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    “I don’t want someone else.” Larissa looked just as panicked. “You have to get out of it,” she said firmly.
    Cassidy shook her head. “I don’t think there’s any way,” she said. “I wish there were.”
    “You can’t do this to me, Cassidy!”
    “What do you mean, I can’t do this to you ?” Cassidy asked.
    “You can’t just ditch me like this!” Larissa repeated.
    “What am I supposed to do?”
    As much as she loved Larissa, Cassidy could feel her teeth clenching around the cold metal spoon with annoyance. Sure, it wasn’t Larissa’s fault Cassidy was being forced into a summer of French drudgery, but could she maybe offer some moral support regardless?
    “It’s not like I’m thrilled about this either,” she said.
    “You know I’d much rather work at Seersucker with you.”
    “Shit.” Larissa’s head drooped into her open palms.
    “This is just great, Cassidy. Now they’re going to have to find someone to replace you. Plus they’ll be mad at me.
    This totally blows.”
    “I know ,” Cassidy repeated. She wished Larissa would stop looking out for number one and go back to playing the sympathetic best friend. She didn’t mind that Larissa always made herself the center of attention, but now that Cassidy was in the throes of a crisis, she wanted support, not more bailing out. “Don’t think I don’t feel bad about it.”
    “Well, of course it’s not your fault ,” Larissa conceded.
    She absentmindedly dug a Twizzler out of her bag, unwrapped it, and dipped it in her ice cream. “Although I do wish you would learn to stand up to your parents.”
    “Easier said than done,” Cassidy replied darkly.
    “Besides, it’s too late now. My mom already put down the deposit.”
    Larissa sighed. “Well, look on the bright side,” said finally. “Maybe there will be cute French guys.”
    Cassidy couldn’t help cracking a smile at her friend’s flakiness. “Why would French guys come to America to study French?”
    “Oh yeah.” Larissa giggled. “Well, if there are any, send them my way.”
    “And what would you do with a French guy?”
    Cassidy asked suspiciously.
    “Oh, you know, French things …” Larissa said vaguely. “Like zip around in his Alfa Romeo and go to wine tastings. And of course he’ll have a boat so we can take you and Eric sailing,” she finished. “Oh, mon Dieu—
    c’est romantique, mon amour. ”
    “That’s, like, the entire extent of your French vocabulary, isn’t it?” Cassidy asked through her giggles.
    Larissa pretended to look hurt. “Um, bonjour ,” she added. “Croissant!”
    Cassidy was laughing so hard she forgot to be depressed and didn’t remember her problems again until she was back home, trying to sleep with the specter of a summer of misery looming closer and closer in her mind.

Chapter Four
    Friday was the last day of school, and Cassidy was helping Larissa clean out her locker, which had to be the messiest in all of Malibu High.
    “Holy crap,” Larissa said, holding up an apple that looked like it had expired sometime back in the Pleistocene age. “Does this look like the principal or what?”
    Cassidy cracked up. The wrinkled apple actually did kind of resemble Mrs. Lorimer if you looked at it from a certain angle. Still, she had better things to do than sit around staring at fruit all day. The sign on the bank across the street said it was a balmy eighty-two degrees, and she was anxious to get outside. After all, she’d be spending more than enough time in a classroom soon enough.
    “Can you clean a little faster?” she asked Larissa. “I want to get out of here.”
    “But Cassidy,” Larissa teased. “You love school.
    That’s why you decided to go to it all summer.”
    Cassidy leaned back against a locker and crossed her arms.
    “Okay, look, I’m hurrying.” Larissa dumped an arm-load of loose-leaf paper into a plastic bag. “Go recycle this or something for me, okay? I should be done by the time you get