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Zac: For being right. I had a feeling you were attractive.
I bite back a chuckle.
Love: Or so you think!!! I could be quasimodo for all you know.
Zac: Not possible. I know these guys. They wouldn’t invite a girl they’d regret waking up to the next day. You’re hot, L. Just deal with it.
I scoff.
I find great irony in the fact that technically, Theo didn’t personally invite me and Lacey is the only reason I’m here. Zac’s so certain of his claims, he never stopped to think that I could be the only non-popular person in this house.
Zac: Don’t take this the wrong way but I wish you’d stayed home. Now I’m going to spend all fucking night thinking about you.
He’s right.
I messed up. I didn’t have to tell him I was here. Sure, the party is crawling with girls, making it hard for him to find me, but I could’ve just kept my big mouth shut instead of digging myself into a massive hole.
Now, I’m going to wonder if every guy I see is him. At least, until Dia agrees to leave, which is probably not happening until four, five a.m. What the hell was I thinking letting her drive me? Did I seriously expect my heartbroken friend to stay sober at a party when her hot mess of a cheating ex is on the guest list?
I study the living room, my heart pounding every time I spot a guy on his phone. The first candidate is Axel, standing by the fireplace, arm wrapped around a brunette’s shoulders, staring at his phone screen with a lazy grin on his fuckboy face.
Oh, God no.
Please no.
On his right is Theo, also on his phone, although he seems to be scrolling on social media rather than texting.
Vee, knock it off!
If you go into detective mode every time you see a guy on his phone, we’ll be here until graduation.
My phone chimes, reminding me that I left my texting buddy on hold.
Zac: I give it a week, tops.
Love: What?
Zac: Our anonymity pact.
Zac: One week. Two, if we’re lucky.
Love: Okay, Negative Nancy.
Zac: What? Someone had to say it. I’m telling you something will happen and we’ll find out without meaning to. No way we can keep this up if we’re friends with the same people.
His gloomy prediction weighs me down. But the worst part is the realization that comes next. Shit, I have to ghost him, don’t I?
The universe seems dead set on throwing us in each other’s way. We connected through some old poetry book, exchanged anonymous letters for two weeks—what are the odds, seriously—and now we’re at the same party?
Drop it, Universe, I’m not playing your games.
I stop replying, shoving my phone into my back pocket.
“Dia, Axel’s got the magic mushrooms,” Lacey says, and my head snaps up. “Let’s go.”
Lacey’s request seems to remind Dia of my existence because my best friend’s bloodshot eyes jump to mine.
She’s worried.
