Lily
I grab another rock from the pile next to me and try to skip it over the drainage “river” below the bridge. Skip, skip, spash. As always. No matter what I do, I can’t get the f*****g wrist movement right. In a fit of frustration, I shove the rest of the rocks into the water at once. The water splashes up, dampening the soft pink hem of the dress I thought was so stupidly beautiful when I put it on this afternoon, and I don’t even care. I stand up, wobbling in my heels, and turn to face the Morrow Hotel.
God, I didn’t even walk far enough away that I can’t see the lights through the, like, six trees that separates me from my prom. My prom! What the hell am I even doing out here? I should go back.
The thought makes me nauseous enough that I grab the banister of the teeny-tiny bridge
