Marnie Barnes’ senior year plans are simple: Win the prestigious Hunt Prize, outshine her perfect older sister, and secure the love of the guy who saved her life. But none of it’s possible if Marnie doesn’t face the awful truth: She’s not Lizzy, she’s Mary, the unloved middle sister from Pride & Prejudice. This calls for an Anti-Mary Contract—stop lecturing, start living, don’t die alone with fifteen cats. Marnie vows to become the protagonist in her own story, even if it takes realigning those Capital P Plans.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that no one should spend her eighteenth birthday at the library.
That’s according to Adhira Fitz, accidental roommate and apparent birthday expert. According to me, libraries make for fabulous birthdays. I would say something about being surrounded by your bosom friends, but even I realize that makes me sound like your Great Aunt Maude, the one with opinions on brocade and three too many cats.
The Pacific Crest Academy library is cocooned in the hush of hundreds of books and a librarian who only wears soft-soled shoes. Deep within the stacks, I’ve commandeered my favorite table and spread my textbooks and notes with precision—books to the right stacked by size, highlighters to my left. Everything in its right place. Me in my right place, surrounded by my book BFFs without a soul bothering me.
Make that, one soul bothering. I snatch up my phone and balk at Adhira’s name. We don’t chat. We happen to share living quarters until the PCA Housing Board comprehends their mistake and puts me in the single room I’ve repeatedly requested.
“Yes?” I hiss, tight-lipped.
“You’re not hiding alone in a library on your birthday, Marnie. I won’t allow it.”
Well, that’s preposterous. I’m not alone. (See: aforementioned book BFFs.)