EVAN: GAVE ME COOKIE GOT YOU COOKIE!!!!
ME: You’re getting blocked.
EVAN: You’d never do that. I can see that you saved it to your camera roll, Angel.
Fuck. I’ve been caught.
Me: Only so I can print it out and frame it.
I realise how that sounds and quickly send out another response.
ME: NOT IN A WEIRD WAY, YOU WEIRDO.
EVAN: Sure.
EVAN: Send me a pic of you. It’s only fair.
I sit up further in the bed. I look like a certified mess right now; my hair is unruly; I’m wearing one of Henry’s old shirts and sleep shorts. I’m not my usual put-together self. But with him, I don’t seem to care anymore. It’s hard to be concerned with how he sees me when he’s seenallof me – the good, the bad, and the ugly.
So, I send him a selfie, flipping him off.
ME: Saw this and thought of you. Hot, but still pisses me off.
EVAN: Very funny.
EVAN: Are you calling me hot or yourself?
ME: Both?
EVAN:Right answer.
ME: Thank you, btw.
EVAN: What for???
ME: My dad. The letter. The food. Holding my hand.
ME: I got a job, too.
EVAN: I hope you know how proud I am of you. Like, so, fucking, sickeningly proud of you. You could do anything you wanted to. I’m in your corner, Scar. Always.
This is a new low for me because I’m sitting in my bed, staring at my phone screen as I start to cry over a text Evan has sent me. I might just be hormonal and overwhelmed with the amount of shit that has gone down these last few weeks. I try to compose a reply, but my eyes can’t help but snag on those words.
I hope you know how proud I am of you.
45
Scarlett
If there’s one thing us Voss’ like, it’s a big party. But not just any party. It needs to be a blowout party with a DJ, a buffet, and a dance floor, or nothing at all. We always hold our best parties out of state, usually in L.A, where most of our family live as well as where our headquarters is located. The second my dad got back on his feet, he put together one of the best ‘Welcome Back’ parties he could.
With Lucas put away and the people infiltrating the committee out, I’ve felt so much better. It also helps that Evan and I have submitted our final report and we’re due to hear our grade within the next few weeks. I thought we could all use the getaway and celebration, so I brought Wren, Miles, Evan, and Kennedy with me on the flight to LA.
Only problem? Having to explain the room situation. I booked three rooms and I’ve been trying to tell Kennedy that I’m not sharing a room with her since we got to the runway, but she’s not been making it easy.
“This is going to be exactly like the good old days,” Kennedy says, clutching her iPad to her chest like a kid. We’ve been waiting on the runway for almost half an hour. Wren and Miles are standing in front of us, Evan beside them. He keeps turning back, glancing at me and it’s making me blush. I hate it.
“Yeah, Ken-”
