By Abby McDonald
3 not likely allies staff up for an evening of uprising, romance, and revenge in a high-stakes dramedy from acclaimed younger writer Abby McDonald.They’ve spent years on the related highschool with out conversing a note to each other, yet that’s all approximately to alter. renowned Bliss used to be having the suitable promenade till she chanced on her BFF and boyfriend making out behind a limo. undesirable woman Jolene wouldn’t be stuck lifeless on the promenade, but the following she is, trussed up in purple ruffles, risking her recognition for a few man - a few man who's 40 mins past due. And shy, studious, ?ber-planner Meg by no means counted on her date’s status her up and leaving her idling within the parking zone outdoors the promenade. prepare for The Anti-Prom, Abby McDonald’s hilarious, heart-tugging story approximately 3 women and one unforgettable promenade evening.
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Sample text
God, she’s got my entire yearly paycheck down here, gathering dust. I move on. The bedside tables are decorated with a few photos in heavy silver frames. Kaitlin and crew at the lakeshore. Kaitlin and crew hanging out by the pool. Kaitlin and Bliss, grinning widely in matching red bikinis. They look happy, like best friends should. Suppose you never can tell. I glance over at Bliss, wondering again why she’s going through with all this effort and strategy, when she could just knee that ex of hers in the groin and be finished with it.
I want to forget everything, but no matter how much I throw myself into the music, I still feel weirdly detached, like I’m not in my body anymore. I should be crying, heartbroken over Cameron somewhere, I know, but for some reason, the tears won’t come. I just picture them together, frozen in that guilty scene. His hands, her little breathy moans. I feel something sharp start to form behind my rib cage, a fierce knot of resentment. ” Brianna declares, pushing through the door into the gleaming cream bathroom.
Thanks,” I mumble. I didn’t expect her to play along, but it’s still not as if I owe her or anything. ” I’m done humoring her, but just as I’m about to tell Bliss exactly where she can take her fake smiles and vast reserve of entitlement, I catch a flash of something in her expression. For a moment, the smile strains at the edge of her lips, and her eyes are full of anger. Then it’s gone, and that careful mask flips back into place. I pause, softening just a tiny bit. Anger, I know. Damn, I could write an epic novel on that.