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Here is a short sample from the book:
When we were done eating, I threw the pizza box in the fridge. Brooke poured another round of shots for us, and this time I did mine at the same time as her, with my eyes closed.
“So, you know my story. Now it’s your turn.”
Brooke shrugged one slender shoulder and picked at the blanket with her pale yellow fingernails. I looked to her toes and saw they were painted in a matching shade. At first glance, everything about this girl screamed high maintenance. Yet, here she sat on my bed, eating pizza out of a box, drinking tequila shots and seemed to be perfectly comfortable doing it.
“There’s not much to tell. I grew up here with Gram. My mom was only sixteen when I was born and was too young to handle raising a kid. She comes and goes, but mostly goes. I went to cosmetology school after high school, and I do hair at Loraine’s Luscious Locks.” She winced as she said that last part. “I hate that name. Luscious is such a weird word.”
I laughed. “Do you like what you do?”
“Yeah, I really do. I’m good at it. I like making people feel good about themselves. It’s not brain surgery, but I like it.”
“You don’t have to save lives to be doing something important. I’m sure a good haircut can do more for a woman’s self-esteem than twenty sessions with a psychiatrist.”
“That’s probably true,” Brooke said, tilting her head to the side as she studied me.
“What?” I asked, thinking I must have pizza sauce smeared on my face or something.
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you gay?”
“What?” I repeated. This conversation was not going where I thought it would.
“It’s just that you’re so…nice. And you seem to really understand women.”
I snorted. “I assure you, Brooke, I am not gay. And I absolutely do not understand women. Your species is a complex and unsolvable mystery to me.”
She giggled and reached for the tequila bottle again. When we both had our shots in hand, she held hers up. “To new friends.”
I clinked my glass against hers. “To new friends.”
That’s the last thing I have any clear memory of…