"This is an unfortunate outfit choice," Eleonora says. "I know I said to dress casually, but I don't mean to wear something a six-year-old would wear."

I glance down at my shirt. It's a maroon sweater with a fox on it. Not going out often means you forget what people actually wear in the great outdoors though this is my favorite sweater. I paired it with black jeans and tied up my hair. "The trick is to look nice but not too nice that people start to notice you."

"Why?" El says, staring ahead at the road.

"I don't want too many people talking to me. One step at a time, sis."

She smiles. "Well, you are good at seamlessly blending into a surrounding. You should add that to your resume."

"Oh, it's there."

She glances at me, a weird look on her face. "And you still got the job?"

I shrug. "My boss thought it was funny."

Eleonora is dressed to impress as usual. She obviously spent some time on her make-up. Her hair is straight and short, falling on her shoulders. We both have curly hair like Mom, but her's is more tame and not so frizzy. She's wearing a low-cut white shirt with long sleeves and a yellow skirt that falls just above her knees. I don't think they're meant to be this long, but El is pretty short. She takes after Mom in that aspect. I hover at least four inches over her. She clutches the steering wheel, wearing more rings than I can count. Now, this is someone who spent a few minutes going through her wardrobe and trying to decide which outfit would suit the occasion. I, however, threw on whatever seemed to look comfortable enough for me. My outfit choice relies very little on what's appropriate.

"You look adorable," she says. She can tell when I'm displeased even before I do. It pisses me off sometimes, but she has good intentions for the most part.

I smile back and stare out the window. This is going to be harder than I thought, but I'm sure I can do it. It's not rocket science, just go in there and say hi to someone. Small talk. I remember how to so that. The wife\husband, girlfriend\boyfriend\temporary lover, kids\cats, and career. The basics. If I'm lucky, other people will steer the conversation. They won't ask about Atlas or any other controversial topic, and I'll extend the same courtesy. When I sense awkward silence, I'll go get a drink or excuse myself to the restroom. If all else fails, I'll sit with Wren. She'll blab about her friends and her job, going on and on without realizing that I've never said a word. It'll be as if I'm the one talking this entire time.

Maybe it is science.

As long as I have a plan, I'll be fine.

We spend the rest of the ride arguing about what music to put on. El has an unorthodox taste in music. She wants to listen to the soundtrack to The Princess and the Frog and I wanna listen to The Rolling Stones. Every time we stop at a red light, we get strange looks. We don't even get to listen to one full song before we pull up right in front of Wren's new apartment. This is sort of a housewarming party. She just got a bigger one with a bunch of girls she knew from college.

I turn off the radio and sigh. "I go out of my way to come to this stupid party with you and you won't even let me pick the music."

She pulls out a bunch of keychains and something furry—there must be a car key buried under there—and slips it in her pocket. "Out of your way?" she mutters dramatically under her breath. "She's your friend! I'm just trying to help out here."

"You spend more time with Wren than I do."

"I have my own friends you know and actual plans for a Sunday night that doesn't include chaperoning my little sister."

We step out of the car and head to Wren's apartment. She lives with three other roommates, and somehow the three of them all love throwing parties every chance they get. "You don't have any real friends. No one passes your criteria, so you just harass mine instead."

"Ha. Ha. You're hilarious. Well, I'd rather hang out with my boyfriend."

I give her a look. "Ian annoys you. Isn't that what you always say?"

She glares at me and takes out her spare key to get inside Wren's apartment. I can hear light music playing. The living room is dimly lit. I forgot how big this place is. Having two other roommates must be great when it comes to paying rent. I can't remember the names of the other girls, but I'm sure we met them in college.

As we walk inside, Wren comes out to greet me. Her red hair is styled in loose curls tamer than mine. I tied my hair back to get a break from that tonight.

"How. Are. You." Wren says between hugs. She squeezes my bones for a few seconds before handing me a drink. "I haven't seen you in ages."

"I saw you last week."

El interjects, "Three weeks ago, you mean. I came alone last week and stayed for an hour before you asked me to leave because you had 'work' to do."

Wren jumps in before I can answer. "None of that tonight. You're off the hook, L. Just make sure to come more often." With that, she ushers me off to the center of the room.

I look around, recognizing a few faces of distant friends. People I'm friendly with enough to go to a wedding or a funeral, but not enough to call up often. My little circle is enough for me. At least I know I can tell Olive and Wren just about anything without it getting out, and they'll always want the best for me.

I take small sips of my drink, not bothering to wonder what's inside it. The music isn't too loud that I can't think. Just low enough for people to be able to converse. There's a sofa in the middle in front of the TV. Most people are crowded around that area, talking. El is dancing with some guy. She's been distant from Ian lately. They've been together for two years, her longest relationship yet. He's nice and seems to like her a lot, but things have been edge ever since Eleonora told him he can't move in with her. The prospect of someone messing up her room and changing up the furniture isn't something she's ready for.

As I walk around, I make some small conversation. Just enough to make sure people know that I'm here. It'll hold them up for the next few years, at least. Olive is busy in the corner talking to somebody, so I decide to give it some time. I drown another cup of something strong and find a nice chair in the corner near the window. It's white with a small, orange cushion sitting on top. My bag sits on the floor as I pull out a book. The cover has a body of water in it with a girl floating on top. When you first pick it up, you think the girl is swimming. After reading the book, you understand that this is her lifeless body floating on top.

I reread the first line several times and manage to finish a good chunk of it before being interrupted. When I look up. I see a boy sitting on the floor, leaning against the window. He smiles up at me when I notice. He tries to sit with his legs crossed, but there's too much of him. His knee bends at a weird angle.

"Karl!" I say, startled.

He furrows his eyebrows, then shakes his head. "It's Kal." The boy sits up. Finding a more comfortable position. Somehow, he seems to think my not remembering his name is more shocking than it is.

"Are you sure it's not Karl?"

He gives me a look. "Yes, I'm sure what my name is."

"Because you do seem to have some mental issues," I say. "Are you following me?"

He shakes his head as if the thought is outrageous. "I'm not following you. I mean, I did follow you to your apartment that day with the letter, and I did wait outside your apartment and drive my car closely behind yours—by the way, interesting choice of music—but I'm not following you, like in a creepy way."

"You don't think that's creepy?"

Kal frowns. "You're reading a book at a party. You don't think that's creepy?"

"A tad reclusive, but not creepy."

He pauses for a second, then snatches the book from my hand, flipping to the first page in the book. Kal glances up at me, sighing. "Lydia is dead." He slams the book shut, then hands it back to me. "This is depressing. The first sentence and someone is already dead!"

I take a quick look around to make sure no one's staring at us. El is in the far corner of the room talking to some guys. She attracted a whole group of them, smiling and making hand gestures as she narrates some kind of story. "It's a great book," I say, not knowing whether he's read it before or not.

"It is a phenomenal book, but it's not party material."

"What book is party material?"

He pauses, rubbing his chin dramatically as if he's seriously contemplating the matter. "Tolstoy?" he says hesitantly.

"War and Peace? Or Resurrection?"

He shrugs. "Okay. Bad example."

Kal is about to say something else, but I take the book from him and stuff it back in my bag. "It's nice talking to you, but I'd really appreciate it if you stopped following me around. This is the last thing I need right now," I say, starting to get up. He frowns. "You should leave too. Before everyone notices that you don't know anyone here."

As I walk away, I begin to feel a little guilty, but that doesn't stop me from turning around. Sorry, Eleonora. I tried.

Author's Note:

This chapter's completely new!

I'd like to hear your thoughts on the new title and cover for this book. It took me a long time to figure out whether I should make the change or not.