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I need this time to think, to plan. And if I discover what I saw in the corridor is real, I’ll show Jake exactly what he’s missing.
It’s past ten p.m. when Sarah and I arrive at Macy’s place for the party. My nerves are a jumbled mess, and my stomach is doing somersaults. Standing at the door, I find myself gripping Sarah’s hand.
“I’m not sure I can do this,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the thumping bass coming from inside.
I’ve been avoiding Jake’s calls all day—eleven missed calls, to be exact. Is he innocent? Or feeling guilty? Part of me yearns to just call him, to hear his side of the story, but Sarah’s adamant advice echoes in my mind—keep not answering him, play hard to get.
“Guys are dogs, players, and what he did is not okay,” she says, then hugs me tightly. “Be strong and don’t be afraid to make him jealous. Plus, you look absolutely gorgeous,” she encourages.
I feel a knot of discomfort in my chest, a sense this isn’t right. Patting down my mini black dress—high-thigh, spaghetti straps—I take a deep breath. This whole situation is ridiculous. We’re in a fake relationship, so doesn’t that mean I can do whatever I like? I should call off this facade between us, anyway.
As I think about ending things with Jake, my stomach churns painfully. Why does the thought of calling it off hurt so much? I shouldn’t care this much. It’s all just an act, right?
Pushing these thoughts aside, I square my shoulders and follow Sarah into the party. The music is loud, the lights are flashing, and the air is thick with the energy of the crowd. People are laughing and dancing, living in the moment.
As we move through the house into the backyard where the party is really happening, I feel eyes on me. I’m out of my element, but I’m determined to put on a brave face. I grab a drink and push into the crowd with Sarah at my side. Part of me is on the lookout for Jake, another part dreading the possibility of seeing him.
“Let loose, have some fun,” Sarah says, pulling me toward the middle of the dance floor. I let the music carry me away, trying to lose myself in the rhythm and the lights. But deep down, there’s a nagging voice reminding me of Jake, of our last encounter, of the look in his eyes when he chased after me.
The thumping beats of the music do little to ease the churning inside me. Sarah, always the life of the party, is already chatting with a group of people, but my mind is elsewhere. As I approach the drinks table, Tyler finds me.
“Hey, good to see you. Glad you made it tonight.”
“Couldn’t miss out on all the fun,” I tease, reaching for a can of Pepsi. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sarah dancing carefree with two guys. I envy how easily she flirts and picks up guys.
“You look real cute tonight,” Tyler says, drawing my attention back to him. He reaches out to brush my hair off my shoulder, a gesture meant to be comforting, perhaps even flirtatious, but it does nothing for me.
I frown slightly. “I really appreciate it, but I’m not really interested in another relationship if this is where this is going,” I say, not needing more complications.
Tyler just grins, seemingly unfazed and not listening, his gaze across the yard. Following his line of sight, my heart skips a beat as I lock eyes with Jake.
His lips are pressed into a thin line, and the intensity of his stare makes the hairs on my arms stand.
Tyler leans in closer to me, his hand now on my cheek, whispering, “This is your chance, Emily, to make the jerk suffer.”
His words don’t sit right with me. As I’m locked in Jake’s gaze, rage and confusion twists through me. This isn’t me. I’m not one for vengeance. I’m the boring girl who should have just called Jake. then I could enjoy the night, knowing where I stand.
Tyler’s at my side, fake laughing at nothing, his huge hand pawing at my arm.
Suddenly, Jake starts marching toward the house, his stride aggressive, his expression shrouded in shadows. Panic slams through me.
“I shouldn’t have come tonight,” I mumble, mostly to myself, as Tyler’s already pulled away and is chatting with some other jock. The party, the plan to make Jake jealous, feels like a colossal mistake.
I glance back at Sarah, but she’s nowhere to be seen. That’s just great. The need to escape, to breathe, to think becomes overwhelming. I push through the throng of people, my heart pounding, my mind a blur of emotions.
As I hurry through the house to the front door, Jake suddenly appears, blocking my path like a towering wall of fury.
“We need to talk,” he says firmly, his grip on my hand insistent.
“Jake—”
My words are stolen by Tyler’s appearance.
“Hey, she doesn’t want to go with you. Don’t force the girl,” he says, stepping between us.
“Get the fuck out of my face, Tyler,” Jake growls, his shoulders squared.
The tension escalates rapidly, but when Tyler shoves Jake in the chest, both of them turn feral. He throws himself at Tyler, throwing punch after punch at him. They crash to the floor in a fit of fists and grunts.
