So I didn’t need Tessa’s big mouth giving people the wrong idea. Nor did I need a new flock of cheerleaders surrounding me as they tried to get to him. Especially since Blake sat by and flirted with them, oblivious to how much that stung me.
“If his fan club hears you…” I pointed between Tessa and myself. “Friendship:over.”
She laughed. “I’m just saying! Maybe there’s a reason he always seems to find himself at your door.”
“Yeah.” I snorted. “His name is Adam Barrow. My twin and Blake’s best friend? Pretty sure you’ve heard of him.”
Mr. Edison saved me from Tessa’s response by starting morning announcements. But one minute into the homeroom period, a note landed on my desk.
Tessa stared pointedly at the blackboard.
I smoothed out the paper, blushing furiously at the drawing she’d made. Ever the art nerd, she’d sketched two figures that looked suspiciously like me and Blake. If I’d had any doubt over who she’d drawn, she’d taken care of it by writing “Mrs. Addie Hawthorne” at the top.
The giant hearts around my would-be name were completely unnecessary, and I ignored the jolt her lovely script sent through my chest.
Crumpling the note back up, I glared at Tessa as I shoved it in my pocket.
She didn’t meet my eyes.
For the rest of the homeroom period, the image of Blake’s arm around me—with his lips on mine—plagued me. Except in my mind, it wasn’t a drawing.
It was us.
Anduswas the last thing I needed to think about since there wasn’t one. Not like that.
I dropped my voice to a whisper. “I hate you.”
“Please,” she taunted back. “You love him almost as much as you love me.”
Rolling my eyes, I dropped my head onto my desk and groaned softly.
Because she wasn’t entirely wrong.
2
BLAKE
SENIOR YEAR OF HIGH SCHOOL, 2017, AGE 18
“You can’t be serious, Addie.”
Blue-green eyes snapped in my direction.
“Why would I joke about that, Blake?” Her cheeks pinked, and she cast her eyes down to the textbook in front of her. “Is it so far-fetched to believe he’d ask me to Prom?”
No.
The word burned as I swallowed it.
The issue was that too many guys wanted to take Addie to Prom. It was bound to give Adam a stomach ulcer or something.
But no way in hell would I admit that to her.
Leaning back in my chair, I eyed her across the Barrows’ dining room table. “I’m just surprised you said yes, that’s all. The guy’s a tool.”
Adam coughed beside me, choking on a sip of water.
I slapped his back, pretending not to notice the shift in Addie’s expression from embarrassment to righteous indignation.
