Resisting Mr.Popular
I think, tugging the hem down as I step out of April’s car.
“Stop freaking out. You look like a baddie. Seriously, you look sexy,” April says, dressed in a rhinestone cowl neck halter crop top and matching skirt.
“I look like a hooker,” I whisper, panicking.
“Oh my God, you don’t. This is what I have been saying, you need the whole college experience. This is what most girls wear to parties,” April replies, checking her lipstick in the rearview mirror.
“Can I at least borrow your jacket?”
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