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L IS A  J.  L A W R E N C E


             The grin gave him away, like Rachel’s car was delivering a
             winning lotto ticket. And he had that amused look —just
             waiting for someone to make him laugh. His loose brown
             curls slightly disheveled. Greta had wanted to touch him.
                Matt came and stood behind him, a beer in one hand.
             “Heeeeeyyy!” he and Dylan called to Rachel and Greta at the
             same time.
                Rachel laughed. “Those two.”

                Inside the cabin, she hovered behind Rachel as Matt
             and Dylan set up beer pong and mixed some purple punch
             that made her eyes water from three feet away. How could
             she keep up with them? They obviously did this every
             weekend.
                Priya—all legs in a little dress and tall boots—and Sam
             arrived shortly after. Rachel pulled Greta into the living-room            ADVANCE READING COPY

             area, where two tiny loveseats and a wicker chair bumped
             each other. A burning log in the fireplace radiated the only
             heat. “You should probably know,” Rachel whispered, “that
             Dylan used to date…”
                Don’t say Priya, Greta had thought. Priya already seemed
             to own every room she entered—a goddess ready to shower
             commoners with blessings or wrath.
                “…Priya last year,” Rachel finished. “I’d keep one eye on
             her, if I were you.”

                More people crowded into the kitchen and living room,
             and they started a game of beer pong. Greta tried not to gag
             on the yeasty, lukewarm beer. For a few minutes, nothing,
             then the buzz hit her head, her legs a little off balance. She



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