks and paper cups, and even further I thought I caught a glimpse of the dance floor.

"Food!" Sunday exclaimed, pushing through the crowd for the snack table. "Hell yeah. Let's go, Pearly!"

Fascinated, I watched as she grabbed a paper plate and loaded a huge pile of chicken wings onto it, snatching one from right under the nose of a girl who might or might not be a cheerleader. "I'm starving," she said and shoved one of them into her mouth. "Man, I feel bad for these popular girls. What's it like, only eating healthy food twenty-four/seven?"

I offered a pacifying smile. "I'm pretty sure they have snacks too."

"Nah, they don't. Gotta stay skinny, or people don't like you." Sunday chomped down on the next wing, then offered her plate to me. "Want some?"

"Um—no, thanks," I said. "I'm worried I'd smudge the makeup."

"Hmm. True," Sunday replied with her mouth full. "Whatever. More for me."

We retreated to the side of the room to watch people and, in Sunday's case, to snack. For a while we stood there unbothered, chatting, then people started coming up. Not many people, of course; but every so often someone would stop and talk to us, usually to compliment our costumes. I had a vague feeling of having seen them all before, but couldn't remember their names for the life of me.

Then, suddenly, Sunday threw her empty plate into the trash and pushed herself off the wall.

"Oh, hey, Felicia," she said with a venomous grin. Felicia was coming straight towards us with Louie and Chelsea in tow, all three dressed up as cute and very fashionable witches. "Nice…costume…you got there."

Felicia smiled back in a way that meant she'd caught the vitriol, but didn't care for it. "I know, right?" she said with her brightest fake smile. "It's, like, the cutest I've had in ages. Almost as cute as your edgy look!"

Sunday's expression sharpened. "Damn, it's almost like Halloween's about looking scary and not cute," she shot back.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought I heard you say something really stupid, but I was obviously wrong." Felicia held a graceful hand up to her ear. "You said Halloween's about having fun, right? I totally agree!"

"Sure," Sunday retorted. "Having fun and not looking pretty. Or did you cute little cheerleaders put so much makeup on your brain that you can't even do Halloween without dressing like total slu—"

Felicia let out a fake gasp. "Oh my God, Sunday, watch what you're saying! For a second you totally sounded like you were gonna slut-shame us for our outfits. Which is, like, obviously stupid," she added with a roll of her eyes. "Like, why would you shame the way people dress? Just 'cause you're not confident enough to show off your body—"

Sunday flinched like Felicia had struck a nerve. "Maybe I'm the kind of confident that doesn't need to show off my body," she replied, "because I don't run on attention from some hollow-brained dudes."

"Oh, right." Felicia's eye roll was so exaggerated it looked like they would roll right out of her skull. "Sorry, I totally forgot. You're not like other girls, 'cause you totally don't care about dumb stuff like fashion and makeup and attention—oh wait." She pursed her lips at Sunday's costume and makeup. "What was that again?"

"Guys, please," I said before Sunday could snap a response. "I think Sunday's costume is gorgeous, and I think you guys look amazing too, so…could we not?"

The venom drained from Felicia's expression so quickly I almost got whiplash. "Pearl gets it," she said warmly. "By the way, girl, you look totally stunning. Who did your costume?"

"Sunday," I said, delighted to have something to unite the two at last. Sure enough, Sunday looked proud.

Felicia nodded appreciatively. "Love it," she said. "Anyway, you guys wanna dance?"

Sunday and I shook our heads. Louie nodded enthusiastically, Chelsea a little more awkwardly, and the three of them turned to leave. But not before Louie paused and turned back to Sunday.

"By the way, Sunday," she said, "your costume looks super cool!"

Sunday blinked, looking wary. "Uh," she said. "Thanks?"

"You made it yourself?"

"Y…eah, why—"

"That's amazing!" Louie clapped her hands together and beamed. "Would you mind making one for me sometime? Maybe next Halloween! If you want?"

"Huh," Sunday said awkwardly. "Sure."

"Yay!" Beaming, Louie turned and hurried after the other two, soon to disappear in the crowd.

Sunday stared after her.

"What the hell was that?"

I smiled.

"I know you don't like the popular girls," I said. "But as you can see…they're not all bad."