A round of Nerf bullets shoots through the bedroom door, hitting Hillary in the arm.
 
 “Boys!” Her voice raises as she turns to look at Krew and my nephew, Boston. “If you shoot me again, I’m throwing away all of the Nerf guns.”
 
 I bite back my smile because I don’t want to get into trouble too. “Krew.” I muster my best parenting voice so she thinks I’m on her side. “No hitting Aunt Hillary with Nerf bullets.”
 
 The boys turn their guns on me, and suddenly I’m assaulted with flying blue darts. One hits me in the eye, and I’m reminded once again how deadly those things are. I run to the door, but the boys scatter before I can steal their guns and use them against them.
 
 “Tyler, no playing around.” Hillary’s hand goes to her hip, and I feel as though she’sbabysitting me tonight, too, not just Krew. “You need to get dressed, and we still have to do something with your hair.”
 
 “What’s wrong with my hair?” I tug at the brown strands flipping out from under my baseball cap.
 
 She walks to the dresser and pulls out a pair of Logan’s slacks and throws them at me. “You can’t wear a baseball cap on a date.”
 
 Dating.
 
 There are so many rules and regulations.
 
 I don’t even want to date. I wish I could sit home with Kristen and Krew and watch a movie with a bowl of oversalted, overbuttered popcorn. That’s the life I chose, and it seems completely unfair that it was taken from me.
 
 CHAPTER5
 
 MEG
 
 “Are you sure this is a dress? Because it seems more like a towel.” I pull at the strapless black dress that is barely covering my behind. “And not even one of those pricey bath sheets at Target. I’m talking about the Great Value six-pack of hand towels.”
 
 “You look amazing!” Tessa twists a lock of her blonde hair, pleased with how my makeover went. “But don’t be getting any ideas. That dress is mine, and I want it back after tonight.”
 
 I have absolutely no ideas about keeping this thing.
 
 “Every woman should have a little black dress in their closet just like that one.”
 
 “Littleis definitely how I would describe it.” I keep my hands behind me, using them as a shield in case my butt is on display as I walk down the waterfront pier.
 
 Brooke swats my arms away. “What are you doing?”
 
 “I don’t know!” I fidget with the dress again. “Things feel breezy and airy back there, and it’s making me nervous.”
 
 “The dress isn’t even that short. You’re just used to wearing your nun habit to Catholic school.”
 
 Of course Tessa can’t be bothered with the actual details of my life. “It’s not a Catholic school,” I correct. “It’s aprivateschool.”
 
 “Aren’t those the same thing?” Tessa steers us in the direction of the dock and the waiting yacht party.
 
 I glance around, taking in the crowd. Between the restaurants, bars, and boats, people are everywhere. The sounds of live music hang in the air from a bar down the pier, competing with the laughter and conversations of all the people milling about. The vibe is trendy, and it’s literally my worst nightmare. It may be a holiday, but don’t these people know it’s a school night?
 
 I don’t want to be here. I want to be home with Zak, getting Chinese takeout delivered. But this is my life now. This is what single people have to suffer through.
 
 Tessa points down to the water. “There’s the yacht.”
 
 My eyes go to the sleek white boat with the wordsFeelin' Nautipainted on the front.
 
 Clever.
 
 Except I am definitely notfeeling naughty.A strobe light sparkles from the top as a crowd of extremely beautiful people dance to the blaring music, but all I can hear is the bass. The steady beat thrums through my ears down to my beating heart. Have I mentioned that I loathe rap music? If the songs I listen to from 1988 didn’t give it away, then I don’t know what will.
 
 If this is the life that a single woman on a break has to live, then I’m out. Target can have my mini-towel dress. I’m going home. I would run back to the car, but Tessa’s stupid high-heeled death traps make running virtually impossible. I feel like I put my feet inside of a slinky. The shoes have a million straps running up my calves, not to mention the thin, four-inch heels.
 
 I pause my steps. “I can’t do this.”