The Dolls by Kiki Sullivan

happened with my mother and moving away.
    “Your mom’s the one who committed suicide? Man, I’m sorry. I remember hearing about that.” She looks genuinely sad.
    When the bell rings at the end of class, everyone scrambles to grab their bags and dash for the door. Liv walks out with me and hands me a slip of paper with her phone number.
    “It’s nice to have someone new here,” she says. “Other than my best friend Max, who I’ll introduce you to tomorrow, and Drew, who’s cool, this whole school is really lame.”
    “What about Peregrine and Chloe and their friends?” I ask carefully.
    Liv snorts. “If you’re into staring at yourself in the mirror, getting wasted, and maxing out your mother’s credit cards, then yeah, they’re awesome.”
    As if on cue, the Dolls round the corner in a cluster. “Eveny!” Peregrine exclaims, stopping in front of us and ignoring Liv entirely. The whole clique draws to a halt behind her. “How was your first day, darling?” Then, without waiting for an answer, she rolls on. “Listen, Chloe and I have a surprise for you! We’re getting you a haircut and a makeover on Thursday after school. We’ve already scheduled an appointment for you at Cristof’s Salon.”
    “But—” I begin to protest, weakly reaching up to touch my tangled mass of red curls. Much as it would be nice to look a little better than I do now, I think I have a grand total of about seventeen dollars in my bank account at the moment. I’m guessing Cristof’s services cost more than that. “I’m not sure I can afford it.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s our treat,” Peregrine cuts me off. “We won’t take no for an answer. Consider it a happy birthday and welcome-back-to-town gift.”
    Before I can reply, the Dolls are already walking away. Arelia casts me a dirty look over her shoulder, and then they turn the corner and are gone.
    When I look back at Liv, she’s staring at me suspiciously. “You’re friends with them ?”
    “My mom was friends with their moms,” I try to explain.
    “That doesn’t answer why they seem to think you’re their new BFF.”
    “I know,” I say helplessly. “I don’t understand it either.”
    “Right,” she says. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” As she walks away, I know a wall has gone up between us. I wonder if the Dolls have done something cruel to Liv, and suddenly, I feel guilty. But even though all the logic in me tells me I should steer clear, I’m feeling more and more drawn to them by the day. It’s like they hold the key to who I was once was—and who I’m supposed to be.
    Everyone else is roaring out of the parking lot in their expensive cars, but Aunt Bea left a voice mail saying that she’s tied up with something at the bakery and can’t reach Boniface to ask him to get me, so I’m stuck walking home. I don’t mind, actually. I used to walk all the time in New York; it was a chance to be alone with my thoughts, even in a sea of people.
    But fifteen minutes later, the sun disappears completely, the humidity becomes oppressive, and the clouds turns black. I quicken by pace, but I’m only halfway around the cemetery when there’s a deep, earthshaking rumble and the skies open up.
    I curse and begin running toward my house, but the rain is coming down in driving torrents, soaking me to the core, and the road is getting muddier by the second. Lightning is flashing everywhere, sending electricity crackling through the air. The wind is holding me back, and I look up nervously at all the arching oak and cypress trees over the road; any of them could be a lightning rod in a storm. It would be just my luck to have survived my first day of school only to get electrocuted on the way home.
    As I trip and fall over a branch in the road, sending mud splattering all over my uniform, I notice a black Jeep Cherokee with a faded surfboard strapped to the top pulling up on my left.
    “Get in!” yells the driver through the open window. It takes