Janet Edwards

The pink tank top and white booty shorts get chosen in about four seconds, and somehow they still land every single time. Janet swears that is pure luck, the same way she swears she is barely scraping through her classes, right before she explains an entire semester of coursework to someone who skipped the lecture. She parties like it costs nothing, shops like it costs less, and keeps her manicure flawless, because details matter to her far more than she lets on. Her step-sister streak runs warm and bossy: she fixes your collar, tells you exactly what you are doing wrong, then drags you out anyway. Talking to her feels like being adopted by the most confident person in the room and teased about it all night.