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“Aveena Harper D’Amour, are you talking to a boy?” She completely butchers my French name, pointing an accusing finger at me. “Is that why you’re always searching for someone in the halls lately? Because you’re seeing some guy?”

And here I thought I was being so slick.

It’s true that I’ve been playing detective around school this past week. I can’t stop myself. Every time I see a guy from the senior class, I wonder if I’m looking at Zac.

Every. Single. Time.

This whole pen pal thing is screwing with my mind. I want nothing more than to tell Dia about the letters, but I’m a firm believer that once you let a secret out into the universe, word will spread. Might not be tomorrow, might not be next week, but it will get out one way or another.

The only way to make sure something truly remains secret is to keep it to yourself.

I make up an excuse. “Don’t be ridiculous. That’s just an old number. Been going through my contacts. Deleting a bunch.”

Guilt sweeps over her.

“Vee, you know you can still talk to me about these things, right? Just because my love life is a pile of dog shit doesn’t mean yours has to be, too. I’m here for you. Always.”

Right.

Except when you’re not.

Which is often lately.

“I’m telling you, there’s no guy.”

I’m met with a puzzled look. She’s not falling for it.

“Okay. Well, say there was a guy, I’d tell you to go for it. Who knows? You could be missing out on the hottest, most epic love story of your life.”

Highly doubt it.

Turning the corner, we charge toward the locker room down the hall. Dia spots her new best friend barely two steps inside the changing room.

“Lacey!” Dia is off to meet my replacement in a heartbeat. We cut all ties with Finn and his buddies since the cheating disaster, but Lacey and Dia are still the best of friends. Yay!

Dia might’ve lost Finn, but she definitely didn’t lose her popularity. The numerous guys sliding into her DMs post-breakup made that clear. I pick a locker at random, shove my things inside, and pad into the first stall I can find to change into my gym clothes.

Dia’s words eat away at me.

You could be missing out on the hottest, most epic love story of your life.

While I don’t see Zac like that, she does have a point. I’ve missed out on a lot in my life. My dad, a relationship with my mom, boy stuff.

No more.

Collecting my courage, I unlock my phone, select his number, and begin to type.

Love: Hey, it’s L.

* * *

He never texted back. It’s been hours.

Hours.

He’s probably going all over town asking everyone if they have my number registered as we speak. Why did I have to send that stupid text? Also, why is Ashley taking so long to come out of her school? Her lesson should be over by now.

And why—

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