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Allie’s come over to the dark side to date the football captain, who’s also a tight end. Weird, I know, but if you knew how bossy Sarge was, him leading the team makes perfect sense. But that’s not the point. Allie hung around practice yesterday and did some “T recon” for me. Here it is:
oAfter Graduation: Play ball for UT
(Bye Aggie roots. I’m going to be a Longhorn)
oFirst Pick Dessert: Cheesecake
(Who doesn’t love cheesecake?)
oFavorite Movie: American Werewolf in London
(Renting it tonight!)
~ from the diary of Elizabeth Sara Thorne (age16)
Vi’s going to choke me with her industrial eyelash curler for being late.
I sprint away from the most confusing fifteen minutes of my life as fast as these stupid heels will let me. Tripping and showing up at the panel with a twisted ankle would be the icing on this crappiest-morning-ever cupcake. “Don’t freak out. Do. Not. Freak. Out. Nothing starts on time,” I coach myself. But my feet propel me away from the panel like they know something I don’t.
“I think you want to go this way.” Gabriel syncs his steps with mine, redirecting me with a hand on the small of my back. He points at the event screen built into the wall ahead of me that lists the ballroom where my panel’s being held.
My casual author pic slapped next to Donna’s professional headshot sends me into a sprint. She’ll definitely spill tea-gate and my tardiness to Vi.
“Jess.” Gabriel catches up easily, my name somersaulting off his tongue like he didn’t have to read it off my badge. “Kick-ass personal pep rally, by the way.”
My dignity does a nosedive. I try to speed up and shake him off, but my heels rein me in. “Youkissedme.” I spare him a side glare. I was saving that kiss for someone I cared about. Or at least someone I knew.
“I’m sorry?” There’s a husky drop in his voice that absolutely does not roll a shiver over my skin.
“I don’t even know you.” Veering around the corner, I almost plow over two tween girls pulling pink, glittery suitcases.
Gabriel catches me around the waist, his warm hands making a serious dent in my dwindling hot-guy immunity. “I’m beginning to get that.” His eyes dance like I’ve made his millennium.
The older girl backs into the younger, both their gazes snapping to Gabriel, their eyes weepy like maybe he’s been staring at them from posters plastering their bedroom wall.
I don’t normally regret how much TV I don’t watch or how much social media I don’t surf. Today I do. Gabriel Wade issomebody. Somebody I should probably recognize.
His lobby smile reappears, and it irritates me that I don’t like it. “Ladies.” He nods at the girls and attempts to steers me down the hall.
But I get stuck.
It isn’t the hand he’s left warming my waist or even the wide-eyed girls swooning over him that tack my feet in place. It’s the gaping hole widening inside me as their parents come up behind them laughing and holding hands.
“Keep moving, Escalator Girl.” Gabriel tugs a little harder. He doesn’t stop touching me until we’re in front of the ballroom where my panel’s being held.
Every set of double doors are closed. Behind them, the moderator’s speaking. “This panel will be recorded. Please keep questions positive and answers short...”
My one easy breath comes and goes. I have time to claim my empty seat. But I’ll have to walk past hundreds of eyes to do it. “Just pull the handle and walk in,” I whisper, wrapping sweaty fingers around the giant bronze handle. “No huge deal.”
Except it’s the hugest deal. As soon as I open the door, I won’t be able to takeHauntedback. I won’t be able to delete it from the bookstore shelves the way I deleted it from DigitalReads when I realized how big it had gotten. It will be out there for everyone to read. For Mom to read. And she’ll know what I did. Because I chose to use her freaking last name on the cover.
A sinking sensation loosens my grip. Sinking turns into drowning and sucks in my breath. My hand slides off the slippery metal doorknob, and I get lost in the voice screaming inside my head.You shouldn’t be here. You’re a liar. A failure. A fraud.
“Jess?” Gabriel touches my back, setting off a crazy rhythm in my chest, complicating the chaos inside me.
“Please. Just leave.” Seconds from becoming one with the carpet, I press my forehead against the door and dig for deeper breaths.
The moderator stops talking, and Donna’s nasally voice starts author intros.
