Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 100612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Oh please.” Macy huffs. “She is so basic. How he can not like you back when you’ve been sneaking off together is beyond me. You’re spending every spare second painting and decorating. It makes total sense that you’d fall in like with him! Seriously! None of us are blind, you know. We see what’s going on between the two of you.”
“Nothing is going on.”
If it were, Easton would have told Maddie no when she asked him to prom.
My friend rolls her eyes so hard I’m surprised they don’t fall out of their sockets. “Maddie Miller is a phase.”
I snort. “Maddie Miller is not a phase, but thank you for saying so. She’s—she’s Maddie Miller.” I groan miserably. “Did you see the crop top she wore to school last week? No one even cared it was against dress code.”
She never gets in trouble!
“She is boring,” Macy fires back. “Stop saying her name so much like she’s the queen of everything. She wishes she were you! You have layers. Depth. Maddie is…I don’t know…” She waves her hand as if trying to pluck the right word from the air. “Sparkly cardboard. Nice to look at, but nothing underneath.”
I want to believe what she’s saying—I really do.
But then I think about Easton’s sickening smile when he looks at her and I want to barf. The way he gave her a ride to school when he doesn’t have a car, when he’s never offered me a ride.
I grab my pillow, moving to sit up. “It’s too late, he’s taking her to prom. This is fate punishing me for blackmailing him.”
My bestie looks like she swallowed a lemon. “So what are we going to do?”
A current of relief goes through me at those words. Even if it feels like the world is against me, Macy is still on my side. I shrug. “I don’t know. Apologize for forcing him into this deal to begin with?”
“Apologize to him?” she echoes, skepticism lacing her tone. “Text him and say, Hey, sorry for blackmailing you, have fun at prom with Maddie? And then what? Pretend none of this happened? Pretend you’re not in love with him?”
“Pretty much.” The ache in my chest confirms how much it hurts to admit that. “It’s the least I can do. I dragged him into this mess. If I tell him in no uncertain terms the deal is over, at least he won’t hate me more than he probably already does.”
Macy stares at me as if I’ve sprouted a second head. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? You spent all this time with him, and because he was too chickenshit to tell her no, you’re giving up?”
Giving up?
What am I supposed to do, fight for him?
As if.
“What do you want me to do?” I snap, the tension high. “Crash his prom and declare my undying feelings in front of everyone? Beg him to pick me instead? I am not a pick-me girl, Macy!”
“No one said you were,” she says slowly. “But you’re acting like you’re the villain in this story. Spoiler alert: You’re not. She is.”
Her words hit me like gut punch.
Is she right? Has Easton been spending time with me not because he has to but because he wants to?
I shake my head, trying to dispel the hope creeping in. And the butterflies.
“He did not tell her no—that’s all that matters. Actions speak louder than words.”
“Well, same goes for you,” she counters. “If you let him go with her, without telling him how you feel, you’ll regret it. Trust me.”
I look down at my hands, twisting the fabric of my pillowcase. Macy’s right—if I don’t say something, I’ll always wonder what could’ve happened. But the thought of putting my heart on the line, knowing he might choose Maddie anyway?
Petrifying.
Macy huffs, grabbing my phone and tossing it into my lap.
“Just text him. Do it.”
The phone feels heavy, like Macy has handed me a grenade instead of a lifeline. I stare at the screen, fingers and thumbs twitching to type something. Right as I begin my message to Easton, there’s a knock on my bedroom door.
We both jump.
“Uh, come in,” I call out, exchanging looks with Macy.
My mom sticks her head in the door and my heart leaps into my throat. I’ve been avoiding her all day, hoping she won’t notice how obviously upset I am, and now here she is. I hope she doesn’t say anything in front of Macy.
The door creaks all the way open.
“Hey, girls.” Mom gazes around the room as if she’s half expecting more people to appear. Boys? From the closet, perhaps?
She clears her throat. “Macy, do you mind if I speak to Harper for a minute?”
She doesn’t step inside, instead waiting in the doorway, arms crossed in that way that makes me feel like I’m back in elementary school being scolded for coloring on the wall behind my bedroom door.