008

"Romance novels," Skylar deadpanned. "Purely for research purposes."

"Not masturbating to their steamy sex scenes," April grinned."Now go get dressed because we're already running about two hours late. No nerdy, you wanna learn about wormhole clothes. I want you to impress me with your outfit choice."

"Have you ever seriously considered auditioning for a role on Saturday Night Live? Because you're just hilarious," Skylar replied with heavy sarcasm."

“Actually, designing clothes is my passion. If that doesn't pan out, I might consider stand-up comedy as my backup plan."

"I was being completely sarcastic. You have no talent for comedy."

"I know that even a professional clown wouldn't laugh at my jokes. I will definitely eat up every single outfit I perform on stage, though."

"You're so annoying," Skylar said affectionately, heading toward her room and slamming the door for dramatic effect.

"Love you too, Sky!" She yelled back, grinning despite herself.

In front of the mirror, she looked at her brunette waves framing her rosy cheeks, red lips, brown smoky-eyes makeup, and glistening gold hoop earrings. Placing her hands on her waist, she assessed her emerald midi dress with a thigh slit, made of a silky material that dangerously hugged her body. April let out a gasp from the doorway.

"Oh. My. Gosh."

"What?" She turned to face her.

"You went for bougie. I love it. It's different. Westbrook will chase that ass all night once he sees you."

"All this glam isn't for him. There might be someone with actual substance there."

"Uh uh, wait, heels." April picked a pair of gold D'Orsay pumps from the heap of shoes on the floor and shoved them at her. "Put these on." Slipping them on, she was handed a small gold clutch. "Here, carry this. It looks much better on you."

"Can this fit my phone, lip gloss, and credit cards?"

"Yep. Condoms, and if you are feeling a little freaky, lube too," she said with a mischievous grin.

She made a face. "I will never smash a weirdo at a party."

"Sandra Dee, what about a quick fuck with a hottie and his ten-inch monster dick?"

"You are sick."

"And you need to be less boring. We are in college. This is the time in our lives to increase our body counts, binge drink, and make awesome regrets. Soon I'll be stuck in a soul-crushing nine-to-five, dealing with daily emotional assault from an uptight boss, juggling kids, paying mortgages, and funding my 401(k). But it's not gonna be the same for you. You are a Carter."

"Don't say that name."

"You hate him that much, don't you? I don't know what happened, except your brother's death. Yeah, you could easily drop the name, but bad news, you can't escape it. You're always gonna be his daughter."

"It's only a last name."

"Yeah, a last name on the Richest Americans issue every goddamn year."

"Enough of this! If I promise to give you a wilder version of myself tonight, will you drop it? I don't wanna talk about it!" she snapped.

"Okay, chill," April said, her hands raised in surrender. "Sorry. I didn't mean to poke you."

"Let's go already. These shoes are killing me."

"Don't take them off, they are stunning. Those are Gianvito Rossi, right? I can tell from the detailing and finish."

"I don't know. I can only see a pair of heels. Wore these to a fundraiser once. Wished I had worn some wedges when I realized they are pure torture."

"What a regular bitch would say. So the party is at Montgomery. We might need to stop for some gas."

"Cool, I have my cards."

"Glad I can count on you, my snuggle bunny," she murmured, hugging her tightly before standing up. "Put a pin in that. Gimme a sec, I gotta pee," she said, hurrying out the door.

"Seriously?" Skylar sat on her bed, her mind racing back to April's words. "You can't escape it; you are always gonna be his daughter." "I don't know what happened, except your brother's death." She let out a bitter laugh at the false narrative that was sold to various media outlets to not soil Maxwell Carter's image.

She is nothing like her father, the demon who destroyed their family, sent her mom to rehab, and killed her brother. No, she can never be like him. April reappeared at the doorway, derailing her thoughts.

"Sorry, I had to use the bathroom. You know I hate using public ones. I had to create space in my body for the amount of booze I'm about to consume. Are you ready?"

She swallowed down the bile burning the back of her throat and controlled the anger swirling within her. She took a deep breath, forcing her hands to stop shaking. "Yeah."