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With a chuckle, she looped her arm through mine as we entered the cafeteria. “You know, they came to sit with you for a reason.”

“Yeah, but…” I hesitated. I knew what she was hinting at, but it didn’t make any sense. “Let me get this straight. First, I’m treated like an outcast because Jason issued some kind of blanket Hailee-is-off-limits rule. Then I become the school slut for a fake photo circulated by Lewis Thatcher. And now, I’m what? Hot property because Jason and the guys sat with us at lunch; for all of five minutes, I might add.”

“Jason and the guys?” Flick grinned, her eyes mocking me.

“Oh, piss off,” I grumbled. “You know what I mean.” It had been a simple slip of the tongue. Nothing more.

“I’m not saying it makes any sense, I’m just saying, I think he did something.”

“Did something?” I scoffed. “He’s barely said two words to me since Monday.” There had been the odd grunt here or there when we passed one another at home, and he had actually sat down and eaten a meal with us last night, much to everyone’s surprise. But I was under no illusion Jason and I were any closer to becoming friends. That ship had sailed long ago.

Not that I wanted that anyway.

I didn’t.

Flick shrugged as we joined the lunch line. “But he might have said something behind the scenes. Told people they need to be a little nicer to you, perhaps?” Her brow shot up suggestively.

“You have met my step-brother, right? Being nice is not in his emotional capacity.”

“He’s a douchebag, I’m not denying that.” Her lips pursed as if the words left a sour taste in her mouth. “But think about it. He’s never let anyone else near you. The second Thatcher sent that photo though, he stepped up.”

Stepped up? Is that what we were calling it?

“And I’m what?” I whisper-hissed, aware of all the prying eyes and ears within our immediate vicinity. “Just supposed to forgive the last six years and become Team Jason?”

Like that was ever going to happen. I loaded my tray with some lunch items and followed Flick to the service counter.

“I guess it does sound kind of lame when you put it that way.”

“You think?” I shot back unable to keep the disbelief out of my voice.

“And how are my two favorite ladies?” Asher Bennet appeared out of nowhere and slung his arms around us, guiding us to our usual table. I ducked out of his embrace leaving him and Flick to walk together, shooting her a hard look in the process. She shrugged like it was no big deal.

Traitor.

“So.” He sat down next to Flick as if he joined us for lunch every day. “I was wondering—”

“Steady there, you might get a headache.” I smirked, stabbing a piece of pasta with my fork totally not pretending it was Asher’s face.

“Ouch. So prickly, Raine. So prickly. Anyway, as I was saying.” He gave my best friend his attention and she lapped it up, hanging on his every word. My stomach sank. “How would you girls like to come to a party tomorrow night?”

“No,” I said at the same time as Flick said, “Yes.”

Laughter rumbled in Asher’s chest. “I can see we’re going to have to keep an eye on this one,” he said the words to Flick but directed them at me.

“You can go now,” I huffed. It was bad enough he was sitting at our table. But flirting with Flick? That was enough to make me puke and I hadn’t even taken a single bite of my lunch yet.

“You should come. There’s no hidden agenda, I swear,” were his parting words as he stood up, his eyes lingering a little too long on my friend. When he retreated back to his table, Flick squealed with delight. “A party,” she shrieked, lowering her voice when I gave her an irritated glare. “A party at Asher Bennet’s house. I can’t believe this.”

“You don’t actually want to go?”

“Hails, come on.” She groaned, rolling her eyes theatrically. “This has never happened to us before. And it’s on my list.”

“I think your list is fast becoming a way to talk me into selling my soul to the dark side.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. It’s just a party. And who knows, maybe you’ll actually have some fun.” She leaned in closer. “Besides, Cameron will be there.” Her eyes danced with insinuation.

“Don’t even…” I warned. I didn’t want to think about Cameron, not here, not now.

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