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“If I have to come over and drag you out of your room, you’re going,” he orders. “You’ve spent way too much time at the library lately, and you need to have some fun. You can even bring your friends. But you have to come.”
“Parties really aren’t my idea of fun. I thought we established that earlier this semester.”
He goes quiet for a moment, then mutters, “That was different. This one won’t be like that.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s my party. You’ll be withme. That changes everything.”
“How?”
“Because I’m going to make it my personal mission to see that you have fun.Personal mission, Holland. I’m serious.”
“Fine, fine,” I mumble. “I’ll go.”
Mandi stirs, muttering, and I roll over to my other side. “I have to go. I think I woke up Mandi.”
“Just give her one of those bunnies. Maybe she’ll go back to sleep.”
I stifle a strangled laugh. “Good idea. Okay, I gotta go. Talk to you later.”
Once I hang up, I’m back to staring at the ceiling, wondering how the hell to stop crushing on this man. I might as well try to figure out how to achieve world peace while I’m at it, because both are unsolvable problems in my opinion.
Yeah, I’m not getting to sleep any time soon.
* * *
“I’m so glad you let me do your makeup and hair,” Mandi says excitedly. “You look fab. You could have looked better if you would have let me go all in, but—”
“You act like I had a choice in the matter,” I cut in, rolling my eyes. “You literally took the hairbrush out of my hand when I was getting ready.”
We’re on our way to Eli’s house party together, and honestly, I have no idea how that even happened. I wasn’t sure if Eli would even invite Mandi, but apparently, he invited everyone.
“But look how beautiful your hair looks! Blonde beach waves,” she gushes. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Beach waves in December,” I mumble. “Appropriate.”
“The makeup looks good too,” she says. “It’s a little too natural for my liking, but it looks nice on you. Just make sure to touch up your lip gloss throughout the night. It gives your lips a pretty pink blush. Now if we could have just done something about your outfit, and if you’d ditch those leopard print glasses for contacts...”
“Jesus. Will you stop it with the self-improvement tips?” I complain. “I’m fine. I like my glasses, and I like what I’m wearing.”
Mandi shrugs. “Maybe, but I still think I’m right.”
I stifle a sigh and walk faster. I know there’s no hope of ditching her, but a person can only take so much criticism before losing their shit. Besides, I do like what I’m wearing—a fitted, white Tipping Purple tee with a black waterfall cardigan sweater, my tightest well-worn jeans, and low black boots.
I rarely wear anything but my Converse, but Mandi begged me to wear the boots because they worked with the outfit.
“Holland, do you think Eli will like what I’m wearing?” Mandi asks, jogging in front of me and spinning around to show me her clothes—tight blue jeans, a pink sweater, and knee-high black boots.
“Mandi, you have to let it go, okay? He’s told you he doesn’t want a girlfriend.”
Suddenly, Mandi looks vulnerable—nothing like her normal confident self. She kicks a rock on the sidewalk, then glances over at me.
“I can’t let it go. I think I’m in love with him, Holland.”
“Oh, Mandi.” I suck in a breath of cold air, then shake my head. “How much time have you spent with Eli since the night you guys made out?”
Mandi’s silent for a few moments. “We spent some time together at the party I threw, but not that much, really. He’s always busy with hockey and stuff.” She gives me a defensive look. “He’s got a lot going on.”
