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“I’m such a spaz. I’ll buy you a new shirt.” The freshman girl looked like she was ready to start crying too. The other girls had taken a slight step away from her in order to distance themselves from her certain social suicide. I swallowed the tight knot in my throat. She hadn’t meant to do anything. It was my own fault. I shouldn’t have worn the shirt if I didn’t want anything to ever happen to it.

“It’s okay,” I managed to whisper. I waved her hands away before she could smear the polish further. “I really have to get going.” I hustled back down the hall to my room.

I shut my door behind me and slid down to the floor. I couldn’t believe that had happened. I pulled off the sweatshirt and looked at the stain. I buried my face into the shirt. I bet my mom would have known how to get nail polish out in the wash. Today was turning into a crappy day. I would have gladly traded the Bette Davis dress to have my mom’s faded sweatshirt back without a big blob of Candy Apple Red Kiss on it.

I looked over at the clock. It was getting late. I knew I could either lie on the floor and feel sorry for myself or I could get working on the stupid time line so I could get at least a few hours of sleep. I fired up my computer, and there was the ping indicating new mail. It was from my dad. I clicked on it with a smile; his e-mails always put me in a good mood. But as soon as I read the first few lines, my stomach clenched tight.

Hailey—

I hope your classes are going well. I have some bad news; there’s been a change of plans. I’ve been asked to teach a lecture series in London. The company is going to sponsor the program, and it’s an excellent public relations move. It will likely result in an increase in funding for several projects. This means someone else will be heading up the training project in Tahoe this summer.

I hate to cancel our plans, but I know you’ll understand. I’ve talked to your grandparents, and they would love to have you again. I called in a favor and was able to get you a job in the Munson Hospital Lab up there. Heck, you’ll get to spend your whole summer at the beach. You won’t even notice I’m not there. My lectures will wrap up in August, and we can spend some time together then, and we’ll pick you out whatever you like for a graduation present. About the party you planned, your grandparents can’t have all your friends at the house, but you could invite a few of them. I bet they’ll love the beach too! Besides, sometimes a small group can be more fun than having everyone.

Love,

Dad

I stared at the computer screen. I hoped that if I stared long enough, the words would rearrange themselves into a different message. This couldn’t be happening. He was canceling. I’d done everything I could do to be the perfect daughter, and it still didn’t matter. I felt like I was going to throw up, that sour slick of spit sticking in the back of my throat. I picked my iPod up off the bed and hurled it across the room. It left a scar on the wood and made a clunk when it hit the floor. That made me feel a little bit better. I looked around for something else to destroy. I grabbed my pillow and yanked open the drawer in my desk, pulling it almost completely out. I took the scissors and stabbed them into the center of the pillow. That’s what I thought of his fancy lecture series and his acting like changing my party plans was no big deal. I stabbed the pillow again. A poof of tiny white down feathers flew out, and as I pulled out the scissors, more began floating up into the air. I felt my breath coming faster.

I stood up and kicked my mom’s sweatshirt out of my way so I didn’t have to look at the ruined sleeve. I took my bag and turned it upside down, dumping everything onto the floor. I shoved my history book out of my way, snatched my cell phone from the pile, and immediately called Tristan. His cell didn’t pick up. He never charged the damn thing. What was the point of having a cell phone if you didn’t have it on when people needed to reach you? I was so frustrated,