Two weeks later Ashley and Kyla are in the back of the rental van. Christine and Bill are in the front. Bill is driving. “God, he’s such a schmuck.” Ashley mutters. She looks at him in the mirror. He has mousey brown hair; is 5” 8’, no tattoos, no piercings, a sweater-vest, brown slacks and loafers. Your typical boring rich guy. He met their mom at a dinner party. “He drives like a granny.” Kyla whispers. “I know! At this rate we’ll never get to DeathLake Prison Camp.” The older Davies girl replies. She and Kyla are only a year apart in age. She will be sixteen on September 5th and Kyla will be fifteen on August 15th. They are very close, almost like twins. They even have a secret language. “That’s the worst part of this’ driving from LA to stupid Maitland, Michigan.”

Six hours later they’re all settled in a hotel room for the night. The girls have decided not to speak to the adults. They are sharing a bed. “Ash, what am I supposed to do if there’re no boys?” “Don’t worry. There’s still a chance you could be gay.” “Boys are how you define yourself as a girl.” “No, they’re not. Ky, guys don’t run the show; we do.” “What’s it gonna be like?” “A little different, but still a school. There’ll be bitches, fights, cliques and bad food. Same as anywhere else.” Ashley lies, she knows it’s going to be hell.

When she wakes up her mom and Bill are dressed. “If they don’t get up soon we’re going to be late.” Bill whines. Ashley looks at the clock; 3:30am. She turns over to Kyla. “Ky, wake up. We gotta get back in the car.” She stretches and rolls over. “I don’t want to go to school!’ she mumbles. “ You love school. You’re such a conformist.” Ashley gets out of bed. “Good, you’re up. Get ready; we’re running late.” Christine addresses her oldest daughter. Ashley doesn’t say anything, she just goes into the bathroom to change. She hears her mother say good morning to Kyla. She brushes her teeth and hair, then takes a breath before opening the door. Kyla is in the mirror putting on make-up. She is dressed in a light blue skirt and matching spaghetti straps. The picture-perfect girl.