“Now, take your cock in your hand,” Sommer instructed, her husky voice dropping an octave. Mylah practically floated into the room—tall, black and graceful, and dressed in flowing satin pants and a cropped sequin top that shimmered with every movement. There were two extra boys—and only ten girls. “That’s not the point,” she spat. “It’ll just take a second to make sure everything’s okay back there. The house was a typical suburban dream—two stories, a well-kept lawn, and a porch that looked like it belonged on a postcard. She spotted Wu at his locker, exactly where he always was before third period. “I am so screwed.”
Her heart pounded like a drumline, and she was nearly hyperventilating. Cassandra didn’t knock—she just walked in, rolled her eyes at the living room, and said, “Ugh, this place better not smell like nerds by the end of tonight.”
Right behind her came Holland, her best friend and self-proclaimed “aesthetic queen.” Holland was dressed in a soft pastel cardigan over a white mini dress, her blonde waves perfectly curled and adorned with glittery butterfly clips.
