Practice Young Adult Scene

Someone was tapping on Miranda’s bedroom window. She bolted upright, startled. Her heart pounded and she gasped. Her alarm clock said it wasn’t even six yet. Who would…? She groaned. The only day she could afford to sleep in, her bratty little brother had to wake her up. What did he want anyway? She raced to the window. It wasn’t her brother. It was Becca. Becca looked over her shoulder. Then she gestured for Miranda to open the window. Miranda unlatched the window and shoved it upward. Becca lurched forward, facefirst, right into her. Miranda staggered backward as her friend grabbed her arm and struggled to climb inside. Miranda gagged at the smell of beer and smoke—not cigarette smoke, either. Her heart sank. This was Seth’s fault. No, it’s my fault. I made him fall in love with her. She put her arm around Becca’s waist and helped her in. “Say I slept over.” Becca jerked free and lurched toward the bed, wiggling out of her jacket and dropping it on the floor. “What are you—” “Shut up, she’s coming.” Becca’s mom must’ve been waiting up, so she’d come here instead of trying to sneak into her own bedroom. Had anyone seen her? Miranda swallowed hard. It wasn’t like she hadn’t covered for Becca before, but this was pretty serious. 2 Becca hid in Miranda’s bed, without bothering to get undressed. “Hey, shoes!” But it was the smoky smell that worried Miranda most. She’d have to sneak her sheets into the washer before Mom did her usual rounds. If Mom thought Miranda had started doing drugs, she’d be grounded forever. “Miranda?” Mom knocked on the door, then opened it without giving her a chance to respond. Mrs. Fisher was right behind her, looking like she’d been up all night, fuming. Mom was elbowed aside as Becca’s mother stomped into Miranda’s room. Miranda resisted the urge to stand in her way. It wasn’t fair, Mom and Dad had agreed to respect her space. Now Mrs. Fisher was invading it. But Mom didn’t object, and if Miranda protested, it would look like she was hiding something. “She went to that party, didn’t she?” Mrs. Fisher shrilled. “Where’s my daughter?” Miranda rubbed her eyes, pretending confusion to give herself a chance to think. She’d never rat Becca out, but Mom had a sixth sense for lies. Besides, she had no idea what Becca might’ve already told her mother. Time to play dumb and hope everyone calmed down once they saw Becca was safe. She pointed her finger at the lump beneath the blankets on her bed. “You mean, that daughter?” Becca groaned theatrically and peeked out from under the covers. “What?” “You’ve been here all night?” “Yeah.” Becca pulled the blanket back over her head. 3 Mrs. Fisher shot an angry look at Miranda. Blaming her. Miranda felt a flash of anger at Becca. It wasn’t enough that she cover for her friend, now she had to come up with a good lie? Mom frowned. “You didn’t ask me if you could have a sleepover.” A sleepover. Like they were still in grade school. Miranda put on her best innocent face. “After you and Dad went to bed, I remembered our lab report wasn’t done. I didn’t think it’d be a big deal.” “It was a big deal, young lady, because Mrs. Fisher was worried sick. If you’re going to have a sleepover with Becca, you need to ask permission first. Or at least Becca needs to leave her mother a note.” Miranda stifled a sigh of relief. Mom was clearly skeptical, but she wasn’t blaming her. “She will next time, promise.” Mom smiled, then turned to Mrs. Fisher. “Why don’t we have some coffee while the girls wake up?” Miranda held her breath until their mothers had left and the bedroom door was safely shut once again. Becca threw her hand up to shield her eyes as the covers were yanked off her. She yanked the covers off Becca, who threw a hand up to shield her eyes. “Ow.” “Start talking,” Miranda demanded. “You won’t believe what Lissa did last night—” “I don’t care about Lissa, what happened to you?” “She showed up at the diner and practically threw herself at Seth. He told her to get lost. It was beautiful.” “That’s where you were all night?” 4 Becca grinned weakly and showed Miranda the back of her hand. It was stamped with a smeary blue flower. “Seth’s sister got us into Club Indigo.” No way. Envy and shock had a throwdown in the pit of Miranda’s stomach. “Becca, If your mom finds out—” “You better not tell her, Miranda.” What the heck? “I lied for you, didn’t I?” Becca staggered toward the mini-fridge beside Miranda’s desk, opened it, and grabbed a cold beverage. She popped the top and raised it to her lips, taking several long swallows. Then she headed for Miranda’s closet. “What are you doing?” Miranda asked nervously. “Obviously I can’t go home like this.” Becca tossed Miranda’s brand-new red halter top—the one she’d bought for Valentine’s Day—on the bed, along with a pair of jeans that Miranda had spent hours strategically ripping with Mom’s sewing scissors. “We’re going to the beach this afternoon. “I can’t go to the beach, I have clarinet lessons.” Miranda grabbed the halter top. “I haven’t worn that yet.” Becca was annoyed. Since when was Miranda so stingy with her clothes? But she went back to the closet and began sliding hangers back and forth. “I swear, Lissa just about had a meltdown. I almost felt sorry for her.” No, you didn’t. But that wasn’t the real issue. “I can’t believe they didn’t card you.” “Don’t be jealous, you can come with next time.” “Before Seth, you never—” “Before Seth, I was nobody. I had no friends.” “I thought we were friends.” 5 “You know what I mean.” Becca disentangled Miranda’s favorite tank top from the hanger and yanked it on. “And I thought you’d be happy for me, now that I’m finally with Seth.” “You’re with Seth because I made him fall in love with you.” And dump poor Lissa, who was just as bad as he was. “I’ll find a way to pay you back.” I don’t want to be paid back, I want things to go back to normal. She wanted to blame Seth, but it was all her fault. If Miranda hadn’t done that spell… Becca grabbed the jeans from the bed and put them on, then chugged the last of the tea and threw the jar into the trash. “Keep your mouth shut, or I’ll show Ian our sixth grade picture.” She wouldn’t. Sixth grade had been Miranda’s worst year ever, and Becca had been her only friend. Miranda had been thirty pounds overweight, her hair had been a frizzy mess, and she’d had to wear braces. If Ian saw that picture… Becca slammed the door behind her. Something fell off the closet shelf, landing at Miranda’s feet. It was the purse that she and Becca had bedazzled together in sixth grade. Some of the rhinestones had fallen off in the past three years, and the denim strap had frayed. Tears sprang to Miranda’s eyes. She was losing her best friend to a boy. She had to do something, but she didn’t know what.