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Jerkward:What if I can change your mind?
What? Why? That’snotwhat this text was supposed to be about.
Me:And why would youwannado that?
Jerkwad:Let’s just say you’re the second person to express what I jerk I am today, and I’d liketo do something about it. Maybe I like proving people wrong.
My brows rose to my hairline. I sat up in my bed, crisscrossed my legs while I leaned back against the headboard, and debated how to respond when a lightbulb went off. A golden opportunity just landed in my lap. Topher Elliot wanted to change my mind about him? What would happen if I let him try, and in the end, I’d show him how wrong he was? Because if I knew one thing for sure, it was that Topher Elliot was exactly the boy I thought he was.
My thumbs hovered over my phone, hesitating a moment before I made up my mind.
You met meatJT’s party, I typed vaguely, remembering their mutterings in the hall the first day of school. Besides, it was a safe bet. JT was famous for having huge parties when his parents went on their constant yacht trips. Surely, Topher met tons of girls at them.
Jerkwad:Shoot. Julie?
Jackpot.
Me:Yup, that’s me.
Jerkwad:We seemed to really hit it off. So why are you mad at me again?
Uh . . .
Me:Because you stood me up.
Jerkwad:What? When?
I was officially the worst liar in the world.
Me:You don’tevenremember asking me out?!
I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers to the pulsating tension in my forehead. Why was I having a conversation with him again?
Resolving myself to quit, I set my phone on my nightstand even as it pinged with an incoming text. Then I grabbed the abused copy ofWuthering Heightsand opened it to where I left off last night and began to read.
Only, I couldn’t focus, and after rereading the same passage five times, I growled and threw it back down.
My gaze flickered to my phone. Curiosity burned a hole through my annoyance until I snatched it back up.
Jerkwad:Crap. I must’ve been wasted. Which is strange. I only remember having one beer that night. Anyway, I’m sorry I did that. Truly. I had no idea, but I’m glad you texted.
I feel a spike of irritation, despite my small win at covering my tracks. Doesn’t he care that I essentially called him a narcissist and told him I hate his guts?
Me:Even though I think you’re a total douche?
Jerkwad: Ha!I’m going to change your mind, remember?
Me:And if you can’t?
Jerkwad:If I can’t, I’ll quit water polo.
Whoa. He must be serious.
Jerkwad:But if I can . . . you have to be my date for homecoming.
What? He must’ve gone insane. Like he had any trouble getting a date.
Me:I’m not really into the meathead type. Muscles are nice, but brains are nicer, and I find most of the jocks in my school arenothing more thanwalking balls of testosterone.
