When Sam Jackson and her best friend join the prom committee, Sam unexpectedly finds herself locking lips with a candidate for prom queen, Sabrina Jenkins. Old crushes resurface but there's one little problem. Sam promises to help Sabrina's campaign...
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The Jenkins' house was a wild place, and it was a miracle that no one had called in noise complaints about the party yet. I totally would've been that loser snug in bed, shamelessly ringing the police to deal with the noise so that I could get a peaceful twelve-hour sleep. But, there I was, in the middle of teenagers singing at the top of their lungs, dancing like lunatics to getting high. The only reason I was there was that I'd had just so happened to be in one of the hostesses' bedrooms.
The crowd hid away my best friend, so I went from room to room, looking for Anna. She finally moved away from greeting people, but that was a problem because I'd no clue where she was. She could've had been anywhere. After standing in line for the bathroom, she wasn't there and duh—it was one person at a time. That was stupid of me. She wasn't in her bedroom, or she was, and she locked herself inside. Eventually, I found her setting the books up straight in the library they had in the corner of their sitting room. Boom.
"Anna! There you are! I thought I lost you forever. Shots?" I asked, taking her by the arm from the sitting room and dragging her outside to the pool.
"Shots? Sam, look at me . . . Shit, you're wasted," Anna said to me warily.
"Wasted? Pfft. I'm a Doberman," I proclaimed.
"Doberman?"
"Where?" I asked, spinning around until she clutched me to her side. "C' mere doggie!"
"You said you're a Doberman," she explained.
"Oh. Soberman! I am a soberman—person," I chirped.
"Sam," she huffed out in the middle of laughter.
"Shots!"
Everyone nearby took a shot, slamming the cups down on the picnic table and the outskirts of the pool. Huh. This must've had been what it was like to be popular — swaying the masses with a single command. It was exhilarating. No wonder people wanted to be popular. No wonder Sabrina wanted to be prom queen. It said it in the title. Queen. How cool. Quaint. Queens needed tea. I wanted tea. Therefore, I was a queen? Hell yeah.
Jack poured me a drink—and he was a good servant, refilling my drink time and time again, no matter where I was. That was close enough to tea. It was a game! See how much you could down before your throat threw up fire, and I planned to throw myself into the pool if I felt it crawl up my neck.
Anna snatched the cup before Jack could place it in my hand – well I did try to grab it, but the cup went out of focus and was in Anna's hand by the time the bright lights dimmed. She ignored my pouting and emptied the cup onto the ground.
"Sam, you are so gone, my friend," Jack said, walking over and threw his arm around my other side.
"You're a liar like Anna," I accused.
"And you're a cute drunk," he said.
"She's not cute," Anna said. "Damn, Sam, how much have you had? Let's go to your house. I think you've had enough for a decade."
