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“Nobody was flirting,” I choked out. “We were just—”
“You were just what?” Claire teased.
“Talking,” I filled in with a helpless shrug.
“About what?”
“I don’t know,” I mumbled. “Just stuff, I guess?”
“And taking pictures together,” she added with a cackle. “I saw that, too.”
“Oh god.” I groaned in defeat and flopped back on my pillow. “I was caught so off guard,” I croaked out. “You should have heard me trying to talk to him,” I added, biting down on my lip. “I got tongue-tied and literally bombed my way through the entire conversation, Claire. It was completely humiliating.”
“You got tongue-tied because you like him,” she pressed.
Not bothering to deny it, I just sighed down the line.
“Oh my god,” she gasped, tone excited. “Are you finally admitting you like him?”
I nodded and then realized she couldn’t see me.
“I don’t think there’s any point in denying it,” I whispered, feeling my face burn at the thought. “I like him, Claire. I think I really like him.”
“Oh wow, Shan,” Claire replied gently. “This is big for you.”
She was right.
It was huge. And scary.
Absolutely terrifying.
“It’s ridiculous,” I muttered glumly. “I don’t even know him.”
“Yeah, you do,” Claire argued.
“Not well,” I replied with a sigh.
“Well,” she mused. “I’ve never met Johnny Depp in the flesh, and that hasn’t stopped me from falling madly in love with him.”
I rolled my eyes at her response. “Yeah, because that’s the same thing.”
“I have his phone number, you know,” Claire offered then. “I can give it to you and you could text him.”
My eyes widened. “Absolutely not.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” I strangled out. “There is no way on god’s green earth where I could be the type of girl who does that.” Chewing on my lip, I quickly asked, “How do you have his number?”
“Gerard is always borrowing my phone,” she explained. “ He is always calling Johnny when he uses my phone. Johnny’s practically his Siamese twin. So, I stored Johnny’s number under Call for Sex.” Snickering she added, “It was so funny. Gerard was so mad with me—demanding to know who I was hooking up with and why it wasn’t him listed under that name.”
“Claire, you can’t tell anyone that I like him,” I blurted out, feeling panicky that I had let the cat out of the bag. “Please. Not even Lizzie and especially not Gibsie.”
“I won’t, I promise,” she vowed. “But if you did text him, I think you’d be pleasantly surprised,” she added. “I know Lizzie told you a bunch of stuff about him, but honestly, most of it’s just fabricated gossip. Johnny’s not the guy all the girls at school paint him out to be.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, “I’ve already gathered that.”
He was better.
