From Vanessa's Theories of the Universe
Excerpt from June 10
5 p.m.
Every shade of purple you could ever imagine, from lilac to plum waves hello from the neighbor's backyard. The wind picks up, the edge of my dress flips up in the breeze, Marianne's wine glass falls over, and burgundy liquid spills everywhere on the table.
"You look nice," Marianne says. "Go over there before this mess ruins your outfit."
"Do you see Beast?" I give my mom instructions what to do if he calls or stops by and the same thing with my friends. And then I ask, "Do you know where everyone is?"
She waves me away. Whatever she tells me, I don't hear. I see her lips move but can't process the sounds but imagine she says, "Have a good time."
The door closes, my feet carry me to the neighbor's backyard where I stand debating whether to turn around.
The Mean Girls squeeze next to me at the bar by the pool. We're seniors or in college. They are different shades of bubble gum and so full of air when they talk all you see is giant, puffed up lips moving.
If I stare long enough, they all look like anything, even friends. They keep gossiping about Beast and some skinny gorgeous Little Debbie by the pool. And I say things about my life.
Imagine on Amazon
Other titles by L.A. Wolfe
5 p.m.
Every shade of purple you could ever imagine, from lilac to plum waves hello from the neighbor's backyard. The wind picks up, the edge of my dress flips up in the breeze, Marianne's wine glass falls over, and burgundy liquid spills everywhere on the table.
"You look nice," Marianne says. "Go over there before this mess ruins your outfit."
"Do you see Beast?" I give my mom instructions what to do if he calls or stops by and the same thing with my friends. And then I ask, "Do you know where everyone is?"
She waves me away. Whatever she tells me, I don't hear. I see her lips move but can't process the sounds but imagine she says, "Have a good time."
The door closes, my feet carry me to the neighbor's backyard where I stand debating whether to turn around.
The Mean Girls squeeze next to me at the bar by the pool. We're seniors or in college. They are different shades of bubble gum and so full of air when they talk all you see is giant, puffed up lips moving.
If I stare long enough, they all look like anything, even friends. They keep gossiping about Beast and some skinny gorgeous Little Debbie by the pool. And I say things about my life.
Imagine on Amazon
Other titles by L.A. Wolfe
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