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“You’re you, too,” Grayson says ruefully.
“What does that even mean?” Rachel whispers.
Shae shrugs. “Bro-talk for ‘you’re my bestie’?”
“It means it’s cool,” Emmett tells her before getting to his feet. He offers me his hand. “Congrats, Mase. Never thought you’d be the first of us to do this.”
“You think I did?” I slap him on the shoulder with a relieved smile, then turn to Grayson beside Emmett.
“You really love her?” he asks skeptically.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “I really do.”
“Then good luck.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze, then pulls me into a hug. Rachel squeals and jumps up, and so does Shae. Even Boen offers his congratulations.
I’d feel a lot better about it if Fiona would come out of that bedroom.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Fiona
“Whatwereyouthinking?”Bexley demands harshly as I close the door behind me. Her eyes are red-rimmed and angry.
This is an angry cry.
I’ve seen Bexley cry for every reason—broken heart, bad grades, fight with Boen. I’ve seen tears of frustration and sadness, of happiness. I’ve never once seen her cry because she’s mad at me. I hate the thought.
She sinks onto the end of the bed, the sheets are tangled like she just climbed out of it. And she looks like it as well—Bexley’s sweatshirt is inside out and she’s wearing a pair of Grayson’s boxers.
Her phone is still in her hand. She must have checked, saw the post, and thrown on clothes as quickly as I did.
“Can I see the pictures?” I ask instead of answering. Bexley hands me her phone without a word. I unlock it to find the Instagram post with two blurry pictures of Mase and me leaving the chapel.
The next post is me looking up at him as we walk down the street holding hands. “That was on the way to get the license,” I explain, scrolling through for more pictures. There are a few from Bubbles, one of us dancing from last night. All of them could be explained away, but I don’t want to.
I’m not hiding any of this.
“After we left Bubbles, he bought me shoes because my feet hurt,” I tell Bexley. “He bought me jewelry. I bought him a hat. We talked—we talked all night and it was…he saw me. He sees me.” I swallow down the tears. “I think he might be the first person who sees me.”
Bexley rears back. “I see you.”
“Not really. You see best friend Fiona, same as I always have been. You see Fiona with the dead parents and anxiety disorder. You see me hide in my books about love and think that’s okay.”
“You’re happy,” Bexley protests. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I thought I was happy with my closed little life. But one night with Mase opened it all up.”
“He’s nothing like you.” Some of the hostility fades but she sounds confused. So confused.
“No, he’s not, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”
“He’ll make it so difficult for you.”
“I never expected it to be easy.”
“Fee,” she implores. I’m not sure what Bexley is trying to do—change my mind? Change my heart?
I don’t think that’s going to happen.
