fumble

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My cousin Alyssa, who went to Eastmoor High School, didn't throw parties often, but when she did, they were big. It wasn't just the fact that she lived in an enormous house that could fit about five football teams thanks to her dad's career as a NFL player. It was also the fact that she had connections everywhere. Yours truly was her main supplier of Northwood guests and she was fairly popular in her own school (no, not a cheerleader), plus her boyfriend was a linebacker. It was one of the only parties where both schools actually collided on purpose.

I was fairly glad that my cousin didn't throw parties on a regular basis because when she did, I had to be at her place about five hours earlier to help set up with her and her friends. Thankfully, my best friend and my cousin got along great, which is why I forced Liz to help set up as well.

Alyssa's parents were okay with us throwing a party while they were out of town as long as we abided by their rules, which were easy enough– don't trash the house, clean up afterwards and lock all the rooms. In case of trouble, we had our guy friends to help us handle it. We weren't serving a lot of drinks but we had no doubt that a handful would bring their own and that was okay as long as they were just drinks.

Upstairs, I locked every room with the handful of keys bound by a silver key holder. When I was done, I tossed them into a drawer that I didn't think anyone would check and ran back downstairs to check on the rest of the girls. They were pretty much done preparing. They had bags of chips neatly stacked on the table and big bowls to pour them in when people started arriving. They were now leaning against the table and talking.

"You have to tell me who it was," Liz urged.

"Who what?" I asked, including myself in the conversation.

"Someone in Eastmoor got suspended yesterday," Liz explained.

"Cat fight," Alyssa's friend Erin supplied.

I leaned in, resting my elbows on the table, "Ooh, do tell."

I didn't know what it was about stupid gossip like this that intrigued us girls. I think stories that were different intrigued anyone. But gossip fueled conversations. Sometimes, the things said weren't very nice but telling a person not to gossip was pointless. It was how information got around. People were interesting and it seemed their stories were as enticing as a sirens call.

"Stacey," Alyssa said.

I did a double take. "Stacey Andrews?"

"You know her?" Erin asked and then shook her head like she'd asked the dumbest question on earth. "Of course you know her. You dated Blake."

I had texted Alyssa about Blake a couple times. She was curious and he was from her school, which was where she heard the news.

"That girl is scary." Claws and all.

"That girl is crazy," Liz corrected. "Who kisses guys who have girlfriends?"

"Who kisses girls when they have a girlfriend?" I said.

"So they're both evil," Alyssa concluded. "We all know that."

"What happened with her?"

"A lot of things. Mainly, she hit a girl because Blake was cheating on her with her and apparently, guys aren't allowed to cheat on girls they're cheating with."

"Karma," I sang, although it did appear pretty heartless. "That sucks for her. I meant the other girl. Not Stacey. Stacey's a crocodile."

"I hear her dad's pulling her out of Eastmoor," Mia, Alyssa's other friend, put in.

"Please, no," Liz covered her face with her hands. Because that meant she was going to study at Northwood.

"You guys can keep her," I laughed.

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