Peaches

on Danay’s graduation day. Which, Leeda figured, was the only way God would have it, since apparently He too loved Danay best.
    The Cawley-Smiths and Brighton’s family, the Wests, ate at Nikolai’s Roof after the ceremony—which had a 360-degree view of Atlanta and a bunch of hot Russian waiters. Leeda sat in a strapless, flowy GSUS dress she’d bought in Buckhead the day before. Her legs had returned to their usual creamy white milk-and-honey complexion, with nary a fire ant scar in sight. Her hair was perfect, and the few freckles she’d picked up working at the orchard a month ago had faded. She looked perfect, but of course nobody, aside from her friend Alicia who she’d brought from Bridgewater, noticed.
    While the adults talked with one another, Leeda and Alicia gossiped.
    “How’s Rex?” Alicia said, raising her eyebrows suggestively.Alicia always wanted to talk about him, as if Rex were the most fascinating subject of all time. It made Leeda feel possessive, proud, and bored all at the same time.
    Leeda shrugged. “He’s good. Working at the country club and the orchard. I hardly see him.”
    “Too bad. He’s worth seeing.”
    Leeda smiled halfheartedly. The first few weeks she and Rex had dated, she’d definitely been infatuated with his looks, his body. But she’d sort of stopped seeing that after a while. It was like it had faded into the background. Which was probably what had happened for Rex too. She wondered how he saw her now.
    “Alicia, do you think I’m anal?”
    Alicia shook her head. “No way. You’re just particular.”
    Leeda eyed her friend. Yesterday at Lenox she’d chosen almost the exact same dress as Leeda had after she’d seen Leeda try it on.
    Leeda sighed. She was leaning toward mostly bored.
    The conversation had turned to the weekend, when the Cawley-Smiths were having a graduation dinner for Danay at their most upscale hotel, the Bridgewater Plantation View. The name Horatio Balmeade drifted across the table.
    “You guys aren’t inviting him, are you?” Leeda asked.
    Her dad was dipping into a platter of beluga caviar. “Of course we are. Horace is a good friend of mine.”
    “Daddy, I can’t stand him.”
    “All the more reason to learn to like him. He’s been a good business partner to me.”
    Danay was rolling her eyes as if this was the same old crap,different day. Leeda’s mom was nibbling on the caviar with a glazed-over expression.
    “Dad, he hits on me. I hate it.”
    Mr. Cawley-Smith glanced at the Wests with embarrassment. “Leeda, that’s enough. You’re exaggerating. He thinks you’re a nice young girl.”
    Leeda’s blood began to simmer. She rearranged the silverware in front of her. Next to her Alicia shifted uncomfortably, then excused herself to the bathroom. Danay took the opportunity to sidle up beside her sister.
    “So have you started your speech yet?”
    Leeda wiggled farther into her seat. As maid of honor, she was supposed to plan a speech for the wedding reception. But she couldn’t imagine having to get up in front of all those people and ooze over her sister, on top of all the people who were already going to be oozing all over Danay.
    “It’s coming along,” she muttered.
    Danay’s lips parted in an excited smile. “What about the bachelorette party?”
    “Um.” Leeda hadn’t even thought about it. In fact, she’d kind of forgotten that was her job as maid of honor.
    Danay grinned, squeezing her wrist. “Well, I know it’s supposed to be a surprise and everything, but I think it would be fabulous if we did it here in Atlanta. I’d like to get that Fur Bus around the city.” Leeda winced. The Fur Bus was, as the name suggested, a bus covered in fur, lined inside with strobe lights and disco balls, that tooled around the city while its riders got drunk and rowdy. Leeda hated drinking and motion at the same time. “And I love the desserts at the Ritz;I love Xavier Salomon. Dancing would be good. I hear Compound is great.”
    “But I won’t be able to get in.”
    “Oh.” Danay frowned. “That’s right. Damn.”
    “And no strippers, Leeda, please,” Mrs. Cawley-Smith added from across the table wryly.
    “Mom, don’t be gross,” Leeda growled.
    But Danay and her mom were giggling, like they were suddenly women together.
    “I don’t even know why you’re having me plan the party if you already have it all planned out yourself.”
    “Leeda, really,” Mrs. Cawley-Smith said. “It’s Danay’s