CHAPTER 2 The Atomic Theory of Matter

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"I can't believe you agreed to this."

"Shut it, Sam."

I tucked my long, straightened-with-a-flatiron brown hair behind my ears.Self-consciously, I smoothed the skirt of the little black dress she'd talked me into wearing, annoyed-for the twentieth time-that the hem of the skirt ended mid-thigh.

"You look hot, hooker. Just own it." Sam nudged my elbow with hers and I grimaced.

If someone had asked me twelve hours ago how I'd be spending the first Friday night of spring break, I would have told them I'd be curled up in my bed against fluffy pillows, sipping tea, and eating shortbread while reading.

I would not and could not have fathomed I'd be on my way to a fraternity party dressed inlace-topped thigh highs, a black dress, stiletto heels, with my hair down, and wearing makeup.

That's right. Makeup. On my face. With glitter eye shadow.

Also, my eyebrows were plucked. Plucked! Gah!

I rolled my eyes and huffed like the disgruntled recluse I was. I would rather shop fora bra than go to a fraternity party, and that was saying a lot.

"Oh, come on, Katy. There was no way we could get into the party wearing band T-shirts and men's pants. This is a skirts-only party."

I'd been educated earlier in the evening that a "skirts-only party" is a fraternity party where all the girls are required to wear short skirts. Upon hearing this news I briefly considered leaving Martin to his fate. In the end, my conscience wouldn't let me.

Jerk conscience. Always making me do things.

"You act like getting dressed up is torture," she continued. "You look hot." Sam, who I suspected had been waiting for a chance like this since our freshman year of high school, didn't sound at all sorry for me.

"I don't look hot. I look ridiculous."

"You're a babe."

"Shut it."

"A hot babe. And guys are going to be wanting some of that." She pointed at me and flicked her wrist, indicating my bosom and backside. "Especially 'dat ass."

I grumbled, but made no other audible response. Inwardly, I cursed myself for the hundredth time that I'd failed to warn Martin about the plot I'd overheard in the chemistry lab earlier. If I'd just kept my wits about me I would be curled up with a book now instead of walking toward a den of inequity dressed like a girl.

Even though we were still two blocks away, I could hear the sounds of the party. My neck felt stiff and my hands were clammy.

The plan was quite simple.I would find Martin, explain about the plot and what I'd overheard,then we would leave. Sam wasn't a frat party kind of girl either.Yes, she liked to get dressed up, but she called sorority girls"sorostitutes" and fraternity guys "fratilos." She labeled them"group thinkers" and claimed they suffered from a herd mentality.

She was kind of judgey that way.

I hadn't given sororities or fraternities much thought because...no point.

"I still don't get why you don't have his cell number. He's your lab partner, right? And he was your lab partner last semester too?" Sam tossed her blonde curls over her shoulder.

Sam was a little shorter than me and was attending the University on a tennis scholarship.She was determined to get into Harvard Law and, therefore like me,she was focused, spent very little of her time looking for ways to sow oats. Her all-business attitude made her an ideal best friend and roommate.

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