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“Devon!”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? You seem upset, and what Devon did was crazy,” Audrey says. “Are you going to tell your parents?”
“Enough people have already posted it online; I’m sure they’ll see it,” I tell her.
But I wasn’t planning on telling them. I haven’t decided what I’m going to do about my best friend’s betrayal quite yet.
For the most part, I’m furious, but there’s a small part of me that’s sad, too, because wewerefriends. Maybe it started as a favor to him, but that isn’t all it is now. And I gave her a chance to tell me the truth, and she didn’t do it. I know I haven’t been entirely honest with her, but that’s different. This is serious.
Devon is a mistake. A convenient choice, and one she will live to regret.
“Where’s Ally?” Audrey asks.
I purse my lips and shake my head. There’s a question I don’t want to answer—and an answer Ireallydon’t want to picture in my head.
“Probably sleeping,” I tell her. “You know how boring she is.”
She laughs. “Okay, well, text me tomorrow if you want to hang out. Maybe we can go down to the boardwalk or something if you don’t have to babysit Ally.”
“I’m off duty tomorrow; I’ll let you know.”
She closes the door behind her, and I sigh as I take in the disaster around me.
“Devon should be cleaning this shit up,” I mutter. I pull a trash bag from the pantry, aggressively shake it out, and start tossing in empty cups and beer bottles. I clear out the living room first, then the kitchen. I stare at the knife still wedged into the cutting board.
I think I’ll leave that there for our parents.
“Just so you know—I hate you both!” I yell, not knowing if they can hear me or not, and also not really giving a shit.
I shake my head as I clear away the last of the trash and wipe down the counters. I’m done with Ally Hargrove. Fuckingdone. I hope she enjoys being a social pariah for the rest of high school.
After I finish and the house is back to its normal level of messy, I dig my phone out of my back pocket and stare at my unanswered text messages.
Me:I can’t believe you’re spending the night there with her. You’re not going to have sex with her, right?
Me:YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME. WHEN ARE YOU LEAVING HER? YOU PROMISED ME.
Then, a few hours later…
Me:STOP IGNORING ME. I HAVE PICTURES. I WILL TELL EVERYONE.
I collapse on the sofa and stare at the screen while my fingers hover over the keyboard. I don’t see what the big deal is—people get divorced all the time. We’re in love, and I’m going to be eighteen soon. I’m getting sick of the excuses.
I’m about to say just that when my phone dings with his reply.
Mark:I’m here. Meet me out back.
I smile and shake my head, then shove my phone back into my pocket. He wasn’t ignoring me; he was trying to find a way to see me. I should have known better.
I run upstairs to my room, brush my hair out, reapply some lipstick, and head out the back sliding glass door.
“I should have grabbed a jacket,” I mutter as the cold air settles onto my skin. But who am I kidding? I look amazing in this top. It’s worth a little suffering for my tits to look this good. And maybe I went a little crazy in my text messages earlier, but I had to get my point across. I’m not the type of person you can just cut off and throw away. People don’t get to ghost me and reappear whenever they want, like nothing is wrong.
I’m the mother fucking prize. I make these rules.
The walk through the woods to the spot where we normally meet is about ten minutes. I emerge from the tree line next to adark two-lane road and see the silver BMW parked in the usual spot with its lights off. Mark sits in the driver’s seat; I see him there, wearing a hat like he only does when we meet like this.
My heart jumps in my chest. He looks so good in a hat. It makes him look young.
