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My heart thuds in my chest. “W-who?”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Who do you think?”
“Him?”
“Um, yes.”
My heart thuds again and then starts to beat really rapidly and loudly and chaotically.
Because it’s been two years. Two whole years and so I’d forgotten.
I’d forgotten that this is what he does.
He stares.
He watches.
He keeps his reddish-brown eyes pinned on me whenever we’re in the same room, the same space.
And every time he did that, I’d sweat. I’d shiver.
From the heat in them.
From thehatein them.
But then why would he need to stare at me now? I’m not his best friend’s girlfriend anymore, am I?
Shouldn’t he be happy now?
Shouldn’t his hate, if not gone completely, have lessened?
He got what he wanted.
He won.
I fist my fingers around the tumbler of orange juice. “I can’t believe he’s doing that. I can’tbelievehe’s looking at me in front of his best friend. After what…”
I trail off because Jupiter is giving me weird looks. Ones that suggest that she’s confused at my reaction, that she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.
And then I realize that she probably doesn’t.
Because she isn’t talking about what I think she’s talking about — or whom.
“You…” I clear my throat, squirming in my seat. “You mean him, don’t you? You mean,Lucasis looking at me.”
She studies me for a second or two. “Who else did you think I was talking about?”
“No one.”
She narrows her eyes suspiciously. “No one.”
“Yes.” I clear my throat again. “I-I mean, I knew you were talking about Lucas.” Before she can say anything else, I add, “I’m just really stressed.”
Not a lie.
I am. And probably that’s why while she was referring to my ex-boyfriend, I thought she was talking about his best friend.
“I know,” she says, sighing. “I’m sorry. I wish we could do something. I wish I could go over there and punch that son of a bitch in his goddamn gorgeous face.”
