Perfectly Clueless

(A Bayfield High Romance Book 3)

By

Madeleine Labitan

Copyright

Copyright © 2018 by Madeleine Labitan

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

The characters in this book are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Dedication

To Kiara Charisse Rodriguez

Table of Contents

Copyright

Dedication

Table of Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Sneak Peak: Kiss and Make Up

About the Author

Truth or Dare

One

“McCafferty, where are you?” I growl, kicking at the stray rocks on the ground, shivering as the cold seeps through my jacket.

Fifteen minutes. That’s how long I’ve been sitting on my porch steps, braving the chilly night air while impatiently waiting for Dylan to arrive. He’s supposed to be here already. Hell, we should be on our way to the party by now. It’s an open field party and our friends, Nick Wilson and Sloan Collins, are already there waiting for us.

If I knew he was going to keep me waiting, I would have hitched a ride with Nick or asked my twin brother to drive me there.

Only Adam isn’t home. He’s at his girlfriend Madison Cooper’s house right now. Ever since the two of them got back together they haven’t spent a single time apart. Like they’re attached to the hip or something.

Blowing out an annoyed breath, I stare ahead. Still no sign of Dylan’s red pickup truck.

Seriously, where is that boy?

The front door suddenly opens, making me look over my shoulder to see who stepped outside.

It’s Dad. He’s wearing a robe over his pajamas, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. “Going somewhere, princess?”

Princess is Dad’s term of endearment for me, sport for Adam, and pumpkin for my little sister Peach. Whenever I complain about him calling me princess—because it seriously makes me feel like I’m five—he only smiles and tells me I’ll always be his princess no matter the age.

Corny, ugh. But also kinda sweet.

“Yes, Dad. I’m waiting for Dylan to pick me up. We’re going to meet a friend.”

He narrows his eyes. “Is that a code for party?”

Damn. The man knows me so well.

I flash him a sheepish smile. “I won’t stay up late. I promise.”

He shakes his head, fighting back a smile, then frowns when he stares out into the empty street. “You really need to have your own car.”

I bite back a groan. My dad has been itching to buy me a car ever since I got my license, but I say no every time. Because I find it completely unnecessary. All three of them—Mom, Dad and Adam—have cars that I can borrow whenever I need one, anyway. And that need rarely arises.

For one, Adam and I go to the same school so I can easily catch a ride with him if I want. Then there’s Dylan whose front passenger seat is always reserved for me. He’s my ride most days. And he’s usually never late.

Admonishing me to return before midnight, Dad goes back inside, leaving me alone in the porch again.

Come on, D. I’m already freezing here! I fire up the text, hoping it will make Dylan turn up in the next second.

Sorry, B. Look up.

I comply and sure enough, headlights assault my eyes. Finally. Pocketing my phone, I wait for him to pull over before I approach. “Did you really have to make me wait that long?”

I make sure to keep my expression stern, ignoring the familiar sucker-punch effect of his dark intense eyes and sheepish smile on me.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, B. I had to pick up Kristen first.”

Kristen who?

That’s when I see her. The girl sitting in the front passenger seat—my seat—beside Dylan.

“Hi, Bianca.” A shy smile grazes her lips as she lifts a hand to wave at me.

“Hey,” I blink and wordlessly climb into the backseat of the truck. Then stare hard at the back of her head.

I know this girl. She’s Kristen Stevenson, a senior like us. But what the ever-loving hell is she doing in Dylan’s truck? And in my seat? Why did he even pick her up?

It’s not like they run in the same circle. Kristen belongs to the popular crowd, although she’s not as popular as say, Madison or that backstabbing bitch Erin Taylor. But she’s one of them and she doesn’t socialize with other kids beneath her status.

Not that my friends and I are school outcasts. But we’re not exactly popular either. At best, we have notorious reputations. Dylan and Nick are known for being the resident “bad boys” while Sloan, in his desperate attempts to be like them, has earned the moniker “Sleazy Sloan.” Although I don’t think girls find him that repulsive. Not every girl, at least.

Me? I’m the “rocker chick” or the “goth bitch.” And, oh, “Adam’s emo twin.” Depends who you’re asking, really.

All because I decided to dye my blonde hair into dark brown, wear dark contacts to cover my baby blue eyes, and dress myself in dark clothes. Like right now, I’m rocking a black Nirvana shirt under my blazer and ripped blue jeans, paired with my favorite ankle boots.

People and their stupid stereotypes.

It’s not like I wear eyeliner or mascara. Or going around killing puppies and plotting mass murder.

Please. I scream like a little girl just at the sight of a flying cockroach. I mean, have you seen that thing up close? Nasty.

And newsflash: I’m not that different than the average teenage girls. I don’t do a lot of girly stuff anymore, but I’m just as obsessed with chick flicks and rom coms, fangirling over Ryan Reynolds even before he became Deadpool. I even took that stupid “Who’s your Hollywood Celebrity boyfriend?” quiz one time, hoping it would give me him.

I got Ryan Gosling. Close enough.

Girly giggles penetrate my wandering thoughts and I clear my head just enough to see Kristen kissing Dylan’s cheek.

My stomach churns. They’re hooking up. Of course. Why did I even think that he’s merely giving her a ride? How dumb.

Still, it begs the question: What’s a goody-goody girl like Kristen doing with Dylan?

What, is she suddenly tired of messing around with a fellow square and now looking to slum with a drape?

Well, spoiler alert. Dylan doesn’t own a motorcycle and he has a terrible singing voice. Plus he can’t shed a single tear.

I should know.

He tried.

The only similarity he has with Cry-Baby is that he sports black hair—not slicked back—and wears a jacket—not even leather. That’s it.

Besides, Kristen doesn’t do casual hookups. She’s a relationship kind of girl. And I know the type of guys she dates—jocks and preppy guys. Two weeks ago, I saw her making out with a guy from the baseball team in front of her locker. And a month before that, she was dating a soccer player.

Should I warn her? Because it’s not going to last long. I’ll give it a day or two before Dylan is done with her. She’ll be yesterday’s news then. That’s what always happens. Different day, different girl.

As for me, I’ll just try to ignore the pain of seeing him with another girl. I’m used to it.

Kristen glances at me over her shoulder. “Um, aren’t we going to tell her?”

I give her a blank stare. “Tell me what?”

“Dylan and I”—She slants Dylan a shy smile, biting her lip as if that shit is sexy. It’s not. She actually looks a little constipated—“We’re together now.”

“You mean you’re hooking up?” I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I can see that clearly. You don’t have to spell it out, Kristen.” Did she feel the need to rub it in my face?

My snide comment makes her cheeks flush. It’s clear I’ve annoyed her. Good. Because the feeling is mutual.

She huffs out a breath. “No, Bianca. Dylan and I are not hooking up. We’re together.”

I just blink at her, like she’s speaking a foreign language.

“As in I’m his girlfriend?”

She’s Dylan’s girlfriend? Well, guess what, the earth is flat. Nice try.

If there’s one thing everybody knows about Dylan is that he doesn’t do girlfriends. He hooks up with a lot of girls, yes. But be an actual boyfriend? No way in hell. Dude is totally allergic to commitment. It’s literally one of his life rules: “Thou shall not commit to anyone.”

And now this chick is telling me she’s his girlfriend? She has to be out of her damn mind if she thinks I’d believe that for a second.

“Yeah, right,” I snort. “Keep dreaming.”

But Dylan shatters that with his next words. “Kristen’s telling the truth, B. We’re not just hooking up. She’s my girlfriend.” He punctuates that declaration by giving Kristen a quick kiss on the lips.

What? My mouth falls open, deafening silence ringing through my ears.

Dylan, the boy who’s never been a fan of dating and committed relationships, has a girlfriend.

Dylan, my best friend who has absolutely no idea that I’m completely, madly head-over-boots in love with him, is now someone else’s boyfriend.

Until now I’ve never known how it feels to have my heart ripped out of my chest and broken in pieces. I thought it was just a dramatic metaphor people use freely. Boy, was I wrong.

Swallowing the sudden bile in my throat, I force out a smile. “Cool.”

But inside? I’m dying.

Two

“Dude, I’m telling you it was goddamn epic. You should’ve seen it.” Sloan is drunkenly relaying a story to me and Nick while he downs his red cup.

What the story is all about exactly I can’t remember. Because my attention is elsewhere. It’s focused on the couple on the other side of the bonfire, who look and act like they are the only people in the party.

Dylan has a girlfriend.

I still can’t freaking wrap my head around it. How can a guy go from having a no-relationship rule to having a girlfriend in a matter of days?

Did Kristen trick him into drinking a love potion? Because that’s the only explanation I can think of.

“She wasn’t even on his radar,” I mutter.

“Who’s not on whose radar?” Sloan runs a hand through his unruly mop of dirty blonde hair and follows the direction of my gaze. “Are you talking about them? Dudette, that chick has been on D’s radar for weeks. He wanted to hook up with her in forever.”

“What?” I stare at him, stunned. How did I not know that?

I turn to Nick, but he’s earnestly avoiding my gaze. Oh he knows, too.

But how come they both know and I don’t? When it comes to Dylan, I’m always the first to know. We’re best friends, for God’s sake. Suddenly, I’m out of the loop?

And why didn’t Nick tell me anything? He’s well aware of my feelings for Dylan. I accidentally confessed to him about it one time at a party when I got pissed drunk and the words just came tumbling out of my mouth.

I glare at him.

“I thought you knew.”

“Well, obviously, I didn’t,” I scowl. Then whisper to myself, “He didn’t even mention her to me in passing.”

Dylan isn’t a kiss-and-tell kind of guy. But he’s always been open about every girl he’s hooking up with. It’s hard to keep it a secret when he’s often making out with those girls right in front of me.

Like right now.

Still, I can’t take my eyes off of them. I feel like a voyeur and a masochist at the same time. I also feel like puking my guts out right here and now, since I’m a little lightheaded. Even though I’m pretty sure I barely had two cups of booze.

“What did he even see in her?”

Sloan gives me a funny look. “Are you blind or something, dudette? Kristen’s hot.”

“Shut up, man,” Nick chides him, giving me a sideways glance.

“What? It’s true.” Sloan shrugs.

I can’t blame him for being casual about it. It’s not like he knows about my feelings for Dylan. He doesn’t and it’s going to stay that way. Sloan tends to have a loose tongue when drunk or stoned. And right now he’s three sheets to the wind. He’s literally one cup away from spilling every secret he ever knew.

Nick learned that lesson the hard way when he stupidly mentioned he’d hooked up with the Bennett twins on the same day without the two of them knowing. He blurted that out to a sober Sloan last year. Then a few months ago at a party, a drunk Sloan asked Carla point blank if she ever felt weird about it. Needless to say, Nick went home with a sore cheek that night.

But as much as I hate to admit it, Sloan’s right. Kristen is gorgeous. With her long, silky blonde hair, perfectly made-up face and pretty cotton dress, you’d think she’s hitting the mall instead of a lame-ass party outside Edward Jones’s family farm.

Yes, she’s hot—gag—but it doesn’t make her the right girl for my best friend. She’s too much of a...good girl for him.

No, Dylan needs someone who can match his overbearing personality. Someone who can go toe to toe with him. Someone who’s not afraid to put him in his place when he’s being an asshole.

Someone like me.

But he doesn’t want you.

And isn’t that the goddamn truth? If there’s a poster child for best friend unrequited love, it’s me. The girl who’s been secretly pining for her best friend since they were kids, hoping he’d eventually see her. Downright pathetic.

Although, in my defense, it’s technically not a secret. I did confess my feelings for him. Once, freshman year, while we were watching a movie in my family room. I can’t even remember the name of the movie anymore. For some crazy reason, I decided it was the best place and time to blurt out my feelings for him. I told him I’m in love with him and guess what he did? He literally laughed in my face. Like I just shared a very funny joke.

Long story short, that was the first and the last time I came clean about my feelings.

I mean, come on. What if I find another courage to confess and he doesn’t believe it and laughs at me again? I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it the second time around. The first time was already bad enough.

So I’ll just have to endure the fact that Dylan sees me as one of the guys. That he doesn’t return my feelings. That I’m very much trapped in the friendzone with no way out.

If I have to start putting on makeup and wearing girly skirts and cute dresses for him to notice me, then screw that. I won’t give up my personal style and change who I am just to get a guy to like me. Even if that guy is Dylan. He’ll just need to learn to want me for being myself.

My eyes flicker toward their direction again and the sight makes my stomach churn. Seriously? They’re making out again?

And, still, I can’t pry my eyes away. Hell, maybe I really am a masochist.

“Stop torturing yourself, B.”

I drag my gaze away from Dylan and Kristen to glare at Nick. “Can you say that a little louder?”

He chuckles. “Relax, it’s just the two of us. Sloan is already over there charming the ladies.”

True enough, Sloan is out there dancing in the middle of Holly Montgomery and Amanda Hall.

“Why don’t you join him? You’re better off enjoying yourself than keeping me company. Don’t mind me. I’m all good with my bud here.” I raise my half-full red cup lamely.

“You know I don’t dance,” he scoffs.

No, he doesn’t. Nick just plays the guitar. But there’s nothing “just” about it. The boy is freaking good with the instrument that girls go crazy over him whenever he plays. Sometimes, we even jam together. I sing while he strums on his guitar.

It probably doesn’t hurt that he’s got the looks—curly brown hair, green eyes, muscled six-four frame—to match his wicked guitar skills. The countless stares he’s been getting just the past hour alone only prove that. The attention toward him even doubles, now that Dylan is officially “unavailable.”

Yeah, my sickeningly-smitten best friend is already introducing Kristen as his girl to everyone.

Scowling, I take a long pull of the booze until my cup turns empty. “I need a refill,” I announce, then pull myself up from the grass, almost stumbling in the process. Is the place spinning or what?

“Whoa, are you drunk?”

Nick moves to stand but I wave him off. “I’m cool. Be right back.”

I make my way through the dancing crowd, my eyes zeroing in on the keg. I lick my lips. The night is young and so am I.

Putting my cup under the tap, I thump my feet in time with the beat of the Maroon 5 song. Damn. Now, I feel like dancing.

Taking a swig of my drink, I’m about to join in on the crowd when someone steps in my path and steals the cup from me. “Hey—”

“You’ve had enough.”

Of course. I look up and meet the scowl of my best friend.

Dylan is just as tall as Nick. I stand at five-eight—five-nine on a good day—so I have to crane my neck to meet his gaze. His pissed off gaze.

I roll my eyes and reach for my cup, but he evades my hand. “Seriously?”

He tips my chin up and examine my face, disapproval lacing his tone. “You’re drunk.”

I slap his hand away. “Shut up. I’m not drunk.” Only the words end up sounding a little slurred.

My eyes snap shut. I am drunk. How the hell did that happen? Last I checked, I was only on my second cup. Or was it the third or fourth and I just didn’t notice?

Shit.

“Let me take you home.”

I shake my head, making myself nauseous. “No. Nick will take me home.”

“Like hell he will,” Dylan snaps. “You’re not riding in his bike in that condition. You’re going to fall off.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” I sneer, poking his chest with my finger. “Why don’t you go back to your girlfriend and leave me alone, huh? I’m sure miss goody-two shoes is already biting her nails worrying you got lost.”

His expression softens. “Are you mad at me, B? Is that what this is about? Because of Kristen?”

Yes, you idiot!

I bite back that retort and force out a laugh. “Of course not. Why would I be mad at you? You got a girlfriend. Big deal. Who cares? It’s not like there were no other girls before she came into the picture.

“I mean, you and Nick were constantly outdoing each other in the numbers department. Two girls a week minimum, right?” I end my sentence with a conspiratorial wink.

“Bianca.”

“Sorry,” I hiccup. “Did I offend you?” I don’t even sound apologetic at all. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Kristen. Although it would be stupid of her not to know. You weren’t exactly being secretive about your hookups.”

I’m being bitchier than usual. I should stop while I’m ahead. But I can’t help myself. The alcohol in my system is making me spew venomous words. Like it’s goading me to hurt him the way he hurt me.

Dylan closes his eyes, his jaw clenched tight, as if he’s reaching for patience.

A flicker of guilt stabs at my chest. I know I’m being unfair. It’s not like he’s purposely hurting my feelings. He hasn’t any clue I’m hopelessly in love with him. He’s perfectly clueless.

I run a hand through my hair. “You know what? I’m sorry. Just ignore what I said. I’m gonna go back to Nick now. Don’t bother looking for me later. Like I said, I’ll just ride with him.”

“Don’t be a stubborn-ass, B. I’ll be the one to take you home. And we’re going now. Kristen will just have to catch a ride with her friends.” He grabs my hand and starts to pull me toward him.

That’s when I feel it.

I’m gonna pull a Cady Heron.

Shit.

No sooner than I thought that, I bend over and vomit the contents of my stomach all over his shoes.

“For fuck’s sake.”

Way to end the night, Bianca.

Three

I hate hangovers. They're a humongous pain in the ass.

I don’t always get drunk so I rarely end up suffering from hangovers—last night was maybe the third time I’ve ever been wasted—but right now it feels like I’m having the worst of the worst. I swear, it’s like someone is splitting my head wide open with a sledgehammer over and over.

As much as I’d like to blame Dylan for giving me the case of the worst hangover, I can’t. If there’s anyone to blame, it’s me. I let my misery get the better of me. And for what? It still didn’t change the fact that Dylan has a girlfriend.

Massaging my temples and grumbling to myself, I get out of bed and pad gingerly toward the bathroom. After relieving my bladder, which was already close to bursting, I squint at my slightly blurry reflection in the mirror, taking in my appearance.

My otherwise round-shaped hazel eyes look like that of Peaches’s after she had a major tantrum. And my long dark brown hair is in complete disarray, some of it literally sticking in every direction.

Ugh. I look like shit.

"This is on you, Bianca." I give the mirror a dark scowl, then wash my face and wrestle my bird's nest of a hair into a ponytail.

There. Now I look halfway decent. Sort of. Now, where's that aspirin?

Head still pounding, I step back into my room and blindly look for the glasses I hadn’t worn in over a year. I don’t think my eyes can take wearing contacts today.

Sliding them onto my face, I grab my phone from the nightstand and head downstairs. When my eyes find the time on the screen, I groan. It’s already past noon.

No, that’s actually a good thing. Mom and Dad aren’t home at this time of the day. Which means no one’s around to lecture me about staying out late and partying like I’m twenty-one. To think I promised my dad I’d get home before midnight. Did I even make true to that promise? I honestly can’t remember.

But when I reach the kitchen it’s not empty. Adam’s there.

He smirks when he sees me. “Well, hello there, sleepyhead.”

I flip him off and move for the bathroom to get aspirin from the medicine cabinet.

“Long night, huh?” Adam is leaning against the galley, watching me wash down the aspirin with water.

“Spare me the lecture.”

He folds his arms over his chest. “That’s kind of hard to do when you got home passed out and Dylan had to carry you to your room.”

I go still. Dylan had to carry me to my room? “I passed out?”

I try to recall that moment from last night, but the last thing I remember was puking all over Dylan’s shoes. Which was seriously gross. Then...nothing. But I clearly remember the hurtful words I hurled at him.

“Oh, God.” I close my eyes and slap my forehead.

“What?”

“I was such a bitch to him last night.”

“Aren’t you always?” The casual way he says it makes me want to strangle him.

But then my eyes widen. “Did Mom and Dad see me like that last night?”

“Lucky for you, no. I was the only one awake. They were sound asleep. Which was a good thing. Otherwise you’d be grounded for the whole weekend.”

“Definitely a good thing.” I smile at my twin. “Thanks, Ad.”

“Eh, you’d do the same for me.”

I so would have. Our parents, especially Mom, can be hard on us whenever we screw up. Nagging lectures, unlimited household chores, strict home-and-school routine, etcetera. Definitely not fun.

My stomach grumbles, interrupting our conversation.

Adam laughs.

I make a face. “I think I’m gonna head out. I’m suddenly craving for pizza and milkshake.” I pause for a second. “Are you going somewhere? Can I borrow your car?”

Adam shrugs. “You can take it. Maddie’s coming over later, anyway.”

“Weren’t you just with her last night?”

He blinks. “Yeah. What’s your question?”

“Aren’t you sick of each other yet?”

“No.”

“Right.” I roll my eyes, then empty my water glass. “Later.”

Walking out of the kitchen, I almost bump into my four-year old sister who’s barreling in my direction. “Hey, Peach.”

“Bee!” She wraps her little arms around my waist, hugging me tight. “Where have you been? You weren’t here last night.” The corner of her adorable lips are downturned.

I run my hand through her hair. “I was out with friends, Peach.”

Her brows knit together. “With Dylan?”

“Uh-huh. And Nick and Sloan, too.”

“Did you have fun?”

No, I didn’t, sis. “Of course.”

Deciding she’s done with me, Peaches hugs me one last time then runs into the kitchen.

Smiling after her, I make my way back into my room for a much-needed bath. Pizza’s waiting.

An hour later and I’m walking through the doors of Todd’s Pizza—a.k.a. the best pizza place in town. It’s owned by its namesake Todd Wilson, who happens to be Nick’s dad.

I settle into an empty booth by the window, my mouth watering from the delicious pizza aroma wafting in the air.

“Hey, what can I get you?” I glance up to see El Mitchell, Nick’s cousin and Principal Mitchell’s daughter, holding up a pen and a notepad.

I stare at the pink highlights on her hair, momentarily distracted. Wasn’t she just rocking gray highlights a week ago?

“Bianca? Hello?” She waves a hand in front of my face.

“Right.” I blink and pick up the menu on the table, although already knowing what I’m going to order. “I’d like strawberry milkshake and double cheese pizza—medium.” I pause, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. “On second thought, make it a two large and to-go. And can you throw in some fries?” I’m not going to eat alone.

“Gotcha.” El nods her head as she jots down my order.

When she walks away, I take out my phone and type a text to Dylan. I owe him a thank you and an apology.

Hey, you home?

I figure I’ll take the pizza over to him if he’s home. If he’s not, I’m sure Adam and Maddy and Peach will appreciate the afternoon snack.

Wait. What if Kristen is at his place? I’m not in the mood to invite her to my pizza party.

I’m about to text Dylan again when my phone pings with a message.

Dylan: At the shop with Dad. Y?

If he’s at his Dad’s auto shop, then it means he’s helping out with customer repairs. Which, in turn, means Kristen isn’t anywhere near him.

What is she going to do there, anyway? Leer at him while he work?

Admittedly, that’s my M.O. whenever I come to hang out on the shop. It’s his fault for being hot even while covered in grease.

Don’t judge.

Grinning to myself, I send a response. Be there in twenty.

Four

Just like I suspected, Kristen is nowhere to be found when I get to the shop. It’s just Dylan and his dad Walter, plus a few mechanics in the garage, working on different vehicles.

The guys glance up when they sense my presence and let out wolf whistles when they see the pizza boxes and bag of fries in my hands.

Harold, one of the mechanics, even calls out, “Girl, are those for us?”

“Just the one,” I laugh, handing over a box.

“Is this some kind of a bribe?” Dylan cocks up a brow as he approaches—looking sexy as usual in coveralls—and wipes his greasy hands from a towel before taking the other box from me.

“Are you complaining?” I fish out a fry from the paper bag and pop it into my mouth.

“Hell no,” he snorts, opening the box and taking out a slice.

“Language, son,” Walter chides, walking over to us. Then to me he smiles warmly, “Hi ya, kid.”

“Hey, Walt. Busy day?”

“You can say that.” He scratches his nose, smudging grease over it, and stands next to his son to get his own slice of pizza.

I watch the two of them side by side. Walter looks exactly the older version of Dylan. They have the same dark eyes, same prominent nose. He’s also just as tall as his son. And their hair even sport the same classic crew cut. Only difference is that while Dylan’s is jet black, Walter is rocking gray hair. But he sure looks fit for someone who’s nearing fifty. Dylan only needs to look at his father to know what he’ll look like when he gets older.

My stomach grumbles again, reminding me I haven’t eaten my share yet.

Smirking, Dylan hands me a slice.

“Thanks.” I take it, pretending not to feel the tingles that spark across my skin when his hand brushes against mine.

“Okay, I’ll leave you two to it.” Grabbing another slice of pizza, Walter taps Dylan on the back and winks at me before walking away.

I pretend not to see that. I don’t know if he has any idea about my feelings for his son, but Walter is always hinting that he wants us to be together. And he’s not even ashamed to hide it. I wonder if he has already met Kristen or if he knows about her at all.

“How are you feeling?” Dylan’s question brings my attention back to him. “No hangover?”

Huh. Come to think of it, the splitting headache is already gone.

“I took an aspirin.” The milkshake I consumed on the drive over probably also helped. I grimace. “Did I really puke on your shoes?”

“Yep,” he nods, keeping his face straight.

My grimace deepens. So gross. “Sorry about that. Adam told me you carried me to my room so, uh, thanks. But you could’ve woken me up.”

Although I can’t help but feel a little warm inside at the mental image of me in his arms. If only I was awake to savor the moment.

“I didn’t have it in me to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”

Peaceful? Yeah, right. I was probably even drooling while he carried me. Ugh.

A hazy memory flashes through my mind. “Did you leave Kristen at the party when you drove me home?”

“Yeah.” He rakes a hand through his already unruly hair. “I made her catch a ride with her friends.”

I almost choke on my pizza. “I bet she wasn’t happy with you.”

His lips twitch. “She still isn’t.”

“Why her, D? And since when did you do girlfriends?” I can’t help blurting out.

He studies my features. “You don’t like her.”

No shit.

“I don’t like a lot of people,” I deflect.

“And Kristen is one of those people.”

Only because of you, I want to scream.

“I don’t even know her enough to not like her. It’s just,” I put down the half-eaten pizza back on the box and let out a shaky breath. “I was surprised, you know? I’m your best friend and yet I hadn’t any clue about her. Nick and Sloan knew, but I didn’t.” I can’t even cover the hurt in my voice.

“Shit. Sorry, B. I didn’t mean to make you feel left out. I just wanted to be sure that I really wanted to pursue a relationship with Kristen before I tell you. It was only yesterday that it became official.”

I ignore the pain lancing my chest. “But why her? She’s not even your usual type.”

Dylan tends to go for the slutty ones. The ones he knows won’t act all needy toward him. Girls who know the real score. What made him go for someone different like Kristen?

“She’s hot,” he shrugs.

“That’s it? You won’t even say things like ‘There’s something about her, B. She’s special,’” I mock in a deep voice. “That’s real romantic, D. Don’t try to be poetic or anything.”

He smirks. “You know I’m not the romantic type.”

“So, what? She’s just like the other girls, only with a label?” Tell me you’re going to dump her next week.

“No. She’s really my girlfriend. I’m serious about her. I like her a lot.”

Ouch. Way to drive the knife deeper, Dylan. “So, I guess she’s really special, huh? That’s great. I’m happy for you.” It’s a miracle my voice doesn’t crack.

As if to see through me, he says softly. “You didn’t look happy last night.”

I swallow hard, averting my gaze. “Oh, that. It was nothing. I was just being stupidly jealous that you now have a girlfriend and I still don’t. Have a boyfriend that is. Silly, right?” I force out a laugh. “Anyway, now I’m thinking maybe it’s time to pop that cherry, you know?”

He’s sipping from a water bottle so my words make him choke on his drink.

A slight blush creeps across my cheeks and I quickly cover it up with a joke. “Dude, I didn’t mean it that way.”

Not that I really meant what I said. I was just rambling to throw him off.

“Is there a guy you’re not telling me about?” The sudden edge in his voice gets my attention.

“Maybe?”

His brows draw together. “Is that a question?”

I just shrug and shovel the rest of my pizza into my mouth, not caring about the crumbs falling everywhere. I may be in love with my best friend, but I never act ladylike in front of him. Why start now?

“Just tell me. Are you dating someone?”

I roll my eyes. Why won’t he drop the subject? “I just literally told you I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“But you’re eyeing someone?”

“Dude, seriously, what’s with the twenty questions? There’s no guy, okay? Geez.”

“Good.”

Good? And why does he look relieved? But he doesn’t give me the chance to clarify that. “Hey, you’re not wearing contacts.”

“Yeah. My eyes hurt a little, so I decided to skip wearing them today.”

He takes a step closer then, invading my personal space. His fingers touch my chin, tipping my face up a little, and murmurs. “I just realized I missed staring at your eyes. Your real eyes. They’re gorgeous, B. You shouldn’t hide them under your contacts all the time.”

“Don’t be an idiot.” I elbow him on the stomach to hide the fact that butterflies are doing a conga line in my stomach.

“What?” he chuckles, stepping back. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Whatever, McCafferty.”

He opens his mouth to respond when the sound of a ringing phone interrupts our conversation, distracting him. Pulling it out of the pocket of his coveralls, he stares at the screen. “It’s Kristen. I gotta answer this.”

Faking a smile, I watch him lighten up and murmur a soft “hey” into his phone as he walks away, his attention no longer on me.

Just how long am I going to torture myself?

Five

I’m nodding my head, mouthing the lyrics to Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door by Guns N’ Roses as Mr. Anderson drones on with his lecture in Government.

He literally doesn’t pay attention to us during class and mostly talk to the book on his hands, so we get away with a lot of things. While I have my earphones on and listening to music, my classmates are either talking among themselves or tinkering with their phones.

Like what El is doing on my right. Judging from how fast her fingers are going, she’s playing a mobile game again. She does that a lot.

I mostly use the time to chill and listen to my Spotify playlists. Call it a cliché, but music never fails to calm me. It’s like a balm to my soul. If I can, I’ll be listening to music every damn time.

When the song ends, I press pause and scroll through the playlist, looking for the next one. I’m about to hit play when I hear soft giggles coming from the seats near the front of the class.

Looking up, I scowl when I see that it’s Kristen.

She’s giggling at something on her phone. Twenty bucks say she’s texting with Dylan.

And here I thought I left their nauseating PDA at the cafeteria, where I spent nearly an hour shooting daggers at them from across the room. Nick even had to pry a fork from my tight grip. Now I have to endure it in class, too?

I have a class with Dylan later. Am I going to see him giggling at his phone, too? Gag.

I bang my fist on the desk, accidentally sending my pen clambering to the floor. Muttering a curse, I bend down to pick it up but a hand beats me to it.

“You dropped this?” a male voice with a British accent speaks.

Straightening up, I meet the amused gaze of Rohan Mallick.

He’s British-Indian who moved from London to Bayfield just right before junior year started. Since we don’t get a lot of new students, Rohan is still known as the “new kid” in school. Or the “new hot British kid,” if you’re asking the female population.

I’m not a part of that population, but I can agree that he’s easy on the eyes. He has thick wavy black hair and equally dark eyes that crinkle at the corners. He doesn’t smile often, but when he does it lightens up his face. It also gives him quite the mysterious vibe, especially when despite being popular, he mostly keeps to himself. His dark tanned skin, courtesy of his Indian heritage, only adds up to his appeal.

So I can understand why some girls are going the extra mile—to the point of embarrassing themselves—just to get his attention. I mean it’s hilariously cringe-worthy, but I get it.

I snatch the pen from his hand and mutter a quiet thanks.

He gives me a tight-lipped smile, then focuses his attention on the front.

Huh. He’s seriously listening to the lecture?  Everyone knows Mr. Anderson is just reading every word in the book out loud. He doesn’t really contribute anything new to the lecture.

So if we want to pass his tests, all we have to do is simply read the book. Basically, students only come to his class for attendance.

Principal Mitchell doesn’t really interfere with his method of teaching. Probably because Mr. Anderson is rumored to be retiring next year. He’s, what, nearing eighty now? Although he always claims that he’s only seventy years old.

Can’t say I blame the guy. I’d probably do the same when I reach his age.

When the bell rings, I shuffle out of the room with the rest of the class, yawning. Man, I can’t wait to go home and sleep the afternoon away in my bed.

But my drowsiness disappears when I step out into the hall just in time to see Dylan greeting Kristen with his lips.

I look away quickly, pretending not to see it.

But not quick enough for El who’s apparently right next to me and staring at them, too. “I’ve wondered what he saw in someone like her. She doesn’t look like his usual type.”

“She’s a girl. That makes her his type.”

She scrunches up her nose. “Yeah. But he usually goes for—”

“The slutty type?”

She chokes out a strangled laugh. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you were thinking it,” I say dryly. My eyes dart back to them. Now they’re lovingly staring at each other’s eyes.

Kill me now.

Dylan chooses the moment to lift his gaze and it connects with mine. His eyes soften even more, if that’s possible. “Hey, B.”

“Hey,” I nod, schooling my expression.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

I glance down at their clasped fingers. Yeah, no. “Go ahead. I already have a ride.”

Dylan frowns. “With who?”

My mind races with a quick answer. “With El. She’s going to give me a ride.”

“I am?” El sounds puzzled. But thankfully, she covers it up by clearing her throat. “I mean, yeah I am. We’re going to have a slumber party at Bianca’s place later.”

What the hell? I stare hard at her, but she’s not looking at me so she can’t see my warning glare.

Dylan smirks at me. “Really, huh? Are you going to braid each other’s hair and paint each other’s toes?”

The asshole knows I don’t do those girly shit. So I surprise him by agreeing with El, even though I’m currently imagining myself putting duct tape on her mouth. “Yes. We’re going to do all that and more.”

“You’re going to have a slumber party?” Kristen interjects, unfortunately reminding me of her presence. “That sounds so fun. I haven’t been in one in forever.” The wistful tone in her voice is evident.

So evident, in fact, that El decides to invite her along. “You can come too, if you want.”

“Oh, I’d love to.” Kristen gives me a shy look. “I mean if Bianca doesn’t mind.”

Oh, she’s gotta be shitting me.

But she’s not. She’s staring at me expectantly, waiting for my answer.

God help me, I’m so tempted to say no. But if I tell her there’s really no sleepover, Dylan will want to know why El and I lied. Then he’ll figure out I lied because I don’t want to ride home with him and Kristen. He’ll ask why. And that’s one question I’d rather avoid.

So I grit my teeth and force a smile. “Sure, why not? The more the merrier, right?”

Kristen squeals in excitement, lifting their joined hands. Dylan just gives her an indulgent smile, then raises a brow at me.

I can practically hear him asking, Are you sure about this, B?

I whip my head toward the culprit. This is her goddamned fault in the first place. All she had to do was nod along to my lie. But no, she had to ramble on.

El just shrugs, as if to say, What did you want me to do?

Well, how about you leave all the talking to me next time?

Six

“I can’t believe you’re legit having a slumber party right now.” Adam is chuckling when I walk into the kitchen to get some refreshments.

Refreshments. Ugh.

“You and me both.” I open the cupboard and scowl at the snacks inside, before taking three large bags of chips and depositing them into the tray on the table. Then I go to the fridge to get the pack of coke cans El and I bought from the convenience store earlier. Which she paid for out of guilt.

She sure doesn’t look guilty now. Girl is immensely enjoying herself. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she planned this slumber party all along.

“Hey, thanks again for letting me borrow your girlfriend.”

I asked Madison to join us because someone has to play nice with Kristen, and it certainly isn’t going to be me. Although El seems to have no trouble being nice to her as well. You’d think they’ve been friends forever.

“Don’t mention it. Although I should probably be a little pissed at you for stealing my girl’s attention away from me. But she seems to be enjoying herself.”

I snort. “Trust me, she is. She’s literally braiding Kristen’s hair up there while El is applying nail polish on her toes. I swear it’s like having a royal makeover inside my room right now.”

“Sounds fun,” Adam snickers.

I flip him off as I walk out of the kitchen with the snacks, his laughter ringing well after me. As expected, El and Madison are still not done tending to “Her Majesty” when I step back into my room.

Forcing a sugary smile, I announce my presence. “Care for some snacks, ladies?”

And like a damn princess, Kristen claps her hands together.

Seriously, is she for real?

While my three new besties munch on the snacks, I sneak in a text to Nick who, I know, is currently hanging out with Dylan and Sloan. Probably smoking some joints or playing video games. Or both.

HELP ME! I’M STUCK IN GIRLY PURGATORY!

Nick: Why the hell did you even host one in the first place?

Me: Blame El! It’s her damn fault.

Nick: I don’t know about that, B. I’m pretty sure you asked me and Sloan to have a sleepover a few weeks ago.

Me: Like hell I did.

Nick: Yeah, you did. Have fun. Tell us all the deets tomorrow. Or maybe not. The asshole even attached a laughing emoji at the end of the message.

“You’re not helping,” I growl at the screen.

“Who’s not helping?” Maddie sits next to me on the couch.

“No one.” I pocket my phone. “Are you two done making Kristen pretty?”

She raises a brow at my sarcastic remark, but doesn’t call me out. “Are you going to tell me why you decided to host an impromptu slumber party? I’m assuming it’s not because you’re suddenly in need of a girl bonding time.”

“Ugh. It’s a long story.”

“She’s nice, you know. Once you got to know her better.” She glances across the room, where El and Kristen are giggling at a magazine.

It’s one of those fashion magazines Kristen brought along with her. Why she even thought to bring them I have no idea. But clearly, El is enjoying them.

“Yeah, she is,” I admit grudgingly.

Kristen turning out to be nice only makes the whole thing worse. Because how can you hate someone who’s nice? Not that I hate her. But I also don’t want to like her.

It doesn’t matter that she doesn’t know that I’m in love with Dylan. Or that Dylan wasn’t even my boyfriend before she came into the picture. She took the one person I’ve always wanted. And that should be enough for me to hate her or, at the very least, dislike her.

But I don’t. I can’t find myself to.

But it doesn’t mean that we’re going to be best friends any time soon. Not when she’s still dating Dylan and not when I’m still in love with him. And there are still probably going to be times when I’ll act all bitchy toward her out of jealousy. That can’t be helped.

“Thanks again for coming here and doing this,” I tell Maddie.

“Well, technically I’m already here when you sent the distress call.”

I laugh, remembering how I sounded when I called Adam on the way home. “I sounded really panicky, didn’t I?”

She puts her fingers close together. “Just a little bit.”

We both snicker.

“Hey, guys, wanna do something fun?” El calls out to us. Apparently, they’re done gushing over the magazine.

“Aren’t we already having fun?” I say sarcastically, earning a soft elbow poke from Maddie.

El rolls her eyes at me. “You know what I mean.”

“Actually, I don’t,” I mumble.

Maddie decides to interject. “What do you have in mind?”

Something like mischief gleams in El’s eyes. “We’re going to have a blind makeover game.”

“What the hell is a blind makeover game?” I ask just as Maddie exclaims, “Oh, I’m so in!”

It’s Kristen who gives the answer. “Have you ever watched those YouTube videos where girls make their boyfriends put makeup on their faces while blindfolded? That’s what we’re going to do.”

I scowl. “That doesn’t sound fun at all.”

Besides, I don’t have a boyfriend. Who’s going to do mine?

Her smile only widens. “That’s why we’re going to put a twist on it. We’ll pair up and all of us will put blindfolds on—no boyfriend needed. Then each pair will put makeup on each other’s face at the same time.”

“I don’t know, Kristen. That seems like a recipe for disaster. I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t want to end up being accidentally stabbed in the eyes by a mascara or whatever.” Throwing my hands up, I scowl. “I don’t even own any makeup.”

I only have that one lip gloss Mom insisted on buying for me a month ago. And I barely even use it.

“Oh, we’re not going to use anything sharp. For the eyes, we’ll just settle on eyeshadow brushes. And don’t worry about the makeup. I brought plenty for us to use.” Kristen walks over to the oversized bag she brought with her and pulls out what looks to be a professional makeup kit. Putting it down in front of me, she opens it and reveals what I’m sure is more than a thousand worth of makeup paraphernalia.

I glance up at her. “Are you, by any chance, a professional makeup artist?”

She giggles. “No. I’m just kind of a makeup hoarder.”

I look down and choke out a laugh. “You don’t say.”

Twenty minutes later and I’m staring at my haphazardly made-up face in the mirror. “I look like someone who had been trampled on in a One Direction concert.”

Kristen stands next to me. “Aren’t they already disbanded?”

“Who cares?” I stare at her reflection and burst out laughing. “I didn’t think it would be possible, but you look worse than me.”

While her dark blonde hair looks impeccable with the braids, her face looks like something straight out of a nightmare. Like she was beaten to a bloody pulp or something. Even the Annabelle doll would be afraid of her.

“I know, right?” She giggles. “Too bad it’s not Halloween.”

El pokes her head between us. “Bitch, tell me I’m pretty.”

“Wow,” I deadpan. “You look like a zombified Harley Quinn.”

“Right? That was totally the look I was going for.” Kristen gives a smug self-satisfied look for what she did.

Madison—who did my makeup—stands on my other side, looking just as ridiculous as the three of us. “We should do this more often.”

“You’re welcome,” I snicker.

A wicked glint crosses her eyes. “Think I can sneak up on Adam and scare the heck out of him?”

I laugh. “I bet he would pee his pants.”

“Adam Hayes peeing in his pants?” Kristen wiggles her brows. “I’d pay to see that.”

“Ew,” I grimace. “That’s my twin we’re talking about.”

The four of us burst into peals of laughter.

“Let’s do it. All of us,” El decides excitedly when our laughter subsides.

A slow smirk makes its way across my face. “He’s probably sleeping by now.”

Maddie nods. “With the lights closed.”

Kristen bites back a laugh. “We’ll sneak into his room quietly.”

“Wait!” They start to walk out of the room while I jog to my vanity dresser. Opening the top drawer, I grab my handy flashlight. “We’ll need this.”

El rubs her hands together. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

Laughing under our breaths, we make our way out the hall toward my brother’s room, careful not to wake my parents and little sister. They can’t spoil our fun.

Maddie carefully opens the door to a pitch-black room, taking a peek to see if Adam is already asleep. “I think we’re all clear,” she whispers to us.

Trying hard not to laugh, we all pile inside, carefully closing the door behind us.

I spy something on the floor. Grabbing it and realizing it’s a shoe, I throw it on Adam’s head to wake him up.

“Ouch. That’s gotta hurt,” Kristen mutters.

“Huh? Who’s there? What’s going on?” A sleepy-sounding Adam sits on the bed.

That’s when El turns on the flashlight, illuminating our faces showing sinister smiles.

Maddie amps up the creepy atmosphere by speaking in a soft voice. “Hi, baby. Did we wake you up?”

Adam lets out a high-pitched, ear splitting girly scream that lasts longer than it should, sending the four of us laughing hysterically on the floor.

“What the hell?” The light from the bedside lamp comes on.

“We…You…” I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t stop myself from laughing.

And the other girls are just as bad. Kristen is clutching her stomach. Maddie has her head thrown back. El is slamming her fist over and over on the floor beside her.

Adam glares. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“No,” Kristen manages to blurt out in between laughter. “Just trying to make you pee in your pants.”

That only makes us laugh harder, especially when Adam growls in anger.

A moment later, the door to his room opens.

“What happened? We heard screaming. Is everything okay?” Dad stands on the doorway, concern written on his face.

“That was Adam’s girly scream,” I choke out.

When he sees us on the floor, he blinks in confusion. “What on earth are you girls doing down there? And what’s that on your faces?”

Our laughter is the only response we can offer.

“Kids.” He shakes his head, his lips twitching before reminding us it’s time for bedtime and closing the door.

Adam, on the other hand, doesn’t share our humor. He looks absolutely pissed off when he yells, “That’s it. Out. Now!”

“We’re going. We’re going.” Saluting him, I lead the girls out of the room.

“Did you think he peed his pants?” Kristen whispers as we go out.

El shrugs. “I don’t know. But his girly scream was epic.”

“And I’m not going to let him live it down,” Maddie giggles.

Unsurprisingly, we burst out laughing again. And it grows louder once again when Adam slams his door shut, obviously hearing the conversation.

As we go back to my room, still laughing and talking among ourselves, I admit to myself that this slumber party is the best one I’ve ever had.

Seven

“So, how was the sleepover?” I almost jump out of my skin at the gruff voice near my ear.

Closing my locker and whirling around, my forehead bumps with Dylan’s jaw. I glare up at him. “Did you really have to sneak up on me?”

He just smirks down at me. “Since when did you get jumpy?”

I ignore him, hoisting my bag higher on my shoulder. “The sleepover turned out great.”

It was more than great. It had been awesome. Who knew I’d have fun at a slumber party? The last one I had was years ago back in ninth grade when I was forced by my mom to go even though I wasn’t even friends with the other girls who came. I got bored and ended up sneaking out early in the morning.

But last night… Last night had been a lot of fun. After we scared the crap out of my twin, we went back to my room and binge-watched movies on Netflix, sleeping at around three in the morning.

I let out a yawn, my body reminding me that I didn’t get enough sleep the night before. Eh, it was worth it.

“I’m glad you and Kristen are getting along,” Dylan tells me. “She likes you.”

“She does, huh?” I can’t even infuse sarcasm into my voice.

Because the truth is I’m starting to like Kristen. After I had the chance to hang out with her last night, I realized she's not so bad.

We're not going to be best friends any time soon. Or ever. But I can't bring myself to be a complete bitch to her anymore.

Who knows? Maybe she'll be good for him. In ways I'll never be. And maybe, just maybe, being friends with her will force me to fall out of love with Dylan. I can only hope.

"Hey, honey."

Speak of the devil.

Kristen approaches, her arm slipping around Dylan's waist.

I glance away when he bends down to kiss her, my eyes locking with Rohan’s, who happens to be walking down the hall at the same time. I honestly don't know what came over me when I let loose a smile.

Then Rohan shocks me when he smiles back. The boy who rarely smiles just smiles at me—again. Did...Did that just seriously happen?

I'm still staring after him even when he disappears from view.

“What the hell was that about?” Dylan's sharp voice brings my attention back to them.

“Oh, leave her alone.” Kristen swats his chest then widens her eyes at me. "Bianca, Rohan totally smiled at you!"

"Eh, he was probably smiling at someone else,” I say lightly, playing it down.

"Don't be silly. That smile was meant for you. And the fact that his smiles don’t come often makes it all the more precious." She practically swoons when she says, “He’s such a cutie, isn’t he? And he seems to like you. That’s exciting!”

“Kristen, he literally just smiled at me. How could you have possibly known that he likes me?”

Really, it was just one damn smile. Who knows? Maybe Rohan was just in the mood to smile at that particular moment. How would anyone know it meant something more?

“Was he the guy?” The edge in Dylan’s tone makes me whip my head back to him.

“What guy?”

“The guy you refused to tell me about.”

I stare at him blankly before it dawns on me. He’s talking about that imaginary guy back at his dad’s garage. “You’re still into that?”

“Guy? What guy? And still into what?” Kristen looks between the two of us in confusion.

“Nothing,” I say before Dylan can open his big mouth again. “Dylan is just being stupid.”

“No, I’m not.”

The first period bell rings just then and I’m thankful for the excuse to end our conversation. “Oh, look. It’s time for class.”

Dylan gives me a look that says we will revisit the subject again.

Yeah, good luck with that. It’s a non-issue, anyway. I don’t even know what’s the big deal.

“We have to go.” Kristen pulls Dylan away. Over her shoulder she tells me, “See you later, B.”

One sleepover and she’s already calling me “B.” How cute.

I simply nod and watch them walk away, ignoring the familiar sting inside me.

“They look so perfect together, don’t they?” a sarcastically sweet voice says behind me.

Turning around, I come face to face with Erin Taylor. I give her a bored look. “Oh, you’re still around? Here I thought you’re already cancelled.”

Her popularity took somewhat of a nosedive after it came out that she was hooking up with Jason Everly while letting everyone think it was Madison. Serves her right for being a massive bitch.

Her sneer disappears, replaced by a mean look. “Well I’d rather be cancelled than be a pathetic loser who’s secretly in love with her best friend when said best friend doesn’t even notice she’s a girl.” She takes a little step closer. “Accept it. He will never go for someone like you. You’re nothing like Kristen.”

I clench my fist to control the urge to punch her in the face. She’s not worth the detention I’d surely get.

Seeing my reaction, her smirk widens.

A giggling Mackenzie Brown walks past us just then, with her boyfriend Sean Murphy whispering something in her ear. It causes Erin to stare hard after them, her teeth obviously grinding.

An evil grin takes over my face. “Who’s the pathetic loser again?”

She just rolls her eyes and walks away.

“Walk away now, real loser,” I cackle loudly after her, feeling incredibly catty.

Whatever. She started it.

But despite me telling myself her hateful words don’t mean a thing, they stay with me for hours. You’re nothing like Kristen.

It’s true. I’m not like her. But since when did I aspire to be her? The girl is turning out to be nice and all, but I’m pretty damn happy being myself. Why change that? I’m aware that I sometimes feel pathetic with my unrequited feelings for Dylan, but a loser? Hah. Never.

Erin Taylor can eat my cool ass.

The words still nag at me though, pissing me off, that by lunchtime I’m practically scowling down at my food and refusing to participate in the conversation around the table. Just one wrong word and I’m ready to bite someone’s head off.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to show up at Todd’s after school. I’m too sleepy. I’m barely able to pay attention in my classes,” El is complaining to Nick. She sits with us sometimes.

Nick chuckles. “Let me guess, because of the slumber party you girls had last night? Don’t worry about Dad. I’ll cover for you.”

Like El, Nick also works at his Dad’s pizza place, although not as often as his cousin. He works there mostly when he needs a boost to his allowance. I’d ask if he’s going on a date, but I’m not in the mood to talk.

“Thank you so much,” El breathes out. “I’ll owe you one.”

“Eh, it’s nothing.”

“Hey, Kristen told me something.” El turns to me, oblivious to my sour look. “Is there something going on with you and Rohan Mallick?” She utters his name in a hushed tone, as if afraid he’s listening.

The hell? I glare at Kristen’s table across the cafeteria where Dylan is sitting. Sloan is there too, trying to charm Kristen’s preppy friends. Why did she even have to mention something so trivial to El?

“Nothing’s going on, okay?” I snap. “Kristen doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean—” she sputters, looking a little embarrassed.

“Someone’s in a pissy mood,” Nick snickers.

“Sorry,” I tell El, feeling guilty for raising my voice at her. “Just having a bad day.”

She nods, giving me a tight smile.

I blow out a breath. This is what happens when I let stupid words affect me. I really should’ve punched Erin in the face when I had the chance.

Eight

Parking Adam’s car at the curb, I grab the folders from the passenger seat and climb out.

Mom forgot some important files at home so I’m bringing them to her and Dad’s place of business.

She was asking for Adam, but he and Maddie looked to be having a moment in the family room. I didn’t want to interrupt, so I decided to do it myself. I had nothing else to do anyway, after I finished doing a couple homework.

Walking into the reception area, I pass by Nancy—my parents’ secretary who’s currently talking to someone on the phone—and go straight to Mom’s office. The door’s already ajar so I enter the room without knocking.

I’m already inside when I notice she’s not alone. There’s a client sitting in front of her desk.

They both turn to look at me.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Just here to bring the files,” I say apologetically, raising the hand carrying the files.

The male client, who looks familiar to me for some reason, gives me a reassuring smile. “It’s okay,” he says in a thick British accent.

“Thank you, sweetie.” Mom stands from behind her table, looking so put-together in her form-fitting wrap dress and French chignon. It also makes her look like someone who’s only in her late thirties instead of late forties. She makes the introduction after taking the files from me. “This is my daughter Bianca. Sweetie, this is Mr. Raoul Mallick. He mentioned his son also goes to your high school. You may know him from one of your classes.”

“Uh, is your son Rohan Mallick?”

“Ah, you do know him,” Mr. Mallick chuckles. “Is he your classmate?”

So that’s why he looks familiar. And now that it finally clicks, I feel like I’m staring at the older version of Rohan. The resemblance between father and son is definitely strong.

I nod and smile. “We have Government together.”

Not wanting to cause any delay on their meeting, I promptly excuse myself and step out of the office, making sure to close the door behind me. I’m thinking of saying hi to Dad, but seeing that the door to his office is closed, I assume he’s entertaining a client as well. I don’t want to make another interruption.

When I reach the reception area, there’s a boy sitting on the receiving couch. Huh. He must have got in after me. He wasn’t there when I arrived.

“Rohan?”

He glances up, startled. Then rises from the couch. “Bianca.”

“Are you waiting for your dad? He’s in Mom’s office.”

“Ah, yes. We arrived together. I was just using the loo.”

“That’s why I didn’t see you when I got here.” I should probably leave, but my curiosity is piqued. “What do you need the Hayes Realties’ services for? Are you planning to sell your house?” Are they moving back to London?

He rubs the back of his neck. “Actually, we’re planning to buy one. At the moment we’re living in my uncle’s house. He and his family moved across the state years ago, so Mum and Dad volunteered to house sit for them when we moved from London. But now my parents decided it’s time to have our own home here in town.”

“So you’re looking at potential properties.”

“Basically yes.”

“Well, don’t worry, you’re in great hands.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he chuckles.

Wow. He really is a cutie when he smiles.

Shaking my head of the silly thought, I tell him. “So I’m heading out. Guess I’ll see you later?”

I turn for the door, about to step out, when his words stop me. “I didn’t know you’re a fan of indie music.”

Huh? But then I remember I’m wearing my Reckless Pursuit shirt.

Does Rohan know them? Of course I have to turn back around to discuss it. “It’s never been a secret. Are you telling me you are, too?”

“I know the drummer. He’s my cousin,” he says, a little sheepish.

My eyes widen. “No shit?”

His sheepish smile grows. “Yes. The uncle I told you about? Well his eldest son, Angelo, decided to stay behind. The band was newly formed then.”

Angelo Bradford is his cousin? That’s the coolest thing ever! “Oh man, you need to introduce me to them,” I say shamelessly.

He just chuckles, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “How did you come to know them, anyway?”

“I went to the music festival in the city last year.” Well, me and Dylan. He took me there as a surprise for my seventeenth birthday. The band was playing there, and I fell in love with their music right there and then. “They were awesome. I’ve downloaded their songs in Spotify.”

“Same. They produce bloody good music.” He scratches his nose, the sheepish expression coming back. “Tell you what, if they ever have a gig nearby I’ll try to score some tickets for you. If you fancy going, that is.”

“Please. As if I’ll turn that down. Dude, you’d seriously be my hero if that happens.”

Rohan laughs at that, his infectious laughter making me laugh along with him. He really should smile and laugh often at school.

“Looks like you two are having fun.”

Turning to the direction of  the voice, I see Mom and Rohan’s dad walking toward us, both of them smiling.

Rohan clears his throat. “Should we head out?”

Mr. Mallick nods at his son before turning to Mom and shaking her hands. “I’ll keep in touch.”

“I’ll have the pictures sent to you sometime tomorrow,” Mom says.

“See you at school?” Rohan tells me, echoing my earlier words to him.

I laugh. “Sure.”

He and his dad step out then. But before they do, he looks at me over his shoulder and smiles.

I smile back, watching them disappear outside.

“That boy is cute,” Mom whispers behind me.

I roll my eyes. Of course she’d notice that. “He’s just a classmate, Mom. And he’s not interested in me in any way.”

I know my mother. She’d continue teasing me about Rohan if I don’t put the brakes on it. Truthfully, she’s still teasing me about Dylan up to this day. I never told her about my real feelings for him, but something tells me I never really have to. Mothers always know, don’t they?

“I don’t know, honey. I saw the way he looked at you. And that was far from being not interested.”

Great. Now she sounds like Kristen. Oh, whatever. They can think what they like, but I know the truth. Rohan isn’t interested in me at all.

Nine

My head is resting on top of Dylan’s stomach, and I’m belting out the lyrics of the song currently playing, matching the volume of the music coming from his iPod. We’re in his room, chilling out when Spice Girls’ Who Do You Think You Are comes on. And one does not listen to Spice Girls without singing along.

Even Dylan is singing under his breath. He’s pretending not to. But I can totally hear him.

He can pretend to be cool and aloof nowadays, but when we were kids we used to sing and dance along to Wannabe—him, me and sometimes even Adam. Honestly, I wish Mom had caught those times on video. It would have been epic seeing the look on their faces if I could show it to them now.

When the song ends, Dylan reaches out to adjust the volume on his iPod. I don’t mind since the next song isn’t exactly my vibe.

We stay quiet, both of us preoccupied by our respective thoughts. Although I’m just really enjoying the moment. This is one of the few times where I get to have Dylan all to myself. We haven’t been spending a lot of time together lately. And I’ve been missing him.

I suspect he feels the same way. When he drove me home after school, he surprised me when he said he wanted to hang out with me the whole afternoon. I guess that’s why he made sure to drop Kristen off first.

Can’t say I’m not pleased by that. Knowing he still wants to spend alone time with me despite having a girlfriend makes my heart somersault with joy. It also tells me that no matter what, he’ll still have time for me. I didn’t know I needed that kind of assurance until today. Dylan never says a word about it, but then he doesn’t have to.

“Kristen wants to go to the drive-in Friday night,” Dylan says all of a sudden. “She likes to check out whatever’s playing.”

“Uh, okay?” I don’t even know why he felt the need to tell me.

“Come with us. I’ll ask Nick and Sloan, too.”

“Are you serious?” That makes me sit up and stare down at him, my hair cascading down my back in the process.

I try to ignore how annoyingly sexy he looks lying with his hands behind his head. He’s only wearing an undershirt, his defined biceps on full display and tempting me like crazy.

You’re such a perv, Bianca.

Only when it comes to D.

What???

FFS, I mean Dylan! Not that kind of “D.” Geez, brain, get yourself out of the gutter.

I shake my head to ward off my inner crazy. “It’s supposed to be a date between you and Kristen, D.”

“So?” He shrugs. “I’m not allowed to bring my friends along if I want?”

I fix him an exasperated look. Because, wow, this guy. “Do you even know how a date works?”

“I’m not an idiot,” he grumbles, scowling.

“I’m not saying you are.” I bite the insides of my cheek to keep from laughing. “But considering you’re practically a virgin in the dating department—” I yelp when he suddenly pounces on me. I’m pinned on the bed and he’s hovering above me. I don’t miss the wicked glint in his eyes, telling me he’s up to something.

“Virgin, you say?” A smirk spreads across his face.

“Don’t you dare!” I yell.

But he already launches his attack, tickling me furiously on the sides.

I’m laughing so hard while trying my best to escape the assault, but to no avail. The bastard simply won’t let up. He knows my ticklish spots and he’s taking full advantage of them.

“Uncle! Uncle!” I gasp out in between breathless laughter.

Stopping, Dylan gives me a smug look. “Still calling me a virgin?”

Because I’m a masochist, I continue to taunt him. “But you are a vir—”

He doesn’t even let me finish. The tickle-attack is back in full force. And I’m reduced into a gasping, writhing mess once again.

“You asshole!” I manage to blurt out, panting hard after he’s done tormenting me.

“You’re too easy.” He grins wide, reaching down to pinch my nose.

The sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts our banter, making us turn our heads toward the door. We always leave it open whenever we’re in his room.

We should’ve probably closed it today though. Because Walter and Kristen are staring at us from the door. Walter is sporting an amused look on his face, while Kristen has her mouth open in shock. It’s almost comical.

That’s when it dawns on me. Dylan is straddling my stomach.

I push him off me and quickly rise from the bed, running a hand through my hair. “Sorry. We’re just messing around.” When her eyes widen, I quickly amend, “Dude, not that kind of messing around. He was just being a bully.”

Dylan snorts but doesn’t bother to explain himself. He goes back to his previous position.

I make a face at him. You’re useless.

He smirks. You’re on your own, sweetheart.

Probably because there’s really nothing to explain. We didn’t do anything wrong. Though I know that if the tables were turned and I was his girlfriend and I caught him in a compromising position with another girl, I’d demand an explanation.

Finally, he shrugs. “What she said.”

Okay, then.

Rolling my eyes at him, I turn back to Kristen whose eyes are narrowed for a moment before schooling her features and breaking into a smile. Yep, she isn’t happy by what she saw.

Behind her, Walter seems like he’s holding back a laugh. Seriously, these McCafferty men.

“I guess I better head out.” I make sure to sound cheerful, even though I’m really disappointed that Kristen showed up.

Dylan was supposed to spend the whole afternoon with me, not just half of it. I slant a look at him and I’m a little surprised to see my disappointment mirrored in his face.

He practically confirms it when he quietly says, “You don’t have to leave.”

Kristen’s lips purses in annoyance. Then looks down when she sees me staring, pretending to dust off her shirt.

I’m not an insensitive prick so I shake my head. “It’s okay. I have to work on my homework, anyway. I’ll just see you guys tomorrow.”

I turn to leave when Kristen stops me. “Bianca, wait.” I look over my shoulder. "Want to go to the mall this weekend?”

My eyes pop, making Dylan smirk. I ignore him. “To go shopping? Uh, no.”

She laughs. “Come on, it’ll be fun. I’ve also asked El and Maddie to come along. I’d really love it if you’d join us, B.”

Is she hoping for a sleepover two point zero? Guess I’m hoping the same because I find myself nodding and blurting out a yes before I step out of Dylan’s room.

“That was painful to watch, kid,” Walter tells me as we walk down the hall, sounding a little sympathetic.

“Don’t I know it,” I mutter, pretending not to hear Kristen’s squeal and soft giggles coupled with Dylan’s gruff whispers.

Don’t worry, B, someday you won’t have to pretend anymore.

As if to read my thoughts, Walter taps me on the back. “For what it’s worth, kid, I’ve always rooted for you.”

Ten

Friday night comes and almost every junior and senior student in Bayfield High is present at the drive-in. What can I say? There aren’t a lot of places to go to in this town when it comes to hangout spots. So here we all are.

Dylan and Kristen picked me up a couple hours after they dropped me home from school. Nick, Sloan and El are already at the drive-in when we got here. So they managed to find a good spot ahead of us. And they even saved a space for Dylan’s pickup, which is right next to Sloan’s convertible. We’re near the front so it’s pretty sweet.

The movie on the screen is a James Bond installment in which Daniel Craig plays the famous fictional character. I’ve watched it probably a thousand times but it seriously never gets old.

Dylan and Kristen are sitting on the bed of his truck. We brought comfy beach chairs with us so that’s where El, Nick and I are lounging. Sloan, on the other hand, is making out with some girl in his car instead of watching the movie. They probably won’t come up for air until the end credits.

“You know what’s missing?” El turns in her seat to face me.

“What?” I humor her.

“S’mores and a fire pit. That would be perfect.” She even looks wistful, which only makes me laugh.

“We’re not camping. Besides, who needs s’mores when we have pizza and chicken drumsticks?”

Todd was kind enough to let Nick bring two boxes of pizza and a chicken bucket for free. At least that’s what Nick and El told us. Since they’re working at the pizza place, they get to man the kitchen. And once or twice, Nick has sneaked out boxes of pizza without his dad knowing. I won’t be surprised if Todd doesn’t know about this one, too.

“I’m actually craving for some s’mores myself,” Nick chimes in from El’s other side.

What are we, six?

I roll my eyes at them. “I’m gonna grab some drinks. Want one?”

“Sure,” El says.

Nick simply motions to the beer can in his hand.

Okay, then.

Dylan and Kristen seem to be completely engrossed with each other, but I don’t look to check if they’re making out. I don’t have any intention of torturing myself tonight, so I simply walk past them.

Making my way toward the concession area, I stop a few times to nod and say hi to some people along the way. I spy Adam and Maddie a few cars down with Sean, Kenzie, and the rest of their friends. They haven’t seen me though, so I don’t bother going over.

Thankfully, there’s no waiting line in front of the counter so I manage to get the drinks fast. Holding mine and El’s Coke cups, I whirl around and almost bump into someone.

“Easy.” A hand shoots out to steady me.

I glance up at a guy wearing a baseball cap. Squinting my eyes, I recognize him in an instant.

It’s Rohan and he looks just as surprised to see me.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hello,” he greets back, biting back a smile, pulling his hand back and shoving them into his pockets.

I arch a brow at him. “So, James Bond fan, huh?”

He shrugs. “Eh, more like out of boredom. Thought I’d go along with my teammates.” Oh, yeah. Rohan is a member of the swim team. “But they’d gone off to join their mates or girlfriends. So I’ll probably head out.”

“You can join us,” I offer, meaning it.

He gives me a hesitant look. “I don’t know.”

“My friends won’t mind.” When he just continues to stare at me, I blow out a breath. “Seriously, come on. There’s another chair that has your name on it.”

It was supposed to be Sloan’s, but seeing that he’s otherwise engaged, I don’t think he’ll mind if I let someone else use it.

Breathing out a laugh, he finally nods. “Okay. But let me carry those for you.” He goes to grab the Coke cups from my hands before I can even stop him.

I guess chivalry isn’t dead?

I quietly lead the way back to my friends, making sure Rohan is close behind me.

“Here we are,” I say when we reach my friends, sitting on my chair and gesturing him to do the same on the empty chair next to mine.

Taking the drinks from his hands and handing one to El, I address all my friends who turn out to be gaping at us. “Guys, you know Rohan, right?”

It’s El who recovers first. “Um, yeah. Hi.” She waves at him awkwardly.

I turn to Rohan. “Do I need to make introductions?”

That makes him chuckle. “It’s okay. I know their names.”

“Great.” I smile at him, but it fades when I see the look on Dylan’s face. He’s glaring at Rohan and he’s not even trying to hide it. I wait for him to meet my gaze before I give him my own dark glare. What’s your problem?

He ignores me, focusing his eyes back on the boy sitting next to me. The words that come out of his mouth are pure venom. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Mallick? Where are your pool club friends?”

El whips her head toward us, wide-eyed.

Kristen gasps out loud. “Dylan!”

Rohan stiffens beside me.

I grit my teeth. “Shut up, D. I invited him.” To Rohan, I give an apologetic look. “Don’t mind him. He’s PMS-ing.”

Rohan glares back at Dylan, but smiles at me then finally relaxing.

I exhale a relieved breath. Trouble averted.

Nick snorts out a laugh. Standing up, he walks over to us, making Rohan stiffen again. But he only slaps him on the back.

“Your funeral, man,” Nick chuckles before heading to a group of stoners—probably to score a cigarette.

I slant a glance at Dylan, but he’s scowling at Kristen. She’s tearing into him. Good. Serves him right.

“What’s his deal?” Rohan quietly asks after a long moment.

I sigh. “Ignore him. He’s just being an idiot.”

“I think it’s more than that,” he says, as if implying something. But instead of elaborating, he focuses his attention to the screen.

I pretend to do the same, but inside I’m still seething. I know Dylan can be an asshole. But what did Rohan do to him to warrant that kind of behavior? Is there any bad blood between them that I don’t know about?

But Dylan doesn’t get into fights. And neither does Rohan. I think. He keeps to himself most of the time. Even though he sits with his teammates during lunch—yeah, I’ve been observing him lately—I haven’t seen him participate in their rowdy conversations. Plus he asked me what’s wrong with Dylan, which tells me he has no idea as well.

I guess I’ll have to confront Dylan about it. And I know it’s not going to be pretty. I’d probably end up yelling at him and kicking his ass in frustration.

Halfway through the second movie, Kristen announces she’s tired, so we all decide to pack up and go home. Like I suspected, Sloan remains attached to his kissing partner’s lips the whole time. So he’s a little disoriented when I tell him it’s time to go.

After the chairs are loaded up in the back of Dylan’s truck, I turn to Rohan. “Do you have a ride? We can give you a ride home.” I can feel Dylan’s scowl boring into the back of my head, but I ignore him.

Rohan looks over my shoulder, his eyes darkening a little. “It’s okay. I brought my car with me.”

I nod. “So, uh, see you at school?”

He nods. “Thanks for inviting me over.”

“Eh, no big deal.” Smiling at him one last time, I turn to climb into the truck, throwing a scowl in Dylan’s direction. He’s already in the driver seat, looking impatient. But I only manage a few steps before Rohan is calling after me again. I whirl around to see him jogging back.

Stopping in front of me, he runs a hand through his hair. Is it me or does he look a little nervous?

Behind me, Dylan honks impatiently.

Sloan honks the horn as well, pulling out of his spot and driving away with El and Nick.

“I’m coming, geez. Just wait a damn minute,” I snap at the asshole. Turning back to Rohan, I say, “Yeah? Did you forget something?”

“Actually, I was wondering if you’d like to see Reckless Pursuit play.”

My eyes widen. Is he asking me—

“They have a gig in Brooksville next weekend.”

Brooksville is just three towns over from Bayfield. My heart starts to race in excitement. “They’ll be there? Seriously?”

He nods. “My cousin already reserved a table for me. Said I could bring my mates if I want to. Since I know you fancy them.” He shrugs, trailing off.

“Are you asking me on a date?” I blurt out.

“I…Well.” He blushes and I can’t help but grin at how adorable he looks.

I find myself nodding. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”

It’s a wonder how I’m not jumping up and down like a crazy fangirl. Because I’m legit fangirling right now. I’ll be seeing one of my favorite bands perform live. Holy shit!

Relief crosses his features and he grins. “Pick you up at seven then.”

I grin back. “Can’t wait.”

We both jump as another honk sounds behind me, and it’s even longer this time.

I close my eyes. I’m going to kill Dylan in his sleep. Saying goodbye to Rohan, I run to the truck and climb inside.

“Ohmigod, he totally asked you out!” Kristen squeals. “We heard every word!”

I just grin at her, still feeling overwhelmed that Rohan asked me out. Looking out the window, I sigh audibly and watch him walk away.

I only startle when Dylan reverses out of the spot abruptly, making Kristen squeal and almost knocking me off my seat.

My eyes find his through the rear-view mirror. He’s still sporting a dark look. Seriously, the guy needs to get over himself.

Flashing a taunting smile, I lift both hands and flip him off.

Eleven

“My feet are numb. I can’t feel them anymore,” Kristen whines, stretching her legs out.

Next to her, Madison blows out a tired breath. “When I go home, I’m going to stay in my bed for the next twenty-four hours.”

“We have school tomorrow,” I point out, snickering on my banana milkshake.

She shakes her head firmly. “I don’t care. I’m sleeping in.”

“I’m never going shopping again.” Kristen continues to gripe, shoveling a forkful of pasta into her mouth.

El gives them a sympathetic look. “Well, at least you managed to shop all the clothes you wanted.”

“Not really,” Kristen pouts. “I couldn’t find the dress I just saw a few days ago. I was really hoping I could get it today. But no, someone beat me to it.” Her frown deepens, but then it’s quickly replaced by an excited smile. “Oh, I know. I’ll just go browse their online catalogue and see if I can find it there.”

What happened to not shopping again? But, really, I don’t have to ask. Sure they’re complaining about aching feet and legs right now. But come next shopping spree? Sore limbs be damned.

It’s a good thing I don’t care much for shopping. I mostly wear graphic tees so I only enter one or two stores—and every few months at that. Buying a new shirt doesn’t even last me twenty minutes.

But Kristen and Maddie? They spent over three hours going through clothing store after clothing store. And they only ended up with, what, two or three shopping bags each?

El and I were happily spared of the torture. She shares my lack of interest so we opted to see the latest Tom Cruise movie instead, and decided we’d just meet the two of them here in the food court afterwards.

We even had time to mess around at the arcades and try out those comfy demo massage chairs after we stepped out of the movies. Best three hours spent ever. We’re definitely not moaning about having achy feet.

Kristen said we’d have fun. El and I sure did.

“You know what we should get after this?” Maddie addresses us all, waving a fry as she does so.

“More clothes?” I deadpan.

“No. Massage. I badly need one,” she ends on a whimper.

El and I grin at each other knowingly.

“Okay,” Kristen somberly agrees. “But can we, like, get one later? I literally don’t think I can walk right now. I need at least an hour.”

“Poor baby,” I smirk. “Want me to call Dylan to come carry you?”

Instead of beaming at my offer, her face crumples. She looks down. “I don’t think he’ll come willingly.”

“Why not?” I demand.

She blows some stray hair out of her face. “We kind of had a fight last night.”

They did? My mind goes back to the drive-in. Everything seemed fine then. “When? After you guys dropped me off?”

They sure weren’t fighting when we left. In fact, it had been a quiet ride to my house. If there was tension simmering between them, I didn’t notice. Even Dylan’s dickishness didn’t stop me from riding the high of being asked out by Rohan.

See, here’s the thing: I’ve never had a boyfriend before. Honestly, I can count in one hand the number of times a guy asked me out throughout high school and middle school—none of them my type in the slightest.

I do get some skeevy propositions for a hookup from time to time. It’s like boys take one look at me and decide, “This girl is always up for a good time.”

Yeah, in their dreams. I’m not like Dylan and Nick. I don’t go around hooking up with people liberally.

Truth: I only kissed two boys my whole life. One time in seventh grade when I got roped into playing Spin the Bottle. It lasted all of three seconds before Mark Johnson and I pulled apart, wiping our lips. I’m pretty sure it was the moment he realized he was gay.

The other one was back in sophomore year. I just caught Dylan making out with a senior behind the school gym. So in retaliation, I spent an hour sucking face with Chad Harrelson—a junior—in his car in the parking lot. He was a sloppy kisser and he squeezed my boob so hard I thought it was going to fall off my chest. So yeah, that was the end of that.

Now I can’t help wondering if Rohan is a good kisser. More importantly, will he end up being my first boyfriend? Getting the attention of one of the most elusive boys in school has certainly been a shock. But I’m certainly not averse to the idea.

“Maybe he was just having a bad day.” El’s voice reels me back into the conversation.

Right. We’re talking about Kristen and Dylan’s ongoing lovers quarrel.

“No. He was in a good mood. He just started acting all moody at the drive-in.” Kristen pauses thoughtfully, turning to me. “I think it was around the time you brought Rohan with you.” She frowns at me for a long moment, as if coming to a realization.

“You brought Rohan?” Maddie arches a questioning brow at me but I ignore her.

Come to think of it, Kristen’s right. Rohan was the cause of Dylan’s dark mood. Which is still very much a puzzle to me. What did Rohan ever do to him?

Wait.

Is it because Rohan is showing interest in me? Is Dylan actually...jealous?

But I quickly dismiss the thought. That’s impossible. And totally ridiculous! He has Kristen, why would he be jealous? And it’s already been established that Dylan sees me as nothing but his best friend. Maybe even a sister.

Yeah, that’s probably why he was rude to Rohan. He was just acting like a protective older brother to me. Maybe to gauge Rohan’s real intention, in case Dylan needs to break his nose or something.

That’s it.

Nothing more.

Now, if only hope didn’t bloom in my chest at the prospect of Dylan being jealous.

Twelve

I’m not a vain person. I don’t spend a lot of time staring at myself in the mirror, wondering if I look pretty enough. But on Monday morning, I find myself doing just that.

Suddenly, I’m scrutinizing every inch of my outfit like some fashionista. There’s nothing even special about it. I’m just wearing a maroon cropped sweater over dark high-waisted jeans and sneakers, my hair pulled up in a messy high ponytail.

“Since when did you start caring about what you look like?” I mutter at my reflection.

Since Rohan asked me out, that’s when. He’s the kind of guy who can easily choose among the prettiest and girliest girls in school and yet he went after me. If that’s not enough to make a girl conscious of her appearance, I don’t know what is.

Rolling my eyes at my newfound vanity, I turn to grab my bag from my bed. I’ll just wait for Dylan and Kristen downstairs. They’ll be here in a minute, anyway.

I didn’t ask Kristen if they managed to iron things out over the weekend. But I’m sure they did. Hell, I’ll probably be subjected once again to a torturous PDA.

It’s okay. I’ve mastered my poker face.

Turning toward the door, I pause when it opens, watching Mom walk inside, already dressed for work.

“Honey, your ride is already here.”

Great. Right on time. “Okay, I’m coming down now.”

But she doesn’t move out of the way. She tilts her head a little to the side, as if to study me. “You look pretty today. Did you put some makeup on?”

Really, Mom? I only ever wear lip-gloss and she already knows that. I hold back an eye-roll. “No, I didn’t. Can I go now?”

She finally steps aside. But she’s apparently not done yet. “Well, honey, you’re positively glowing. Is it because of that cute boy? What’s his name again? Rohan?”

Ugh. Not this again.

Instead of answering, I give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Shoot, we’re gonna be late. See you later.”

“But—”

Yeah, I don’t let her finish. I’m already running out the door and practically flying down the stairs. I can’t let her catch up to me.

I only let out a sigh of relief when I finally step out into the front porch, a little out of breath.

Like Mom said, Dylan’s pickup is in the driveway waiting for me. Adam’s car is no longer there, probably on his way to Madison’s house to pick her up.

I walk over to the pickup. “Hey, did I keep you guys—” I cut myself off and blink at the front passenger seat, which is empty. “Where’s Kristen?”

Dylan just grunts. “Get in.”

Great. Grumpy Dylan is still around. I’m in for a quiet ride again.

Sighing, I climb into the front seat.

I keep sneaking glances at him as he drives us to school, trying to gauge if he’s pissed or just not in the mood. Is he still not talking to Kristen?

I thought they already kissed and made up last Saturday. Back at the mall, I remember Kristen saying she’d go talk to him once she got home. I guess their conversation didn’t turn out the way she expected.

I don’t know how to feel about it. On one hand, I’m relieved she’s not around. I’ve had enough torture riding with them to school every day. Especially when she acts all sweet toward Dylan. Or when she kisses him right in front of me—yeah, even when he’s driving.

On the other, I kinda feel bad for her. Dylan’s being a complete ass.

I can’t believe I’m actually going to talk some sense into him and convince him to make up with her. A week ago, I wanted them to break up. I wanted her away from him. A part of me still does, if I’m being honest. But I can’t be selfish because this isn’t about me.

“You should talk to her, D.”

He clenches his jaw. “Just drop it, okay?”

I ignore him. “She looked so upset at the mall. What did you guys fight about, anyway?”

He doesn’t respond, just puts the car in park. That’s when I notice we’re already in the school’s parking lot.

Well, if he thinks I’m going to let this go, he’s wrong. Something’s obviously bothering him enough to affect his relationship with Kristen. What kind of a best friend am I if I don’t talk to him about it? Even if it’s the last thing I want to do, I still want to help him fix it.

“Look, Kristen—”

“What do you care?” he sneers. “You’re not even friends.”

I feel like I’ve been slapped in the face. “She may not be my friend. But you? You’re my best friend. Whether you like it or not, I care. So deal with it, okay?” My eyes burn, but I blink it away.

Remorse fills his eyes. “Bianca—fuck,” he curses, rubbing a hand over his face, his frustration clear.

“Seriously, D. What the hell is your problem?” And then it hits me. What if—? Swallowing hard, I ask, “Is it because of Rohan?”

Dylan meets my gaze, his dark eyes searing mine. What do you think?

I suck in a breath, my heart starting to race. “Why?”

Tell me because you’re jealous of him.

But he doesn’t respond. He simply looks away.

That pisses me the hell off. “So, what, you can get yourself a girlfriend but I can’t have a boyfriend? You can hook up with whoever you want, but I can’t even go on a date? Well, screw you, D. You’re not my keeper. You don’t get to stop me from doing what I want.”

His nostrils flare. “And he’s what you want?”

No. You. “Yes.”

He stares at me for a moment, as if searching for something. When I keep my poker face, his features become void of any emotion. “Then we have nothing else to talk about anymore. Whatever’s going on between Kristen and me doesn’t concern you.”

That… That’s not just a slap to the face. It’s a punch.

“Fine,” I say coldly. “Have fun being miserable.” I jerk the passenger open and get out of his truck, angrily swiping away the tears that suddenly fall down my cheeks.

I can’t believe Dylan made me cry. We’ve had a lot of silly fights in the past. But this… This is the first time I’ve ended up crying. And it sucks.

The rest of the day passes with me avoiding him. But it turns out I don’t have to. He doesn’t turn up at lunch. I also don’t see him in class. Did he ditch school?

Whatever. I don’t care. I refuse to seek him out when he’s being a dick. He can drown himself in misery all he wants.

Sometime after lunch, I approach Kristen at her locker, but she pretty much ignores me. Her friends even sneer at me when I try to start a conversation. Guess our “friendship” is dependent on whether things are good between her and Dylan. Good to know.

When the last period ends, I go to the only person I can think of to help me try to make sense of it all. Nick is smoking outside the back building when I find him.

“The last time I saw you here, you were making out with Shelby Miller.”

He shoots me a clueless look. “Shelby who?”

I hold back a laugh. I feel sorry for all the girls he hooked up with. “You suck.”

He smirks. “No. But she probably did.”

I gag at the involuntary mental image. “Dude, seriously, don’t say shit like that in front of me.”

He just shrugs. “You started it.”

Time to change the subject. “Have you seen Dylan?”

“Didn’t he bail out? His truck isn’t in its usual spot, and I heard his girl crying to her friends.” Imitating a girly voice, he cries, “Why would he rather miss school than make up with me?”

A bubble of laughter escapes me. “You’re such a jerk.” Then my laughter dies out and I frown. “Why is he being an ass, Nick? He wouldn’t even tell me what’s going on.”

He takes a drag of his cigarette. “Give him some time. He’s just starting to figure things out.”

“What things?”

“Things he’s starting to realize that he truly wants.” He sounds annoyingly cryptic. Does he know something I don’t?

“You do know you’re not making any sense, right?” And here I thought he could help me find out the truth.

Nick simply lets out a slow smile. “Don’t worry, B. You’ll find out soon enough. That guy is about to explode.”

“Who’s about to explode?” a voice behind me suddenly interjects.

“Jesus, Sloan.”

Sloan points a finger at me. “You’re jumpy, dudette.” He moves toward Nick, fishing a cigarette from his back pocket. “Help a friend out, brother.” After getting it lit by Nick’s lighter, he turns back to me. “What are we discussing?”

“Dylan,” Nick says before I can motion for him to shut up.

“Yeah? What’s up with our boy Dylan? He’s been acting weird lately.”

“Mallick is showing interest in Bianca.”

My eyes bug out. “What the hell, Nick?”

“He knows. Trust me.”

“Know what?” Did he tell Sloan about my secret? “I swear I’m going to—”

Sloan cuts me off. “And D hasn’t killed him yet?”

“Why the hell would he do that?” I demand.

“Because, dudette, our boy Dylan has been scaring every guy who ever dared to show interest in you. He’s been doing it since sophomore year.”

“He WHAT?!”

Blinking at my outburst, Sloan turns to Nick. “Huh. She really didn’t know. Guess I owe you ten bucks.”

“Twenty bucks now.” When Sloan sputters, Nick shrugs. “Inflation, man.”

“Dude, we only made the bet two years ago.”

“Exactly.”

I stare at the two of them, dumbfounded. They actually made a bet? These two are nuts. Why am I even friends with them?

No. Wait. That’s not the issue here.

“Why would Dylan scare guys off of me? I’ve never heard of that happening. Not even once. And surely, if he’s been going around threatening people, some of them were bound to fight back. But Dylan has never gotten into fights.”

“He’s big and scary. He doesn’t have to use his fists to scare people off. Now have you seen him use his eyes? If looks can kill.” Sloan shudders.

“What about the few ones who pursued me for weeks? They didn’t even look threatened.”

“That’s because they were all harmless,” he says. “He only goes after the guys who have a good chance at getting into your pants.”

I give him a blank stare.

He shakes his head and starts to count off with his fingers. “Stoner Tony, Hipster Leslie, Weird Wally—and what about that dude who always calls for his mommy whenever he trips during PE? What do they have in common?”

I open my mouth only to close it again.

“They’re all losers. You will never go for those guys.”

“You make me sound like a bitch.”

“No. You have standards. There’s a difference,” he says in an airy voice it almost makes me laugh.

I shoot Nick an incredulous look, but he just nods like Sloan is making perfect sense.

“You’ve lost your damn minds.” I turn to leave but Sloan stops me by holding on to my shoulders.

He’s now sporting a serious look on his face. “Dudette, you’re downright the scariest chick in this school.” My scowl deepens, but he ignores that. “You’re also one of the hottest.”

I blush and roll my eyes.

He ignores that, too. “Did you honestly think no one wanted to ask you out? I’m a guy and trust me when I tell you there are a lot of them who want to. They just don’t want to mess with Big D.”

“Don’t say Big D.”

“Big D.”

Ugh. I blow out an exasperated breath. But I guess it all makes sense now. Like how those guys who propositioned me for a hookup didn't ask the question again. Hell, they even acted like they didn’t know me at all afterwards. Was it because of Dylan? Did he threaten to cut their balls off or something?

I wince when I remember it was partly my fault. Whenever someone hits on me like that, I always complain to Dylan. In my defense, I was just ranting about those incidents. I had no idea he was actually doing something about it.

But now that I know what’s going on, he can bet his meddling ass that I will be saying something about it. And he will never hear the end of it.

“In short, tell your boy Mallick that if he values his life, he should run as far from you as possible,” Nick tells me.

“If Big D didn’t get to him first.”

My eyes narrow into slits. Not if Big D is already dead.

Thirteen

Turns out my plan of kicking Dylan’s infuriating ass has to wait. My parents chose Monday night, of all nights, to go on a date. And Adam is over at Maddie’s house.

So I’m the one staying at home with my little sister. Right now, we’re in the family room watching Tangled a.k.a. Peach’s most favorite movie in the world. She’s watched this like a million times and she still has no intention of stopping. Even though she’s already memorized practically every line in the film.

Shoveling a spoonful of Ben & Jerry’s into my mouth, I entertain myself by scrolling through Facebook. It also serves a good distraction to keep myself from charging to the McCaffertys’ like a madwoman. But I’m damn tempted to do just that.

I’m still furious over what I learned from Nick and Sloan. Where does Dylan get off meddling with my love life like that? When I’ve never interfered with his? I may bitch out whenever he’s hooking up with some girl. But I’ve never, not even once, outright sabotaged it. He’s always been free to do whatever he wants to do. So he has absolutely no right to be all up in my business.

I clench my fist so hard my nails are digging into my skin. I’m so upset right now I want to scream. But that will only scare Peach.

Sweet Peach who chooses the moment to giggle at the screen.

I plaster a forced smile and run my hand through her hair, tucking an errant lock behind her ear. She doesn’t even pry her eyes away from the TV. Oh, to be a kid and not have a care in the world again.

Sighing, I turn my attention back to my phone and instantly frown at what I’m seeing.

“Make a girl cry and you will regret it for the rest of your life.”

“Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option.”

“You may have broken her heart, but you’d never break the person she is.”

They are all quotes posted by Kristen on her Facebook page. And she only posted them within the last hour. What is going on?

I’m about to click on the comments and see what’s up when the doorbell rings. Setting my phone down on the coffee table, I head to the front door and pull it open.

My scowl comes out in an instant. “What are you doing here?”

Dylan is standing in our front porch, his eyes downcast. Glancing up, he clears his throat. “Can I come in?”

I’m tempted to tell him to get lost, but that will be counterproductive, seeing as he has a lot of explaining to do. Instead of letting him in though, I step outside and close the door behind me.

He looks a little hurt so I quickly explain. “I don’t want to disturb Peach. She’s in the family room watching a movie.”

Dylan nods distractedly. Is he eyeing my legs?

I cross my arms over my chest, suddenly conscious of the fact that I’m wearing short shorts and braless under my shirt. “If you came here to piss me off even more—”

“So you’re still mad at me,” he says gruffly.

I grit my teeth and look away. Of course I’m still mad. But I’m also confused and upset and hurt. What’s more, I feel betrayed. All those feelings combined makes me very very frustrated. They make me want to cry in front of Dylan again.

Seeing my distress, he steps closer, his heat surrounding me. Then he’s cupping my chin. “Look at me. Please.”

I snap my head up, ready to yell at him, but almost suck in a breath at the searing intensity in his eyes. They’re dark and full of emotion. “Dylan—”

“I’m fucking sorry, B. I’m a dumbass. I shouldn’t have made you cry.”

At his words, I scowl, remembering. I swat his hand away and step back. Then shiver and hug myself, noticing the cold for the first time. Why did I think it was a good idea to talk outside, anyway?

Dylan sighs and wordlessly takes off his jacket, then drapes it over my shoulders, engulfing me in his familiar cool, woodsy scent.

I blink at him in surprise, but then I quickly remember he’s always done this in the past. Even when there was another girl hanging by his side and loudly complaining about the cold, if he saw me shivering, he would put his jacket around me.

But what if it comes down between me and Kristen, who will he choose?

“Bianca.”

I shake my thoughts away. “Tell me, is it true that you’ve been scaring guys off from dating me?”

“Who told you that?”

“That’s not a denial.”

“I’m not denying anything.” He doesn’t even look the least bit guilty.

“So it is true?” I feel my temper rising again. “Who the hell do you think you are, Dylan? My dad? God, you have no idea how badly I want to kick your ass right now. ”

He starts to pace the porch like a caged animal. “I’m not going to apologize for that. None of them is good enough for you.”

“And how could you have known that? You already made your judgement before they could even prove themselves.” I’m already yelling but I couldn’t care less if the neighbors can hear me.

A muscle in his jaw tics. “I’m a guy, Bianca. I know how they operate.”

“But not all guys are like you, D. Not all of them bed and dismiss a girl in a span of ten minutes.”

The words make him flinch. He runs a hand through his hair and barks out a dark laugh. “Jesus, you make me sound like an asshole.”

“You are an asshole.” But you are my asshole—at least you used to be. I take a deep breath to calm my raging nerves. “Listen, it stops now, okay? That overprotective bullshit ends now. Or I swear—”

He stops pacing. “You really like him that much, huh?”

“Who?”

Dylan rolls his eyes. “Mallick.”

“Oh.”

I like Rohan. But do I like him a lot? I don’t know. All I know is that I’m willing to see how it goes between us. It’s why I agreed to go on a date with him in the first place.

Rohan seems like a great guy. Who knows? Maybe he’ll help me move on from my feelings for Dylan. It’s about time I do that, anyway. I’ve waited enough.

And I can’t let Dylan sabotage that chance.

“So, do you?”

I glance away. “I told you I do.”

“What if he’s like me? What if he’s only looking to screw and ditch? What then?”

“It’s still not your problem. Remember what you told me this morning? That whatever’s going on between you and Kristen doesn’t concern me? Well, the same goes with me and Rohan. It doesn’t concern you.”

“The thing with Kristen”—he says hoarsely, swallowing hard—“it’s not going to be a problem anymore.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“It’s over. I broke up with her.”

My lips part in disbelief, breath escaping from my lungs in a rush. He broke up with Kristen?

“I ended it a few hours ago.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” He frowns, his brows drawn together. “Because it doesn’t feel right anymore? Because my feelings aren’t as strong as before?” He blows out a long breath. “All I know is that it’s unfair to string her along when my heart is no longer in it. To be honest, I don’t think it ever was.”

I can only stare at him in silence, still reeling from the bomb he just threw at my feet. I don’t even know how to react. Should I feel bad for Kristen? Or should I jump at the chance to make him mine?

But what if everything goes back to the way it was before Kristen entered the picture? Now that Dylan knows relationships are not for him, he’ll likely return to his philandering ways.

You know he will.

How can I even think I have a chance?

And that realization makes me ball my hands into fists, resentment flickering in my eyes. In a cold voice, I say, “Should we celebrate?”

He gives a blank look. “Why would we?”

“You’re a free guy again, right? Which means you can now go back to hooking up with different girls every week. That calls for a celebration, right?

“Or are you already planning to celebrate it with some girl tonight? It’s okay, I understand. Tomorrow then? Can you pen me in after school?”

Dylan looks at me like I just slapped him. “You really think that low of me?” He takes my silence as an answer, hurt clouding his features.

Not low. Just the truth. I avert my eyes, the expression on my face remaining neutral.

He laughs under his breath and shakes his head. “Jesus, of course you do.” Tearing his gaze away from me, he nods. “Right. Well, thanks for letting me know.”

But it’s not what he thinks. “Dylan—”

He ignores me, choosing to walk away.

Heart squeezing painfully in my chest, I clutch his jacket tighter around me and watch him climb into his pickup, driving off in a cloud of smoke.

Why does it feel like I just made everything worse?

Fourteen

Dylan and I don’t talk the rest of the week. In fact, we’ve been actively avoiding each other. If he’s around Nick and Sloan, I keep my distance. If I’m hanging out with them, he’ll do the same thing. I don’t know if our friends are noticing the tension between us, but they’re not saying anything.

This is our worst fight so far. It’s also the longest time we ever spent not talking to each other. And it sucks. I miss my best friend and I haven’t been able to sleep well at night because of it. The dark circles under my eyes are proof enough.

But what can I do? I still haven’t forgiven him for acting like a stupid caveman behind my back all these years. On the other hand, I feel bad for saying those hurtful words to him. It seems like all I’ve ever done lately is be a bitch to him.

News about his and Kristen’s breakup has already spread around the school. And now that Dylan is back to his “eligible bachelor” status, girls are flocking to him once again. I fully expected to see him return to his philandering ways in no time, but I actually haven’t seen him hang out with any girl.

This morning I caught him snapping at a girl for invading his personal space, humiliating her and completely shocking me. Is he scaring them off now, too?

I’ve seen Kristen around school and she’s always surrounded by her friends. Like they serve as her protective shields. Whenever she walks past, she pretends not to see me.

She still talks to El and Maddie though, so I know I’m the only one she’s ignoring. I wonder what changed, but my pride is keeping me from confronting her.

If she doesn’t want to be friends with me, then so be it.

Despite that, I still feel bad for her. I don’t need to have a boyfriend to know that being dumped sucks. And it shows. Kristen tries to look and act like she’s got it together, but those puffy eyes aren’t fooling anyone.

Still, every day I dread that I’ll see her and Dylan back together. That he will realize he made a mistake and he’ll win her back. But it never happens. I guess he’s truly done with her.

Stepping out of the school building, I take my iPod out and put my earphones on, Led Zeppelin’s Dazed and Confused flooding my ears. I start the search for Adam’s car when I reach the parking lot.

Since Dylan and I aren’t talking, I’ve been riding to and from the school with my twin and his girlfriend. It’s not an ideal setup, seeing as they’re so much worse than Dylan and Kristen ever were in the PDA department. Which is why I always put my earbuds on whenever I’m in the car with them.

A minute later and I manage to spot Adam’s Honda. But he and Maddie are nowhere to be found.

Ugh. I hate waiting.

I’m about to fish my phone out to call my twin when a hand suddenly rests on my shoulder, making me yelp and almost drop my iPod. Fuming, I spin around to face the culprit.

Rohan’s hands are raised in mock surrender, his lips twitching.

I narrow my eyes at him, pulling out my earbuds. “You really need to stop sneaking up on me.”

“Actually, I called your name. But you didn’t hear me,” he explains, motioning to the earphones in my hand.

“Oh. Right.” I press stop on the iPod and shove them both inside my bag. Glancing back at him, I let out a tight smile. “So, uh, hi.”

Here’s the thing: Dylan isn’t the only one I’ve been avoiding at school. Rohan, too. Unlike with Dylan, it hasn’t been a conscious decision. Not at first. I thought I needed some time alone to think. But eventually I realized I just wanted to avoid discussing a particular topic.

“About tomorrow night.”

Yeah, that topic. Today’s Friday, which means tomorrow’s our big date. I should be all over the moon with excitement. Never mind that it’s going to be my first date. I’m about to see one of the coolest bands ever perform tomorrow night. Who knows when I’ll get to see them again? But instead of looking forward to it, I’m having second thoughts.

Honestly, I’m torn between going and canceling. I want to tell Rohan I’m bailing, but a part of me still wants to go. I want to explore this thing between us. Find out if we have chemistry or whatever. Plus I really, really want to see Reckless Pursuit up close. But I can’t decide on what to do, so I’ve been avoiding him.

“We haven’t been able to talk. Every time I see you, you’re always preoccupied with something. Even in class.”

My guilt must be showing on my face. I glance away. “Rohan—”

“Is it because of McCafferty? Are you worried about him?”

I whip my head back to him. “Why would you say that? Wait.” I pause for a beat, frowning. “Is he still being a jerk to you? Because I already told him to leave you alone.”

“No, he’s not being an arse anymore,” he chuckles. “But he did talk to me.”

I go very still. “What did he say?”

“He told me he’d leave us alone.”

“Oh.” Us? What did Dylan mean? He’ll leave me alone, too? Is that what I want?

He clears his throat. “He also told me that he would, uh, break my pretty face and make the rest of my senior year a living hell if I make you cry.”

“Dylan said that?” I swallow down the sudden lump in my throat.

He did what I wanted him to do. He’s backing off. He did threaten Rohan, but he’s not interfering anymore. And that’s exactly what I want.

Then why aren’t you happy about it?

“That’s a good thing, right?” Rohan asks hesitantly, seeing my distress.

“Yeah. Of course.” I nod, distracted.

Then something behind Rohan catches my eyes. It’s Dylan and he’s heading to his pickup truck.

The sight of him propels my feet to move. No hesitation. I need to go to him.

“Bianca, where are you going?” Rohan calls after me.

“Sorry, something came up. I’ll call you later,” I holler over my shoulder, my feet picking up speed until I’m practically running.

I’m panting when I reach the pickup, climbing into the passenger seat just as Dylan starts the engine.

“Bianca?” He’s surprised to see me.

“Hey,” I wheeze out, raising a hand awkwardly.

“What are you doing here?” His face softens at first, then tenses, remembering our fight.

But I can only stare, longing punching me in the gut. Dammit, it’s been days, and I really missed him. Judging by the way his eyes are hungrily sweeping over my face, he missed me, too.

And his eyes—they have dark circles too. He’s even showing a two-day old stubble. But instead of making him look scraggly, they only work in his favor, adding to his ruggedness and appeal.

“D.” To my horror, tears well up in my eyes, my chin wobbling.

Dylan mutters a low curse then moves toward me in a flash. And then his arms are surrounding me, clutching me to him.

I so missed him. I hug him tight, taking in the heat of his body, tears falling freely down my cheeks. But thankfully I’m not bawling like a baby. I don’t think I’ll be able to live that down.

Quietly, I cry, clinging onto him like he’s my lifeline. It’s only been days, and yet it feels like it’s been a long time since the last time I talked to him, joked with him—hell, simply spent time with him.

It’s like a wall has been erected between us and every day it grows. I hate it.

Minutes later and I pull away, swiping at my cheeks.

He doesn’t let me stray far though, his arms are still wrapped around me, quietly dabbing his hanky on my eyes and cheeks, as if he doesn’t want to let me go.

“I’m sorry,” I sniff.

He sighs, finally pulling away, making me instantly miss his warmth. “No. I should be the one who’s sorry.”

“I was a bitch to you, D.”

“And I was a dick.”

Our gazes meet and we blurt out at the same time, “Let’s not fight again.”

We both break into a smile. But as much as I like to pretend that everything is back to normal—that everything is already straightened out—I can’t. We still need to talk.

He swipes at the remaining drops of tears on my cheeks. “Buckle in. I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Actually, can we go somewhere? To talk?”

He nods, only hesitating a little, before pulling out of the school parking lot.

I keep my eyes out the window as he drives, hoping that this talk won’t end with us yelling at each other. We’ve already had enough drama to last us through senior year.

We end up at the clearing, the highest point in Bayfield and overlooking our entire town. Me, Dylan, Nick and Sloan—and sometimes El—used to go here and chill out after a night of partying. It seems ages since the last time we’ve been here.

Dylan parks his truck a little close to the edge to get the best view and kills the engine.

We’re left in silence, but it’s not tense or heavy.

I break it, anyway. “Rohan told me that you talked to him.”

He doesn’t answer. Just looks at me quietly, his eyes hardening a little at the mention of Rohan’s name.

I sigh. “Threatening to make his senior year hell is way harsh, don’t you think?”

“Good,” he grunts, sounding like the caveman that he is. “I want him to think twice before hurting you.”

I choke out a laugh. “I don’t think Rohan will do that.”

I don’t even think we’ll come to that. We haven’t even had our first date and I already want to cancel on him. I’m already having second thoughts. And what about Rohan? He’s probably thinking of canceling the date himself after I practically ditched him to go to Dylan. I can’t blame him if he does.

“I appreciate the gesture, D, as harsh as it was. But you really didn’t have to do it.”

“I didn’t do it just for you.” He took a deep breath, turning his head away from me. “I did it for me, too.”

My eyes spring wide. “What do you mean?”

Our gazes lock, his filled with an intense emotion that makes my breath catch in my throat. “It’s my way of easing into the fact that I can’t keep you to myself anymore.”

He wants to keep me to himself? Warmth washes over me and my heart starts to thud hard against my chest.

“Did it work?” I whisper, licking my lips.

The air shifts around us as his eyes slide to my mouth, his gaze suddenly turning molten.

My mouth turns dry, my skin buzzing with awareness. Something clenches in my stomach. This is the first time he’s looked at me like that. Like he…wants me. Like he wants to kiss me.

And dammit if I didn’t want him to.

Suddenly emboldened, I move closer to him. “Dylan.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Bianca, I—”

But my phone chooses the moment to ring.

Dylan blinks, shaking his head like he just comes out of a deep trance. And I watch with disappointment as his expression morphs back to being unreadable. “You better answer that.”

Just like that, the moment is ruined.

Silently cursing whoever is calling, I fish my phone out. It’s Adam. I close my eyes. “Shit.”

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s Adam. I was supposed to catch a ride home with him. He’s still probably at school looking for me. I forgot to tell him I’m with you.” I end the call without answering and fire up a text instead.

Dylan sighs and starts the engine. “Tell him I’m driving you home.”

“I just did.” I stare at him expectantly, waiting for him to talk about what just happened there.

Because something did happen. Something changed between us. I felt it. It was as thick as the air around us. I even saw it in his eyes.

But he doesn’t say anything. He just puts the pickup in reverse and pulls out of the clearing.

I keep waiting for him to speak up, but the whole drive to my house is filled with silence. He’s not even looking at me, his eyes fully trained on the road.

I know we had a moment and I didn’t imagine it. But he’s acting like nothing happened.

Several minutes pass before I realize that Dylan is not going to say anything. He’s not going to address what happened.

And he confirms it when he drops me off in front of my house—only giving me a distracted “see you later”—and drives off, leaving me standing like an idiot in the driveway.

Fifteen

I’m lying in my bed staring at my walls, but not seeing anything. Instead, I’m mentally replaying the scene in Dylan’s pickup over and over.

Why did he act like nothing happened? I know in my gut that for a fleeting moment there, he was thinking of kissing me. I saw it. I felt it. Then he basically brushed me off.

But why would Dylan even think of kissing me? Why did he look at me like he wanted me? Like he felt something for me?

If he does, how did it happen? How could he feel that way when he was just with Kristen last week? It doesn’t make sense.

Dammit, I need answers. I won’t be able to go to sleep without knowing. And I’m freaking getting them.

Growling, I grab my phone and type in a text: Hey, u up?

But then I delete it without sending. What if he figures out I’m obsessing over that moment in the clearing? Does my text reveal my feelings? Making a face, I quickly compose another message—only to end up deleting it again.

This is stupid. Since when did I struggle to text Dylan. This is my best friend, for crying out loud. The best friend I’m in love with, granted, but my best friend nonetheless. We’re used to texting even the silliest things to each other.

You know what? Screw this. I’m just going to head over to his house. It’s only nine, anyway. I know he’s still awake at this time.

Grabbing my phone, I rush out the door and race downstairs. Then run into Adam who just exited the kitchen, a sandwich in his hand.

“Hey.”

“Hey, can I borrow your car?”

He shrugs. “Sure. Where are you going?”

“Thanks.” I walk past him, not answering his question, passing by the kitchen to snatch his keys from the key rack.

Then I head out the side door to the garage. Ten minutes later and I reach Dylan’s street. But instead of pulling up in front of his house, I park my brother’s car a few houses down. And I stay put instead of marching out.

How will he react when he sees me? What if he’s able to see through me? I wonder if he’ll know from the get-go that I want to talk about what happened this afternoon. That I need answers from him. That I’m hoping that the answers he’ll give me are the answers I’ve been hoping all this time.

Hope blooms in my chest. But it quickly dies out as doubts race in my head. What if we’re not in the same page at all? Like what if I’m just really imagining things?

Shit. I don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of Dylan. How am I supposed to face him after this?

I really didn’t think this through. Dammit, why do I have to be so impatient and impulsive all the time?

This is a bad idea. A bad, bad idea. I should head back and go home. Then the next time I see him, I’ll do what he did—pretend nothing happened. It should be easy, right? I’ve been pretending in front of him all these years. It will be a piece of cake.

Yeah, I should do that.

But what if...what if this is the only chance I’ll ever have? What if me chickening out will result to another Kristen coming along, and this time sticking around? Would I be able to live with myself knowing that I once had a chance to go after what I wanted and yet I blew it?

This is my chance to tell him how I feel. To make him open his eyes and see me standing right in front of him. To make him see that I’m the perfect girl for him. Not Kristen. Not those random girls he used to hook up with. But me. Just me.

All these years I’ve stayed in the sidelines, choosing to pine after him secretly instead of doing something about it. I haven’t even considered the possibility that he feels the same way and just doesn’t know it yet. Maybe when he finds out about my feelings, he’ll realize...

“He has to know,” I whisper.

Yeah, I can do this.

I’m finally going to do what I should have done a long time ago—woman up and fight for what I want. No half-assing this time. No weak confession that can be easily perceived as a joke. But a no-nonsense admission of what I really feel.

Determination courses through me, and that gives me the courage to open the door and climb out. With a hopeful look and purposeful strides, I make my way to Dylan’s house.

But when I get there, that hope dies out at the same time as my heart sinks to the ground. Because a few feet away, right outside the front door, are Dylan and Kristen—kissing.

I’m frozen to the spot, my whole body going numb, my vision turning black at the corners as everything around me fades to a dark color.

I don’t know how I managed to turn around and walk away, but I did. I don’t falter. I don’t stop to think, to feel anything. I just keep walking numbly until I reach the car.

Hands trembling, I open the door and get inside. They’re still trembling when I start the engine and drive off, still refusing to think, to feel anything.

I just pulled inside the garage when my phone vibrates in my pocket. I go very still. Is it Dylan? Did he and Kristen see me? No, they couldn’t have. I was standing in the dark part of the driveway.

It’s from an unknown number.

Hey Bianca, it’s me, Rohan. I got your number from your friend, El. We didn’t get to finish our conversation at the parking. We’re still on for tomorrow, right?

I blink at the screen, realizing I never got to cancel our date. I was secretly hoping I would. That I already had a reason not to go.

That’s when the pain hits me. It’s like a sucker-punch to the chest, robbing me of breath, drowning me in sorrow.

Tears stream down my cheeks, my vision blurring, but I don’t swipe them away. I let them fall.

Even as I type in a reply to Rohan. We’re still very much on. I can’t wait! :)

Sixteen

Mom is beside herself with excitement when Rohan shows up at our front door the following night. I’m so embarrassed for her I practically drag Rohan back to his car and order him to get us the hell out of there.

I’m pretty sure if we stayed a minute longer, Mom would ask us to pose for pictures like it’s the freaking prom night. I guess I can understand seeing as this is my first date— which she knows—and I never went to junior prom.

But it doesn’t make it any less mortifying.

Reckless Pursuit is playing in a bar three towns away and it takes us almost an hour to get there. We spend the whole drive over in silence. Which I’m thankful for. Rohan probably sensed early on that I’m not in the mood to talk. 

Hell, I’m not in the mood to do anything. Even the idea of seeing the band up close doesn’t excite me in the slightest. But I already said yes to the date and confirmed it when Rohan texted.

Besides, going out is a lot better than moping in my room and crying my eyes out. I’ve done enough of that the last twenty-four hours. Now I just want to forget.

Forget that the last night ever happened. Forget that I witnessed my best friend get back together with his girlfriend. Forget the fact that my heart shattered right there in his driveway.

Just…forget.

My eyes were puffy and bloodshot—that it was a miracle I could put my contacts on—when I woke up this morning. So I sneaked into my mom’s room and borrowed her makeup kit, then watched a dozen of YouTube tutorials just to learn how to use a concealer. Luckily, I managed to do a decent job of it.

I even dressed up for the date, literally. I’m wearing the red dress shirt Mom’s sister—Aunt Sierra—gave me last Christmas, which I only wore once, and paired it with my hot knee-high boots. I guess it worked because Rohan commented that I look beautiful, making Mom go “awww!” out loud—which drove me to get us out of the house.

My phone suddenly vibrates inside the purse on my lap, dragging me from my thoughts, causing me to jolt a little. Rohan gives me a sideways glance, but I ignore him and take my phone out.

My heart twists painfully when I see that it’s Dylan.

He’s been calling me all day and each time I press cancel. What’s the point, anyway? Why is he even bothering? He’s already back together with Kristen, so what does he want from me? 

Maybe he just wants to share the good news to drive the knife deeper.

Shoving the phone back inside, I furiously blink back the tears smarting in my eyes. Dammit, I’ve cried enough.

I need to be focusing all my attention on Rohan. He’s my date tonight, not Dylan. I’m already feeling bad that I’d been close to bailing out on him. The least I can do is to be in the moment.

Our date hasn’t even started yet. I still can have fun tonight. I will have fun.

The bar is packed when we get there and the line outside is insane. But sure enough, there’s a reserved table waiting for us, and it’s near the stage. Since we’re both underage, we just order Coke instead of alcohol, and settle on chips and salsa plus a bucket of chicken wings.

Glancing around and taking in the vibrant energy, my excitement starts to come back, making me momentarily forget about my boy problems.

And when Reckless Pursuit steps out on the stage, I join the cheering crowd, jumping to my feet and pumping my hands in the air, the wild energy around the place spurring me on. Then I sing along to every song, bopping my head to the music, throwing all my worries to the wind.

And it feels absolutely amazing.

Rohan looks pleased to see the huge grin on my face, simultaneously listening to the music and chuckling in amusement at my enthusiasm. Afterwards, he leads me backstage to introduce me to his cousin and the rest of the band.

Oh God, I can barely restrain myself from fangirling so hard.

Over the drive home, my throat starts to ache from too much singing and screaming. Even my cheeks hurt from smiling the whole time. But it’s so worth it.

“I’m glad you had fun,” Rohan tells me as we stand beside his car by the curb in front of my house.

“I did. It was great.”

It really was. I’m still riding the high from the great music and wild energy back in that bar. I’m glad I didn’t cancel the date. Otherwise, I’d still be in my room sulking and missing out on something fun.

“So, uh”—he rubs the back of his neck—”are you sure you don’t want me to walk you to your door?”

I shake my head. “It’s okay.”

He looks a little disappointed. “I guess I better go.”

“Right. See you on Monday?”

“Right.”

Rohan doesn’t move, not at first. But instead of getting into his car, he steps closer. Then he bends his head slowly, waiting for me to stop him, and kisses me when I don’t. Soft and gentle, as if making sure we’re on the same page.

Tentatively, I kiss him back, knowing in my heart that this is the first and the last time I’ll ever kiss him. It will never happen again. Because no matter how much I try to move on—no matter how hard I try to forget—there’s only one boy I’ll ever want to kiss.

And it’s like Rohan knows it, too. Because then, he puts his arms around me and deepens the kiss, and with it, a sense of urgency and finality.

When we pull back, I feel like crying. I know Rohan will make a perfect first boyfriend. Just not for me.

He searches my eyes and what he sees in them makes him sigh in defeat. “It’s McCafferty, isn’t it?”

My cheeks heat up, but I nod mutely, knowing he deserves to know the truth.

“I hope he knows how much of a lucky bastard he is.”

I choose not to answer that. “Rohan, I like you. You know that, right?”

“But you don’t like me enough.”

“I’m sorry.” I wince.

“Me, too.” He smiles a sad smile that makes my heart hurt. Then he kisses my forehead and quietly goes back into his car.

I watch him drive off, mourning the unfairness of it. That boy has been more than willing to be mine, yet I couldn’t make myself fall for him.

I’ve never hated the saying, “The heart wants what the heart wants” more than I do in this moment.

Seventeen

Heart heavy, I get inside the house, hoping that Mom isn’t waiting for me to launch her twenty questions about the date. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now. I just want to be left alone.

Thankfully though, no one is around. So I’m able to reach my room without any interruption.

The moment I step inside, I spot Dylan’s jacket thrown haphazardly on my La-Z-Boy. That’s right, I haven’t been able to return it yet. After changing into a comfortable shirt and boy shorts, I pick it up and bring it to my nose. Then take a deep breath, inhaling Dylan’s scent. It’s faint, but it’s still there.

I put it on, just like what I did last night and the night before that. I can’t have the boy, but at least I have his jacket. Pathetic, I know.

“It looks so good on you.”

I freeze, my heart stopping for a second. Then I whirl around to see Dylan sitting on my windowsill. “Dylan, w-what the hell are you doing here?”

My cheeks are flaming. He wasn’t here when I was changing. Oh God, did he just see me inhale his jacket? Somebody please come in here and kill me.

Should I take it off? But the damage has already been done. He already saw me in it. I’ll just look more pathetic if I do that. Just play it off and act cool.

I clear my throat and tip my chin up, narrowing my eyes at him.

His lips twitch. “I needed to see you.” He pushes from the window, approaching.

“So you sneaked into my window like a creep?”

He raises a brow as if to say, Weren’t you the one caught inhaling my jacket?

I close my eyes briefly. Can I just die in peace?

“You talk as if I haven’t done this before.”

It’s true. Whenever he wants to hang out and it’s already late, he stealthily climbs up my room through my window while everyone in the house remains clueless. He even parks his pickup a few houses down just to be safe. But he hasn’t done that in a while.

“Well, what do you want?”

“I’ve been calling you all day and you weren’t answering.” He gives me a wounded look. “Are you avoiding me?”

“Why would I avoid you?” I cross my arms, eyes averted. He shouldn’t be here. Why can’t he just leave me alone? “I was out on a date with Rohan.”

His jaw tenses, his eyes flashing with anger. “I know. I was walking over here when his car pulled up.”

My eyes go wide. Did he see the kiss?

The urge to explain suddenly hits me, but why should I? He was just kissing Kristen last night. He doesn’t have a say on what I do or who I kiss.

“Did you have fun?” he asks in a gruff voice.

“Yeah, I did. It was a good date.” Until I ruined it.

“I can tell. You dressed up for him.” Dylan scoffs, contempt lacing his voice. But his eyes tell the opposite. They’re hot and hooded as his eyes take me in, making me shiver a little. “Yet he didn’t even walk you to the door. Some date he was.”

There he is again. Acting like he’s jealous. I would have believed it to be true if I didn’t see him kiss her with my own two eyes. Now I know he’s just being selfish. He doesn’t want me to be with other guys, but he’s free to be with any girl he wants. He doesn’t care about what I want. He only cares about himself.

A wave of white-hot anger sweeps through me at that realization. “Whatever I do with Rohan is not your concern. Whoever I date—be it Rohan or some other guy—is none of your business, okay? How many times do I have to tell you that before you get it through your thick skull?”

He visibly flinches, like I just slapped him.

I take a deep breath to calm my grated nerves. I’ve hurled enough hurtful words at him in the past week alone. No matter how angry I am right now, I can’t do that again.

But if we keep this on, I’ll be blurting out words I know I’ll regret later. “You know what, D? I’m really tired. Can we just talk tomorrow or something?”

Actually, I prefer that we don’t talk about this ever again. I just need him to leave me alone. I need him to stay away.

Because I’m done. I’m done with all these arguments and all the heartaches I’ve endured. I thought I could continue pretending that everything is fine, but I can’t anymore. I can’t continue acting unaffected whenever I see him with Kristen or other girls. I can’t smile and laugh around them when inside I’m dying.

My date with Rohan may have ended in a disaster, but I realized something from it. I deserve that kind of date. I want to experience it again. And agonizing over Dylan won’t get me that.

I have to let him go.

If avoiding him and keeping my distance from him is what it takes, so be it.

The finality of my decision must be showing on my face, because Dylan looks suddenly frantic.

“No, wait. Just wait.” Cursing under his breath, he runs a hand through his hair, making the ends stick out. Then paces the floor.

I watch him warily. Why does he look so agitated?

He stops in front of me, his eyes wild. “Ask me again.”

I back up a step, my eyes springing wide. “Ask you what?”

He follows. “Why Kristen and I broke up.”

My back hits the wall. “What does it matter?”

They already got back together, didn’t they? I don’t think they even broke up in the first place.

“Just ask me.” He’s looming over me now, forcing me to cock my head up to meet his eyes.

What is he doing? My chest rises and falls erratically, every nerve ending in my body crackling to life at his closeness.

“D, just go home.”

“Please.” The desperate plea in his voice does me in.

“Why did you break up?” I whisper.

“Because of this.”

He doesn’t even give me the time to react. His lips have already descended on mine, kissing me, sucking the breath out of my lungs.

I can’t move, let alone think. I stand there, frozen. But when he pries my lips open, demanding entry, I find myself kissing him back, my tongue tangling with his. Then my hands are winding their way around his neck, pulling him closer.

It’s not sweet. It’s not gentle. And it’s the opposite of the kiss I shared with Rohan. Instead it’s hard and fast and intense, with a hint of desperation. It makes my head swim, my knees weak, every cell in my body alive and burning.

This boy. I’ve been in love with him for so long. Waited for him to finally see and love me as more than his best friend. And right now, he’s kissing me like that’s exactly what he feels. Like he’s felt it all along.

When our lips pull apart, we’re both left panting and breathless. Dylan’s arms are around me and I’m flushed to his chest.

My lips are swollen from that intense kiss, my heart hammering in my ears. I can feel my knees wobbling, threatening to give out.

Dylan just kissed me. I can’t believe he kissed me.

“Did Mallick’s kiss feel the same?”

I stiffen. What did he just say? I look up at him and there it is—the smug self-satisfied look on his face. Was the kiss a game to him?

Angry and humiliated, I push him away, tears stinging the backs of my eyes. “I don’t know, D. Did it feel the same when you kissed Kristen last night?”

His face turns white. “How did you—”

Tears spill over, but I wipe them away, glaring hard at him. “Because I was there! I saw the whole thing!”

He mutters a curse, then frantically he says, “Wait. Let me explain. It’s not what you think.”

“I’m not an idiot! I saw what I saw!” I lower my voice down. The last thing I need is my parents barging in here. “You know what, I’m actually glad. Because I was there to talk to you. Seeing you with Kristen saved me from making a fool of myself.”

“I didn’t kiss her, okay? She kissed me. There’s a difference. I pushed her away and sent her home. Nothing else happened. Please, you have to believe me,” he pleads.

I rip my gaze away. “You don’t have to lie to me, Dylan. If you’re back together, I’ll understand.” My voice cracks, a lump lodged in my throat. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell her you kissed me. It was just a mistake, anyway.”

“It wasn’t. Don’t say that.”

“Dylan, come on. Let’s not make a big deal out of it.” I swallow hard. “You’re back with Kristen. A-And I’m with Rohan now.”

“Liar.”

My eyes fly up to his. His eyes are flashing with anger.

“I heard what Mallick said.”

“No, you didn’t,” I say, a strong denial in my voice.

“Why did he say I’m a lucky bastard, Bianca?” he asks softly.

Oh God, he knows!

Self-preservation kicks in. “I don’t know.”

“I do.” He licks his lips. “I think you feel something for me. I felt it in the way you kissed me. That kiss tells me that you feel at least a fraction of what I feel for you.”

What he feels for me?

“B”—Dylan takes a deep breath—“I’m fucking in love with you.”

Air rushes out of me. “W-What did you just say?” Dylan is in love with me? What… When… How… My mouth goes dry. Pulse pounds a mile a minute, deafening my ears, making me dizzy. Breathe. “B-But you’re back together,” I sputter. “I saw you—”

He advances on me, his eyes looking even more desperate and frantic than before. His fingers touch my cheek. “I told you it was nothing. She kissed me, not the other way around. I didn’t even kiss her back. And I made it perfectly clear to her that we’re not getting back together.”

“This”—I shake my head—“is all so confusing.”

His face falls. “You don’t believe me.”

I pull away from his touch and sit on my bed. My hands are trembling as I place them on my lap. “What do you want me to say? You just told me you’re in love with me. That’s the last thing I expected to hear from you. I don’t even know what to think.”

Just a few minutes ago, I decided to let go of my feelings for him. I was ready to give up. Now he’s telling me he’s in love with me. I had no idea. How did it even happen?

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

No, he wouldn’t. That’s not Dylan. He’s always been honest. I’m the one who lies. But this doesn’t add up.

I stare up at him. “Are you sure you’re in love with me? Because a week ago you were just dating Kristen. And days before that you were hooking up with different girls. How—When did you manage to fall for me? How could you even know?”

And that’s exactly why I’m not jumping up with joy at his confession. Why I can’t bring myself to believe him. It just doesn’t make sense.

“Did you know when exactly I started scaring guys from going after you?” he asks instead of answering me.

“When?”

“When I caught you making out with that dick Harrelson.”

I stare at him, stunned. “You saw that?”

“When I saw his hands on you, it almost drove me crazy. I couldn’t stand it. So I told Harrelson I’d break his nose if I ever saw him kissing you again.”

My mouth falls open. That’s when it started?

“After that I started threatening guys who dared to show interest in you—at least the ones who had a chance to win you over. At the time, I thought I was just being protective. That I was only looking out for you, steering you away from those douchebags.” His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard.

“But that’s not the truth. And it took me a long damn time to realize that. I was a complete dumbass. Seeing you with Mallick scared me. I saw the way you looked at him. I knew right then he had a chance. So I’ve been an asshole, acting out in frustration. And when I realized I’m in love with you, I broke up with Kristen.”

“Is that why you came over to my house that afternoon? But why didn’t you tell me?” I ask in a quiet voice. 

“I didn’t know what to do. I was completely floored by my feelings for you. Then when I asked if you really liked Mallick, you said yes. I didn’t want to stand in the way anymore. Plus Nick told me to stop being a dick. That I wouldn’t win you that way.”

“You talked to Nick?” Did Nick tell him I’m in love with him? “Did he say anything else?”

He barks out a laugh, shaking his head. “He told me he knew about my feelings for you all along, but the fucker didn’t say a thing about it. Just waited for me to figure it all out on my own.” He puffs out a breath, brows drawn together. Is he blushing? “He also said I should take the stick out of my ass and go after my girl before another guy snatches her from me.”

My girl. The way he said those words. The way he’s looking at me. And his whole confession… All of them are making my heart flutter, urging me to believe him.

But it’s all too sudden. Too much.

I suck in a breath, filling my lungs with air. “Dylan, I—”

He squats in front of me, taking my hands in his. “He also told me to give you time. To not push you. That you’ll be rightfully confused and disbelieving. Turns out he’s right.” He chuckles darkly. “So it’s also right that I listen. I’ve laid all my cards on the table, B. Now it’s your turn to do whatever you want to do to them. Once you made your decision, you know where to find me.” Grazing my cheek with the back of his hand, he gives me a close-lipped smile and stands up.

Then quietly climbs out my window, leaving me stunned and reeling from his parting words.

Eighteen

I don’t know how I managed to sleep soundly last night, but I did. Maybe because Dylan confessed he’s in love with me—in love with me! How did that happen? Did last night even take place? Or was I just dreaming the whole time?

No, it’s been real. He really came to tell me that.

A slow smile breaks across my face as I sip my morning coffee. To be honest, I kind of feel like I’m on top of the world. I guess it’s already sinked in.

But what am I going to do? Dylan said it’s up to me, that the ball is in my court now. Should I go over to his house and declare my love for him?

I don’t know. All I know is that everything is starting to make sense. Like why he’s been acting like an asshole toward Rohan. Why he was scaring those guys off. Although he already explained it himself, it’s just now starting to be clear to me.

But I’m still apprehensive.

If I were any other girl, I’d probably be jumping at the chance to be with Dylan. But I’m not any other girl. I’m the girl who silently pined away while he showered attention to other girls. I’m the one who had to pretend like his hookups didn’t affect me. And that girl turning out to be the one he’s in love with? It’s not an easy transition.

How do I convince myself that Dylan’s feelings for me are real?

That question effectively wipes the smile off my face.

“Princess, is everything okay?”

“Huh?” I blink at my Dad’s concerned voice, finally noticing that we’re the only two left on the table.

He’s sitting across from me, with his iPad propped in front of him, a mug of coffee right next to it. “A minute ago you were smiling like a Cheshire cat. Now you’re frowning like someone just died. What’s wrong?”

Screw it. Dad’s here and I need someone to talk to. It’s not like he’s not the right person for it. He actually gives good advice. And I trust his wisdom.

“Dylan told me he’s in love with me.”

“Well, it’s about time,” Dad says, not even the least bit surprised.

“About time? What do you mean?”

His eyes soften. “Princess, anyone who’s paying attention can tell that boy has it bad for you. Your mom and I were just waiting for him to stop fooling around and realize it himself.”

I wrinkle my nose. Are my parents actually rooting for me and Dylan? But Mom was just so excited about Rohan last night.

“She only gave up when that British kid came along.” Well, that answers that. “I take it the date didn’t go well last night? Otherwise, we would be talking about him, not Dylan.”

“Oh, the date went well.” I look down, guilt washing over me again. “And I like him, I do. It’s just that—”

“He’s not Dylan.”

I nod. “He’s not Dylan.”

He gives me a stern look. “I hope you made your feelings clear to him.”

“He actually figured it out himself.” I grimace. “And I still feel terrible about it.”

“Not much you can do about it. You can’t force yourself when your heart’s not in it. It’s unfair to him and to you,” he says sagely, sipping on his coffee.

“I know that.” I blow out a sigh. “But it still doesn’t stop me from feeling bad.” I pause for a few beats. “Dad, how did you know that Dylan’s in love with me? What clued you in?”

Dad rubs his few-day-old stubble. “I guess you can say it’s the little things. When you were kids, he would bring you things just to make you smile. I remember when your favorite doll broke when you were eight and you were inconsolable. Two days later he came here to give you a new doll—the same replica of your old one.”

My eyes widen in amazement. “Oh my God, I remember that.”

Adam had accidentally broken my favorite doll and I had been so devastated. Until Dylan gave me the replacement with a sheepish smile on his face. When I asked him how he managed to get it, he said his mom agreed to buy it in exchange of doing some chores around the house.

How could I forget that? It was only one of the many momentous things Dylan did for me. Like how he brought me to the music festival last year as a surprise present for my seventeenth birthday.

So many times he went out of his way to make me happy. And I realize just now that I’ve taken them for granted.

If I had focused on them long enough, maybe I would have realized a long time ago that he felt the same way. Instead I chose to focus on the girls around him. I chose to bottle my feelings instead of expressing them openly.

“Of course I also remember him glaring at any boy who dared to look at you for more than a few seconds.”

I chuckle, remembering the looks Dylan sent Rohan at the drive-in. “He still does that, actually.”

“So, what’s the problem? Don’t you feel the same?”

“I do,” I admit. “But I’m scared, Dad. What if he ends up breaking my heart? He isn’t exactly Mr. Commitment.”

Because where Dylan’s concerned, that’s a possibility. We aren’t even in a relationship and yet I’ve already cried buckets of tears for him.

“Maybe he will, maybe he won’t. But you'll never know for sure until you try. For what it’s worth, I believe that boy would rather hurt himself than deliberately break your heart.” The soft expression on his face disappears and once again replaced by a stern look. “But this means he’s not allowed to sneak into your room anymore.”

My eyes bug out. “You know about that?”

He pats my hand indulgently. “Your mom and I have always known.”

Nineteen

I think about what Dad said throughout the day. I also look back at the times Dylan had unknowingly showed me he loves me. How he drapes his jacket over me when I’m cold. How he sits through a thousand chick flicks and rom-coms with me, grumbling under his breath but staying put all the same. How he goes up to my room to fetch me a blanket when he sees me already feeling asleep. How he freely lets me use his arm and shoulder as my personal pillow when that happens. And many other meaningful gestures that I’m only remembering now.

They all make me realize one thing: Dylan isn’t the only one perfectly clueless. It’s both of us.

So when afternoon rolls in, I come up with a decision. I spot Dylan’s jacket before heading out the door, and I realize I need a “reason” to see him. Call it lame, but I’m taking it with me.

Who knows? Maybe he really wants it back. I’m just being a considerate best friend and—hopefully—soon-to-be girlfriend.

But when I move to grab it, something else falls to the floor.

A mascara.

Kristen’s.

Frowning, I pick it up. I didn’t know she left it behind. Judging from the brand name printed on it, it has to be expensive. Surely, she’ll want this back.

Guess I have to do something first.

Twenty minutes later, I find myself standing in front of Kristen’s house and knocking on the door. To be honest, I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to come here. I still don’t. But I know that if I’m going to return her mascara, I need to do it here and not in school. I doubt she’d give me the time of the day there.

The door opens, revealing Kristen who looks pretty even in a simple shirt and yoga pants, the bun on top of her head in complete disarray.

She greets me with a scowl. “Oh, you.”

Of course she’s not happy to see me. Why am I not surprised?

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Did you come here to gloat?”

I blink at her. “Excuse me?”

Kristen rolls her eyes. “Dylan already told me, okay? You don’t have to play pretend.”

“What are you talking about?”

Confusion takes over her features. “Are you actually being serious? You have no idea? She barks out a dark laugh. “You didn’t know that he dumped me for you?”

Wait, what? Did Dylan actually tell her what he feels for me? No wonder she’s been ignoring me at school.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

My expression darkens. What is she implying? “If you’re saying Dylan cheated on you with me, you’re way off base. Dylan was faithful to you the whole time. We didn’t fool around and sneak behind your back. I would’ve never done that to you. The whole time you two were together I treated you as a friend. I had nothing to do with your breakup.”

“Friend, huh?” She shoots me a smile dripping with venom. “Well, friend, if I ask you not to go after Dylan, will you do that?”

I stare at her mutely, my mouth opening and closing.

“Thought so.” She smirks. Then her smile turns bitter. “I came to see him Friday night, you know? Hoping to patch things up with him. Thinking he was just confused and I still could change his mind. That he’d see that breaking up with me was a mistake. I was even desperate enough to kiss him. But you know what he did? He pushed me away and told me point blank he’s in love with someone else—you.

“Can’t say I was completely surprised. I’ve always had a feeling that there’s something between you. I’m not an idiot. Do you think I never noticed how your eyes sparkle whenever you look at him? I know you hated me that night we broke the news to you. You were glaring at us at the party the whole time. Seriously, why do you think I kept kissing him in front of you?”

I gape at her. “You were doing that on purpose?”

Here I thought Kristen Stevenson was a goody two-shoes. But turns out, this girl can be just as much as a bitch as I am. Clearly, I was wrong in my assessment of her.

“Why did you even befriend me?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “You’re my enemy. I had to keep you close.”

Wow. She really is a bitch. And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m actually impressed. She had me fooled.

“I thought I was winning.” Her lips form a thin line. “But I couldn’t make Dylan let go of you no matter how I tried. I couldn’t seem to shake you off. He talked about you all the time. Bianca this, Bianca that—ugh, it was so annoying.

“It’s like you were always there with us even when you were not. And you were always a priority to him. I’ll never forget how he ditched me just to drive you home.” She sneers, “Well, that explains it now. The asshole is just as into you.”

I already decided that I believe Dylan. That I’m going to take a chance on him. But to hear his words practically echoed by someone else—especially Kristen—and after my conversation with Dad this morning, I know now that I made the right choice.

Without thinking, I break into a giddy smile.

Kristen, on the other hand, looks like she wants to punch me in the face.

Shit, why do I have to be so insensitive? “Kristen—”

“Now that you know, feel free to get lost. Your time to gloat is over.” She moves to close the door, but I put up a hand to stop her.

“Wait. That’s not why I’m here.” Fishing the mascara from my pants pocket, I show it to her. “I actually came over to return it to you.”

“Oh.” Her face softens, if only a little, as she takes it from me. “I wondered where I left it.”

“It must have fallen off during our sleepover.”

Our eyes lock, and I know right then we’re both remembering that night. She already decided I was her enemy. But that sleepover had been a lot of fun for her, too. She genuinely enjoyed herself. She can lie about it all she wants, but she won’t fool me.

God, it felt so long ago when it only happened last week. So much has changed since then. I feel a twinge in my chest, knowing the chance of that happening again is zero.

I clear my throat. “Do you think, if Dylan wasn’t in the picture, we could be friends?”

Kristen rolls her eyes and looks at me with disdain. “No. You’re not cool enough for me.” Then she slams the door in my face.

“Bitch,” I mutter, but a small smile pulls at my lips.

Twenty

I put Dad’s car into park and turn off the ignition, staring at Walter’s garage. Am I really going to profess my love for Dylan here? Where his dad and a few mechanics are sure to witness the whole thing?

But this beats doing it at school where we can attract an even bigger audience. I don’t need that kind of attention. I cringe just thinking about it.

I take a deep breath, my eyes never leaving the garage. I can’t see Dylan from here. But I know he’s there somewhere. He always helps with car repairs during the weekends.

I wonder if he can see my dad’s car and recognize it. No, I can’t let him come here. I have to go in there myself.

Ugh. Why are my hands so clammy, my heart hammering like crazy? Why am I so nervous? It’s not like this isn’t going to end well. I already know his feelings. It’s just my turn to come clean to him. There’s no way this is going to end bad, right?

This is what you’ve always wanted, Bianca. It’s time you go for it.

I suck in another deep breath. It’s now or never. Pushing the door open, I grab Dylan’s jacket from the passenger seat and climb out of the car, striding purposefully toward the garage.

It’s Walter who sees me first. He grins widely. Oh yeah, he knows the real reason why I’m here. And it has nothing to do with the jacket in my hand.

“Boys, why don’t we all take a break for a while? I’m ordering pizza,” he announces to his guys.

They whistle and cheer on, shuffling inside the shop—most likely toward the pantry. Walter follow after them, but not without mouthing “good luck” to me and winking conspiratorially.

Fighting back a laugh, I let my eyes wander over to Dylan. He’s in a corner, working under the hood of a black car, wearing coveralls like the last time I was here. He’s leaning forward, his back to me, but I’ll recognize his sexy built anywhere.

I swallow hard, forcing my feet to move forward.

Halfway there, Dylan senses my presence. He straightens and turns around, his eyes locking onto mine. Surprise crosses his features. His eyes soften. Then I see it. Longing—plain and naked in his face.

So intense it takes my breath away. I can get used to that.

I halt my steps just a few feet away, and watch him wipe his greasy hands on a towel before walking over to me. Lamely, I lift my hand carrying his jacket. “I brought this. Thought you want it back.”

He looks a little disappointed. “I don’t mind. I like you wearing it. Is that the only reason why you came here?”

I shake my head.

He studies my face. “You’re wearing your glasses again.”

My cheeks heat up. While I was putting on my contacts, I remembered his comment about my eyes.

I wore them for you. “Don’t get used to it.”

He looks pleased just the same. He totally knows I’m wearing them for him.

Silence passes between us, our eyes remaining locked, as if we can’t tear our gazes off each other.

“Why are you really here, B?” Dylan steps closer and I detect the hope in his voice.

I raise a hand to stop him from further approaching. “You’ve already said your piece. Now, it’s my turn.”

The corner of his lips tilts up and it momentarily distracts me.

I scrunch up my nose at him and he grins wide, as if knowing his effect on me. We haven’t even started clearing everything yet and he’s already working his charms on me.

I clear my throat, butterflies forming a line inside my stomach. “Last night, you were right. I wouldn’t kiss you like that if I didn’t feel anything. But there’s one thing you don’t know.” I pause to gauge his reaction.

But he only stares at me patiently, as if he knows how important this moment is for me.

“Honestly, I was afraid to come here. I didn’t want to get my heart broken. But someone basically told me I wouldn’t know if it was worth the risk if I didn’t try.” I swallow hard. “You see, Dylan McCafferty, before you even realized your feelings for me, I was already miles ahead of you. You only found out about it recently. But me? I’ve known that I’m in love with you since seventh grade.”

His mouth falls open. I just shocked him.

My eyes start to well up with tears, but I blink them away. “All this time, I’m just waiting for you to get with the program.” I choke out a laugh. “Seriously, D, what took you so long?”

Dylan visibly swallows, his eyes filling with stunned amazement. Then he closes the distance between us, his hand trembling as he tips my chin. “All this time?”

“All this time.”

His eyebrows pinch together, his eyes searching over my face. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I did.” I scowl. The ass doesn’t even remember?

He scowls back. “No, you didn’t. Or we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

“Dude, I literally told you, but you just laughed in my face.”

“Huh? When?”

“You really don’t remember?” I practically whine.

A thoughtful look washes over his features. “I swear. You know, maybe I wasn’t even aware that you were serious. I probably thought you were just joking.”

“And if you realized I was serious what would you have done?” I challenge.

Dylan smirks, his arms going around my waist to pull me flush against him. “Then I’d probably realize what I really feel for you sooner instead of spending all this time being a dumbass.” Then he pouts, looking so perfectly adorable right then I want to kiss him. “But seriously, B, when was that?”

Then it hits me. I can kiss him. And I’m free to do that whenever I want. Starting right now.

I pull his head down as I push up on my toes to kiss him. But at the last moment, I remember something. “Wait.”

“What?” he groans as I pull back slightly. He nuzzles my neck, making me shiver.

“Stop”—I gasp—“I’m not done yet.” He pouts and I almost laugh before turning serious. “You do realize you’re mine now, right? Which means no hooking up with other girls—not even flirting. It’s just me from now on, right?” I narrow my eyes into slits to show him how serious I am.

He plants a brief kiss on my lips. “I like it when you’re jealous, it’s sexy.”

“D!”

“Okay, listen.” Dylan blows out a breath and cups my face in his hands. “I know I’ve caused you a lot of hurt. But as much as I want to kick my ass over it, I can’t change the past. I can’t undo what’s already been done. But I can tell you this: those girls are a thing of the past. And baby, if you were paying attention, you’d know I’m not even entertaining them these days.” He places his forehead against mine. “It’s just you from now on. I promise you that.”

“Kristen hates us.” Probably even Rohan, too.

“I know.” He frowns, remorse swimming in his eyes. “But I couldn’t lead her on. Staying with her would only hurt her even more. I couldn’t do that to her.” His eyes soften. “Plus I couldn’t stay away from you anymore.”

I know the feeling, Dylan.

A happy sigh escapes me and I grin from ear to ear. “Okay, I believe you.” I really do.

“Good. Now shut up and kiss me.” He even puckers his lips.

I roll my eyes, but happily comply.

The End

Thank you for reading! Did you like this book? Please don’t forget to leave a review. It’s never demanded, but always appreciated. If you want to get the latest updates on the Bayfield High gang and upcoming releases, you can like my Facebook page and join my mailing list.

Turn the page for a sneak peak of Kiss and Make Up, the second book in the Bayfield High series.

Sneak Peak: Kiss and Make Up

“Josh hasn’t texted yet. I’m worried. Do you think he’s going to break up with me?” Lexi Santiago, my best friend, whines from across the table.

She’s been complaining about her college boyfriend since this morning, so I just tune her out and continue playing with the fries on my plate.

We’re having lunch at the cafeteria but I can barely manage to eat. Not by choice. My appetite has been low for more than a month now. It’s to the point that when I checked my weight this morning, I realized I’ve lost almost ten pounds. A few pounds more and I’ll be dangerously close to being skinny.

I know I shouldn’t keep this up. But I just can’t force myself to gain my appetite back.

Pathetic, but my health isn’t the only thing suffering. My grades are dropping and I’m in danger of failing. I find it hard to concentrate in my classes. I can’t count the times I’ve been called on by my teachers for answers only to end up staring blankly at them.

Don’t even get me started on my extracurricular and after-school activities. As the president of the Community Service Club, I should be on top of our latest projects. But if someone asks me what those projects are, I’ll probably draw a blank.

Even my usually thriving babysitting-slash-tutoring job is currently on a hiatus.

I miss the kids I teach and look after a few nights a week. But what can I do? I’m distracted and miserable these days. I can’t be around them in both conditions, or else, I’ll just mess up. So I’m taking a break.

And the cause of all of that? Well, he’s right across the room.

Adam Hayes.

The boy who broke my heart.

Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him.

But it’s too late. My eyes have already betrayed me, straying back to his table, for the third time since I walked into the cafeteria.

Staring at him, a familiar ache twists in my chest. He's sitting with his best friends Sean Murphy and Brandt Thomas, along with a few guys, laughing and showing off those damn dimples.

Ugh. I really hate those dimples.

He’s not looking my way, thank God. Otherwise, he would’ve caught me staring. Again. The number of times he did in the past week alone makes me want to claw my eyes out.

Mackenzie Brown, Sean's girlfriend, is also in the table with them. As always, the new couple looks to be lost in their own world. Their heads are bent close together, whispering to each other. The two of them are so cute together it’s practically nauseating.

“Mads, are you even listening?”

I peel my gaze away from their table, focusing back on my best friend.

What is she talking about again?

Oh, right. Josh.

“Didn’t he just call you last night?”

“But he said he’d text me today,” Lexi pouts.

I stifle an eye-roll.

If there’s a poster child for uber-clingy girlfriends, it’s Lexi. Sometimes I even wonder how her relationship managed to last this long. She’s been dating Josh for over two years now, starting when we were only sophomores and he was a junior.

I thought they’d finally break up when he moved two hundred miles away for college, but they surprisingly stayed together. Lexi even told me she’s planning to attend the same university he goes to when we graduate next year.

I’m a little skeptic but I don’t want to spoil her plans. She’s really excited about it.

“Chill, Lex. He’s just probably busy with his classes. Why don’t you call him later when you get home?”

“But what if he doesn’t want to talk to me?”

Oh, for God’s sake. This time I don’t stop from rolling my eyes. “You’re being silly.”

“I can’t help it!” she whimpers, then eyes the fries on my plate. “Are you going to eat those?”

Lips twitching in amusement, I push my plate toward her. “Help yourself.”

“I’m supposed to be on a diet,” Lexi says wistfully, but then shrugs and picks up some fries. “I’ll start again tomorrow.”

Lexi is always “on a diet.” She’s not overweight, though. Far from it. But she’s always been conscious of her body.

We’re about the same height - around five-nine. But while I have a willowy frame, Lexi has always been curvy - great rack, small waist, wide hips, big butt.

Boys love looking at her. They literally trip over themselves just to get her attention. And she eats it all up. But there are times when she hates looking at herself in the mirror. She says as much whenever we go shopping and she struggles to find the "perfect” pair of jeans.

She blames her mom - who was a beauty queen back in the Philippines before moving here - whose looks she inherited.

Which is a load of bull, because she’s absolutely gorgeous. Aside from having an hourglass figure, Lexi has long, luscious black hair and naturally golden brown skin that doesn't require tanning to maintain the color. Lucky girl.

I, on the other hand, have to spend some time under the sun just so I won't be pasty-white. And my ash blonde hair only emphasizes my pale complexion.

"Anyway, what are you planning to do tonight?" Before I can open my mouth, she quickly adds, "Please don't say you're going to mope around again."

I glare at her. "I never said that."

She points a fry at me. "You're right. You just do."

"I'm not moping around."

Lexi arches a brow. "Then why did you make a break-up playlist on Spotify and listen to it every night?"

"Sshhh. Lower your voice down."

She's right though. I've been reduced to a pathetic mess ever since I broke up with Adam. No, scratch that. Ever since he broke up with me.

My first boyfriend, my first everything. And my first heartache.

It sucks.

If this is what love always entails, then I'm going to swear off committed relationships for the rest of my life. Then I wouldn't have to get hurt and endure a broken heart again. I'll just be that cool middle-aged woman who loves to travel and remains romantically unattached, only entertaining casual relationships and having meaningless sex.

God, that sounds depressing.

I'm not a hopeless romantic by any means. That's all Lexi. But I've always known that I want to get married and have my own family someday. And I've always envisioned Adam to be my husband.

Until the day he dumped me.

Now I can't even stand to hear the word "wedding."

"Is he still trying to talk to you?" Lexi asks, glancing over her shoulder at him.

"Yeah."

Adam tried to talk to me this morning. For the thousandth time. But just like his previous attempts, I completely ignored him. Once again, his lousy explanations fell on deaf ears.

Did he honestly think I'd give him the time of day after he heartlessly dumped me in the locker hall for everyone to see? And then refused to listen when I tried to explain myself? Turnabout’s fair play, right?

Besides, as far as I'm concerned, there's nothing to talk about anymore. I don't even want to see his face.

Then why do you keep on seeking him out, you hypocrite?

"Shut up."

"What?" Lexi gives me a confused look.

"Um, nothing."

"Slut." A guy wearing a thick eyeliner coughs into his hand as he passes by our table. His equally emo-looking friend behind him snickers.

"It wasn't her. Didn't you get the memo?" Lexi snaps, making them jump and scurry away. She even throws a few fries at them, causing me to choke out a laugh. "Jerkwads!"

God, I love this girl. Drama queen aside, she's the bestest best friend a girl can ever have. She's been there for me when half the school shut me out and treated me like a pariah, pouncing at anyone who dared to talk crap about me. She’s been my rock through the whole ordeal.

"I can’t believe you’re still getting hell for that." Our friend Amanda Hall sets her tray down on the table and sits next to me.

"It's hard not to when there are pictures of her and Derek kissing," Carla Bennett chimes in, malice coating her voice as she settles down beside Lexi.

I glare at her. "Not my fault. He mistook me for someone else."

A simple case of mistaken identity and the root cause of my misery. Only it hadn’t been simple. Because when a very drunk Derek Matthis mistakenly grabbed and kissed me at a house party, someone took pictures and posted them online.

Pictures that looked so damning Adam was convinced they were real.

It’s almost amazing how fast I went from being one of the most popular girls to the biggest outcast overnight. From being dubbed as Bayfield High’s “Princess Diana” to being called the “biggest slut” in the planet. It only took a few malicious pictures to ruin both my reputation and relationship with Adam.

I learned one thing though. That when it comes down to it, save for a few select people, the whole school would side with Adam without verifying facts. Hell, even some of the teachers had looked at me like I murdered their beloved son.

Because my ex isn’t just any boy. He’s the senior class president who spearheads successful school programs left and right, the top candidate for valedictorian who’s believed to be a shoo-in for an Ivy League school, and the one voted most likely to succeed since freshman year.

He’s also the most popular boy in school. And one of the hottest. His light blonde hair, baby blue eyes and dimpled smile give him that all-American good looks that girls swoon over. Even his prescription glasses add to his appeal.

But more than his looks and his academic achievement, Adam possesses a winning personality that makes everyone love him. It’s what drew me to him in the first place.

Golden Boy of Bayfield High, that’s what he is.

And once you hurt the Golden Boy, you hurt the whole school.

I wish I can say he made everyone hurl those whispered insults and dark glares at me. That would make him the bad guy, right? But I can’t. Adam may have acted like a jerk when he dumped me, but he’s far from being one.

Even when he thought I cheated on him, he still went out of his way to defend me whenever he heard someone talk crap about me. He even landed in detention one time when he punched a guy for calling me a “cheating whore.” I personally witnessed that.

So, no, even after what Adam did, I can’t find myself to hate him.

If there’s any bright side to the whole thing though, it’s that I found out who my real friends are.

"Your friend's a real piece of work, Carla,” Lexi says, dragging me back to the present.

"It's really shitty of her to let Maddy take the fall.” Amanda tucks an errant lock of red hair behind her ear, her new layered bob looking so good on her.

Wait. Are they talking about Erin Taylor? The same girl who Derek mistook me for?

My expression hardens. It turned out she was the one hooking up with him. But instead of owning up to it, she let me become the scapegoat and continued on with their affair in secret, with everybody else none the wiser.

I tried to convince Derek to tell everyone the truth. But Erin had so much hold over him, he wouldn’t even budge. He even pretended not to remember and said that I was probably the one who initiated the kiss.

Please.

If it weren’t for Sean and Kenzie, nobody would know the truth. I’d still be a social pariah. Oh, there are still some people - like those two emo jerks - who believe I really cheated on Adam. But it’s only a few of them so they don’t bother me much. I just ignore them and let Lexi do her protective bestie thing.

"I know. Erin is sorry about the whole thing, Madison." Carla gives me a faux sympathetic smile.

Ugh, she's so fake. Why do we even put up with her?

Like Lexi, Amanda stood by me during those dark times. Carla? Not so much. I even heard her telling someone that she once saw me making out with a soccer player in the boys’ locker room.

Obviously, she mistook me for her twin sister.

"Yeah, right," Lexi scoffs. “Erin is only sorry she was caught. She doesn’t care about Maddy.”

“That’s not true. Erin-”

"What are you even doing here, Carla?” I finally snap. “Shouldn't you be following her around like a good minion?"

Amanda chokes on her soda can while Lexi laughs shamelessly.

"I'm not her minion!" Carla sputters, her cheeks reddening.

I just roll my eyes and look away, my gaze wandering back to that table.

Big mistake.

Because my eyes lock with his right then. How long has he been staring at me? And why does he always give me that look? Like I did him wrong. Like I was the one who hurt him.

"He looks like a lost puppy," Amanda comments, apparently staring at him as well.

Carla clucks her tongue. "Poor Adam."

Lexi turns up her nose. "Serves him right, if you ask me."

Like the true best friend she is, Lexi started hating on Adam when he broke up with me. Especially after everybody gave me the cold shoulder.

"Can we not talk about him, please? As far as I'm concerned, we're done."

Carla turns to me with a calculating gleam in her eyes. "If you don't want anything to do with him anymore, then you wouldn't mind if I go and cheer him up, right?"

Amanda whips her head to her. "Seriously, Carla?"

"What is wrong with you?" Lexi practically yells.

Carla simply ignores them, her attention still focused on me, waiting expectantly for my answer.

"He's all yours, “ I tell her with a cold smile. Then I pick up my tray and rise from the table, painfully aware of a particular pair of eyes watching after me as I walk away.

Now available!!!

About the Author

Madeleine Labitan lives and breathes for three things: books, coffee and Netflix. Deny her of one and you'll make an enemy for life.

A freelance writer and virtual assistant, she pretends to be a dedicated hard worker most days, while secretly preferring to instead spend hours falling in lust with hot book boyfriends and hating on their heroines (lucky bitches!).

She's been writing most of her life, and after nearly a decade of procrastinating, finally decided to try her luck on being an author.

Truth or Dare is her first foray into publishing world and hopefully not the last...

And, oh, she’s in social media. Not that active, but she tries:

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Bayfield High Series

Truth or Dare

Kiss and Make Up

Perfectly Clueless

Truth or Dare

Book 1 in the Bayfield High series

What's a girl to do when she's forced to spend time with her childhood nemesis?

There are only three things Mackenzie Brown looks forward to on a Friday night: cheesy rom coms, mani pedi and a quiet sleepover with her friends.

Crashing a party and getting payback on her best friend's cheating ex-boyfriend are definitely NOT part of the plan. Especially the possibility of getting caught!

But worst of all? Getting dared into taking a dip in freezing lakewater with the cocky Sean Murphy.

Can’t she catch a break?

But when truths are revealed and secrets come out, Mackenzie starts to realize that maybe, just maybe, missing out on a quiet sleepover isn't so bad after all…

Now available!!!

Stay tune for more of the Bayfield High gang!