Page 54 of Just Neighbors

This weekend, I’m forgetting about my crappy life. This weekend, I won’t be the girl living in filth—well, what filth I can’t clean. This weekend, I won’t be the outsider who yearns to fit in but is unable to afford every puzzle piece.

I wasn’t just asked. I was asked by Kyle Lane. The hottest and coolest guy wants to go out with the class loner. I was shocked when he asked. We’d only spoken a few times, and those were to compare test scores.

This is going to be the best day of my life.

* * *

All my homecomingexcitement ends when I tell my mother.

“Why would a boy invite you to the dance?” she snarls, as if it were the most disturbing idea in the world. “He must want to get in your panties.”

“Or he might like me,” I snap.

She snorts and takes another drink of vodka.

I hate my mother and don’t care if I’m judged for it. You don’t have to like someone because you’re related.

An hour later, my mom passes out in her bedroom, and I play with Trey on the floor.

“I’m sorry about Mom,” Claudia says, surprising me. “It’s no fun when she treats you like a whore. She’s done it to me all my life, too.”

I rise up onto my knees. “Did you ever go to a high school dance?”

“A few times, yes.”

A twinge of jealousy hits me, and I bite into my bottom lip. “How did you afford the dresses?”

“I stole them.”

I briefly consider this.

“You can’t pull off shoplifting, Chloe. You’re too obvious.”

“Maybe I’ll find some fabric and make my own.”

She reclines in her chair and crosses her arms. “I’ll try to pull something together for you, okay?”

I nod, knowing I shouldn’t agree to my sister stealing something for me, but this might be the biggest night of my life.

* * *

I’m searchingthe couch cushions for spare change to purchase fabric from the store. Our neighbor said I could borrow her sewing machine. I taught myself to use it a few years ago to fix the holes in my clothes, and eventually, I even made a baby blanket for Trey.

“Hey there, Chloe.”

His voice surprises me. I drop the cushion to find Sam with a shopping bag in his hand.

“Hi,” I say.

Normally, I’m excited to see him, but he hasn’t been around lately,andthere’s not even one penny in the couch. There’s no way I’ll find enough money for fabric.

“Your sister said you got asked to the dance this weekend.”

I brightly smile until I remember my lack of funds. “I did, but I’m not going.”

“Why? Isn’t every teenage girl’s dream to go to homecoming?”

I bite into my lip as tears swell in my eyes. “I don’t …” I lower my gaze in embarrassment. “I can’t afford a dress.”

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