Have you ever made a rash decision? Maybe you wanted to go to a concert but didn't have the money...and went anyway? Or you decided to make a fitness Instagram that would only get 20 followers in just as many days, and then you deleted it out of embarrassment?

That second one, good job. You should have deleted it. That's embarrassing.

I don't make rash decisions. I never have. I thought for weeks before I started writing this. Weeks. Before I decided to start typing something that no one would even read. It took me three months to decide on Clemson after my gap year. It took me six weeks to build up the nerve to ask a rather mediocre-looking guy to the Sadie Hawkins dance during my sophomore year of high school.

If this tells you anything, it should say that I don't make immediate decisions. I make carefully planned, carefully curated, meticulously thought-through decisions, to the point that it's annoying to anyone I talk to about them.

That's why everything in my life that had anything to do with Kennedy Abrams was so bizarre. They were all rash decisions. Skipping class here, calling out of work 'sick' there...everything was done on the spur of the moment. Everything was a rash decision. And it was such a rush. It was exhilarating.

And it was 110% not me.

But rash decisions became the hallmark of our friendship. And they became something that would change the course of my entire life.

Because that one morning, when Kennedy texted me saying that I wanted this mysterious 'change' in my life?

She was right.

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10:12 PM. Rebecca clocked out of Publix and waved goodbye to the girl who was going to take the night shift. Rebecca couldn't imagine working the night shift. It seemed like such a terrible thing to do to yourself.

So, it was a good thing that Georgia did it, and Rebecca didn't have to.

She got in her car and started for Kennedy's apartment, feeling like this was a routine now. Going to Kennedy's without knowing why she was really going. Just knowing that she was finally a part of something, finally a part of the life of someone who was just about as fascinating as a person could be.

Rebecca knocked on the apartment door at 10:21 PM and waiting approximately twenty seconds before hearing someone shout "Come in!" from the other side of the door. She opened the door slowly and walked into the apartment, finding three people in the living room and one in the kitchen. Kennedy sat on the couch, typing furiously on her laptop with a look of utmost concentration, which could have simply been because she was trying to ignore the fact that Lyla and Doug were making out on the armchair just a few feet from her. Rebecca walked in and sat on the couch beside Kennedy, nodding her hello to Rian, who was cooking something on the stovetop that smelled absolutely atrocious. The only thing Rebecca could think to compare it to was a combination of old fish and burnt spinach.

Kennedy didn't acknowledge Rebecca's presence for a second and kept typing, her eyes trained on the screen as her acrylics tapped along the keyboard angrily. She kept going for another minute as Rebecca sat in silence, trying to ignore the smell of Rian's cooking and the sound of Lyla and Doug's tongues in each other's throats.

Kennedy stopped typing and turned to face Rebecca, a manic light in her eyes that caused Rebecca to be simultaneously excited and terrified.

"I was thinking about our conversation this morning," She began quietly, ensuring that neither of her roommates were listening, "About how influencers are so fascinating and how we could probably make a fake version pretty easily. I kept thinking about it, and started thinking about the logistics of it, and everything came together. I mean everything. We could make our own fake Instagram influencer."

Rebecca shook her head.

"What?" She asked, raising her eyebrows in confusion. "We can't make a fake influencer. It doesn't work like that, we can't just one night make a fake account and expect people to—"

"Why not?" Kennedy interrupted, "It would be simple. We would tailor the fake account to be everything that embodies the stereotypical influencer. Saturated photos, exotic location tags, ads for athletic clothing and hair vitamins. Long captions about how great life can be when you let go of the little things. Travel posts. We could totally do it. All we would need is a little photoshop on some images and a kick to get us started."

Rebecca thought for a moment, feeling herself start to get excited about this concept. She knew it was stupid. They wouldn't stay anonymous for long, nobody would buy it. It was like Hannah Montana for amateurs.

But she also felt the pull of being famous. Of being rich and beautiful and loved by so many people that she wouldn't even be able to read all of the flattering comments. She thought of the fan pages and the gossip accounts that could talk about her.

It was something out of a fairy tale and a horror movie at the same time.

"But who would the influencer be?" She finally asked, "The account would need a face, right?" Deep down inside, in a place she never acknowledged was there, Rebecca felt herself hoping against hope that Kennedy would say Rebecca should be the face of it. To be recognized by people in public. To be called beautiful and gorgeous and have people dress up like her for Halloween.

But she knew that wouldn't be the case. The realistic part of her knew that Kennedy was going to say what she ended up saying next.

"I would be." Kennedy replied excitedly, "We could photoshop me into different locations and pretend that I'm just a doppelgänger of this famous influencer if anyone stops me. We could take tons of pictures and make it look like I've actually been to all of these places. It would be the biggest con of the century."

Rebecca nodded, trying not to feel hurt at not being considered for the face of the account but feeling the stab just the same. It made sense though; Kennedy was the prettier of the two of them, the one with a six pack, the one who had the idea in the first place. Of course it would be her.

"So...are we doing this? For real?"

Kennedy nodded eagerly as Rebecca pulled out her old notebook from last semester's classes.

"Let's brainstorm, then."

Rebecca opened her notebook and titled it, 'New.' Not too obvious, but not something she would mistake for anything else. She looked up at Kennedy for their next step.

"A name?"

Kennedy nodded and the two girls thought to themselves. Rebecca found her mind wandering away from their admittedly exciting task and instead travelling to the first time she had been in Kennedy's apartment, two nights before. How she had shown up with Celeste and Spencer and absolutely no idea about what she was getting herself into. Kennedy Abrams had had an incredible idea and had called Rebecca to fulfill it with her. Two days ago, Rebecca never would have believed it.

She had fallen on that treadmill and it had changed everything. In a good way, she presumed. She was sitting in the living room of the most charismatic, charming, exciting person she had ever met. That didn't happen every day. That treadmill had created something incredible for Rebecca. Something she had never thought would actually end up happening, and yet there she was.

"Drew." Rebecca said suddenly, her flailing mind landing on something solid. The guy from the party on Saturday. The one she had danced with. His name had been Drew. It was probably a unisex name, and sounded like something a famous woman would call herself.

Kennedy nodded.

"Drew. I like it." She watched as Rebecca wrote it down in her notebook. "What about a last name?"

Rebecca started thinking again. Only this time, she was thinking of Drew. Or, rather, she was thinking of the guys she would be able to attract if this became something. If she started hanging out with Kennedy Abrams on a daily basis, and not just for this one marvelous weekend. If she became a regular at her parties. If she started to appear in Instagram posts and Snapchat stories. If she became someone that Kennedy Abrams was proud to be friends with, she could be friends—or more—with anyone she wanted.

"Rian, that smells like something died and you left it out for three days." Lyla broke away from her boyfriend to yell at her roommate and jolt Rebecca out of her thoughts. Rebecca and Kennedy looked over at the redhead roommate as she sighed loudly, looking like she was on the verge of tears.

"I burnt the parsley!" She cried in exasperation, "And now I don't know how to fix it."

"Throw it out." Lyla muttered under her breath before returning to Doug and becoming oblivious to everyone else again.

"What about Parsley?" Kennedy asked Rebecca, "For the last name?"

Rebecca glanced over at Rian almost pulling her hair out and laughed.

"Sure, why not?"

She wrote it down in her notebook next to 'Drew' before realizing she forgot the 's' in 'Parsley.' She went to cross it out and write it again when Kennedy caught her wrist.

"Leave it." She shook her head, "I like Parley better."

Rebecca nodded and left the last name as it was. Drew Parley. That was the official name of their fake person. Drew Parley.

At that point, sitting on Kennedy Abram's couch at 11:12 PM, Rebecca Eaves had no idea what kind of impact Drew Parley was about to have on her life.