No Place Like Homecoming Dallen, Maggie (best sales books of all time .TXT) 📖

knew of these three, they had an odd sort of relationship. Friends, in a sense, but at school they went their own ways. They had their own lives. My guess was, if they didn’t have the princess troupe tying them together, they’d never have been friends at all.

Savannah and I had exchanged little more than a ‘hi’ and a ‘hey’ since Callie had forced her to come say hello to me in the cafeteria the day before. I’d gotten the feeling I was dragging her away from her way more important social calendar—and when she’d looked at me like I was a speck of dirt?

It had not endeared her to me.

The fact that in return I’d looked down at her knockoff ankle boots and snickered with disdain?

Well, I was guessing the feeling was mutual.

Which was fine. I wasn’t here to make friends. I shouldn’t even be here at all.

Frustration had me clenching my hands into fists. I’d officially lost control over my life. All my plans, all my goals, all my dreams were fading out in a blink. I was fading out in a blink. My mom had called to check in every other day this week. Like clockwork, which was how I knew it was on her calendar. But the calls were short, and her promises to get me back home were growing more and more vague and far less convincing than when I’d been standing right in front of her.

Dad hadn’t checked in at all, and Mom said he was having a crazy week at work, so that explained that. He’d forgotten about me. It happened often enough that I didn’t need her to sugarcoat it or make his excuses.

But even Tayler hadn’t picked up when I’d tried to video chat last night, and Logan had been MIA all week. Up until...call me.

My heart was in my throat as my brain went into overdrive thinking of all the possible things he might say. Like, he’d decided to ask someone else to homecoming. Like, he’d started dating someone else. Like, he’d forgotten all about me and wanted to see who this girl named ‘Isla’ was who kept texting him.

“We’re here,” Callie called from the driver seat, as if it wasn’t immediately obvious.

The small townhouse was one of few that lined the town’s main street, and there were costumes hanging in the front window.

“She runs the party business out of her house,” Willow said, as if I couldn’t figure that out.

“And she rents costumes when they’re not in use, so if I were you, I’d take home the Dorothy dress and wash it ASAP.” Savannah barely looked at me as she said this, striding ahead of us all like she owned the place.

I tried hard not to think about who might have worn my costume before me. “How are you all sure I’m going to be Dorothy?”

The three girls exchanged looks before opening the door and letting out a cacophony of showtunes. “Because none of us would touch that role with a ten-foot pole,” Callie finally explained.

“Seniority is everything in this troupe,” Savannah said with the sort of snotty attitude that told me she was the most senior of them all.

“Fine.” I shrugged. “I don’t care.”

Willow winced. “You might when you get stuck as Merida.”

“Who?”

“Exactly,” Savannah said. “Or Elsa. I hate being Elsa. Although, the tips are pretty decent if you can pull it off.”

Callie frowned. “I love being Elsa.”

“That’s because you can sing,” Savannah pointed out.

Willow turned to me. “They always expect Elsa to sing Let it Go.” She frowned. “I hope you can sing. Can you sing?”

I nodded.

“Mrs. Messner said she’s a legit actress,” Callie said, all defensive on my behalf, which was sweet but totally inaccurate.

“I’m not really a professional, or anything,” I started.

Savannah dragged me into the house because apparently we weren’t moving quickly enough for her liking.

Willow caught my eye and explained. “She doesn’t like people to know that she works for the troupe.”

Savannah huffed and turned back with a flick of her hair. “I just don’t feel the need to announce the fact to the rest of the school. It’s none of their business.”

I kinda wished I could judge her for this, but I got it. I so got it. If anyone from home found out that I was playing dress up for cash, I’d never hear the end of it.

“Okay, so if I’m filling the dreaded Dorothy role, who are you all supposed to be?”

“Ah! There’s my Glinda,” Mrs. Messner called out as she strode toward Savannah with a pink prom dress in hand.

“Last year I was the lead Munchkin,” Callie said. “But since there are no boys in our troupe—”

“Not yet,” Mrs. Messner interjected. “I’m working on it.”

“Right, well, until then,” Callie said with a grin, “I’m going to be the scarecrow.”

“And I guess that makes me the Tin-Man,” Willow said.

Mrs. Messner smiled over at me. “I’d rather hoped Flynn would be the cowardly lion since Savannah really needs to be Glinda.”

I nodded as if that made sense.

Willow leaned over. Apparently she’d appointed herself as the troupe’s translator. “Mrs. Messner writes little”—she waved a hand—“skits.”

“Flynn will never do it,” Savannah said.

She said it with such authority that I glanced over at her with a surge of...what? What was this sensation?

My chest was too tight, and my stomach churned. Savannah was pretty. More than pretty, if I were being honest. And while I’d never really seen her and Flynn spending a ton of time together at school, the way she was talking about him now—like she knew him so very well—it made me wonder.

And it made me snap. “Why not? What, is he too cool to wear a lion’s costume?”

“Yes.” His voice behind me made my whole body tense and then catch fire. I swung around and caught the cocky smirk I knew I’d see before I’d even seen it. He held up a camera. “But mainly because I’m already on duty as a photographer.”

“Aren’t you catering, too?” Savannah asked, heading over to