AMELIA
Cars crammed the street, thanks to the raging party. But the girls weave through the driveway, honking at drunk stragglers to snag a parking spot, as though they'd hit them.
"This is so out of context. I’ll never host a party like this. There is a guy puking in the flowers." Rose cringes, peering through the windscreen.
Bree, engrossed in her phone, managed to glance up and add her fault-finding commentary, "I mean can't you see her house?"
"What about her house?" I snap, resisting the urge to stay silent in the face of the girls' disparagement. Despite Deeja's bratty reputation, her house is undeniably beautiful, five times larger than where I grew up.
Bree and Rose shrug off my defense, "It's average" and "Lacks space."
"Wow!" I gasped and pushed the door open, for there wa
