It's Not About the Accent
"You got everything?"
I slammed the back hatch on my aged-but-not-so-old-it-was-actually-cool Forester and turned to face my best friend. "Yes, Mom," I drawled.
Amy wrinkled her nose in that cute way she had. "Bitch," she replied in a decidedly not cute voice. It's what threw people -- the acid tone coming from that sweet little face and petite body. Well, the tone and the scary intelligence. Neither of which threw me, mostly because we'd known each other since the playpen, so I just laughed.
"Takes one to know, et cetera, et cetera."
"Yeah, yeah." She waved her hand and made a pfft noise. She wasn't impressed by me, either. "So seriously, Caro, do you have everything?"
I glanced again into the full-but-not-stuffed back of the wagon. "Pretty much. It's only a summer session, Ames."
"True," she agreed, "but you still have to have the essentials."
Holding up my hand, I began ticking off on my fingers, "Laptop, iPod and portable speakers the ... read full excerpt from It's Not About the Accent ebook
