SIX DAYS by Jennifer Davis

have to worry about what your mother will think. Live for you, life’s too fucking short not to. Let go of your fear of being judged. Do what makes you happy. Do what feels good because God knows that feeling good sometimes only lasts a moment. Don’t waste your time worrying about what anyone thinks of you, except you.”
    I nodded. What she said made sense, but not worrying would be hard.
    “Now, you’re getting that dress and those shoes.” Hazel pointed to a pair of silver, open toe heels that had a delicate rhinestone design on the straps. “And you’re going to have a fabulous time wearing them tonight, right?” she stated.
    “Right,” I smiled. She made it sound so easy.
    Once we’d finished at the clothing store, Hazel took me a few shops down to have my nails done. She flipped through a magazine while giving the nail tech instructions. She ordered sport-length acrylic tips for my fingers, finished with a French manicure. I also got a French manicure on my toenails. I thought it was ridiculous, but Hazel insisted that the bouncer at Lurid, the new nightclub we were going to, would look closely at me before letting me in, so it was necessary to cover all the bases. I was, after all, going to have to pass for twenty-one.
    When we got back to Hazel’s car—she’d driven a Ferrari this time, red of course—there was a guy leaned against a yellow Lamborghini parked next to us looking like a supermodel waiting for someone to take his picture.
    “What the hell? When did you get back?” Hazel shrieked, and then threw her arms around him.
    “Last night.”
    “Why didn’t you call me?”
    “I wanted to surprise you. It’s more fun for me that way,” he said, looking past her at me. “Who’s your friend?”
    “Um…oh, this is Ryen Wiley,” she said, like she’d forgotten I was with her. “Ryen this is—” “Carter Abbott,” he said, cutting her off. “It’s nice to meet you, Ryen Wiley,” he oozed, his voice smooth, like liquid velvet. His deep-blue eyes briefly swept over my face, before returning to Hazel’s gaze. 
    “Come with me,” he said to her.
    Hazel looked at me. “You can drive stick, can’t you?”
    “Yeah, but I hope you don’t want me to drive your—” “Good, meet us back at my house,” she instructed and tossed me her key. Carter winked at me. “Thanks, Ryen,” he said, his voice all velvety again. He smiled and I thought the whiteness of his teeth could have permanently blinded me if I stared at them too long.
    My first car was a stick shift, a Honda Del Sol. It was made the year I was born and my dad had taught me how to drive it. I thought I was badass because it had t-tops. I laughed out loud thinking about that, because now I was driving a Ferrari convertible, which really was badass. It made me feel like I was better than everyone else on the road, even though the streets in our neighborhood were full of nice cars.
    I took my time getting back to Hazel’s house, since I had no idea what she and Carter were up to. I parked the Ferrari in her driveway and sat on the front porch. I figured I’d stall as long as I could. I didn’t see Carter’s Lamborghini, but I still didn’t want to chance interrupting whatever they were doing.
    A few minutes later, Hazel pulled the front door open, startling me.
    “What the hell are you doing out here?”
    “I figured you and Carter were…you know...”
    She laughed hard, doubling over. “No stupid. Carter’s my brother.” I did feel stupid; assuming something was going on between them, but neither of them told me they were related.
    “I guess I forgot to mention that,” Hazel laughed. “I was just so happy to see him. He’s been working in Europe for the past six months.”
    “Sorry, I just thought…”
    “Don’t sweat it,” she laughed again. “He’s going to meet up with us later, but don’t say anything.” She pointed at me. “He wants to surprise everyone.”
    “Okay.” I paused for a moment,