Pretty Girl Thirteen. Liz Coley

all right. No one talks to her anymore. She’s lower than the outcasts.”

      A fate worse than death in high school. Poor Kate, Angie thought. But she did it to herself. Telling. Didn’t she realize?

      The sky hung overcast above them, and the breeze picked up—not a hot Santa Ana wind, but a preview of cooler weather. Angie shivered in her thin brown sweater—she hadn’t thought to buy a new jacket during her shopping spree. Greg pulled her closer under his arm, which totally made it worth freezing all the way to his house. He kept turning his head to look at her. She could feel his glance on her cheek, which was most certainly blushing.

      Greg unlocked the front door and sent the girls into the kitchen. “Grab whatever you want to eat,” he said. “I have to make sure the coast is clear.” He disappeared.

      “He’s shoving his dirty clothes under the bed,” Livvie explained. “He’s a total slob at home.” She stuck her head in the fridge and held out a can. “Want a Diet Coke?”

      Angie accepted. “Thanks. It is so great to be with you guys again. You have no idea what kind of day I’ve had. Mobbed, flocked all day. Totally crazy.”

      “I hear ya. Want some rum in it?” Liv asked. “I know where they keep it.” She grabbed two more cans and closed the door with her knee.