Brett snorted. Then he started chuckling. Then he was doubled over, completely out of control. He dropped onto the floor with his back against the table and kept laughing.
I thought he’d officially lost it.
I sat beside him. Our legs bumped against each other’s. I remembered what it felt like when he said he had a crush on me, the way his lips parted when we kissed at Lovers’ Lake. And I really wished I was a detective because maybe then I could figure out the mystery that was my heart and whatever these feelings blooming inside me were.
“You know the term ‘climax’?” I asked.
“Yes. But I think it’s a different ‘climax’ than you’re referencing.”
I set myself up for that one.
Ignoring him, I said, “Miss Copper was talking about it during class yesterday. Basically in every book, there’s a sequence of events that happens to build up to one monumental moment. That’s called ‘rising action.’ It leads up to the story’s climax, which is, like, the most intense moment, when something crazy happens and the reader is left in shock. Like the characters break up, a secret is revealed—that sort of thing.”
“Oh, Becca. I love it when you get all geeky.”
I swatted his arm.
“The point is that after the climax, the final stage of a book is the resolution. It’s where all the problems are solved, the characters are happy again, and there’s this sense of relief, Brett. What’s happening right now with your family? Think of it as the climax, when everything gets crazy. What I’m trying to say is that you need to hang in a little longer, wait for the resolution. Because then, everything will be okay. You’ll be okay.”
Brett put his arm around my shoulder. “You’re kind of amazing, Becca Hart,” he said. I started to laugh before I saw the serious look on his face. No teasing this time, no poking fun. He really meant that.
The butterflies were back.
I shrugged, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. “I told you to pay attention in English.”
“Why pay attention when I’m dating the smartest girl in class? You’re like my own personal textbook.”
“Wow, I am so flattered. Is that all you like me for?”
“No,” he said. “Not at all.” Then he quickly jumped up and tugged me to my feet with him. The tickets all fell out of his pocket but he didn’t care. He held on to my hands, forcing me to face him. He had that crazy look in his eyes again. This time he was smiling. One hundred watts and all. “Come to the hotel’s opening with me this weekend.” He said it all in one breath.
I mean, I kind of thought I was already supposed to go, being his fake girlfriend and all. “Sure,” I said anyway.
“No, Becca. Not like some fake date where we spend the night pretending and hold hands because people expect us to. A real date this time. Me and you. . . . Would you want that? Do you want to come with me?”
My heart had grown wings and soared out of my chest.
“I—”
“I want you there. I think I need you there. And for one night, let’s stop doing things because we have to, okay? Can we do that and see what happens?”
I could feel the chains around my heart loosening. It was wiggling free, inch by inch. I tried to lock it back up but it wasn’t so easy to restrain anymore.
Oh, whatever. I took the chains off.
“Yeah,” I told Brett. “Yeah we can.”
The hotel’s grand opening was way too glamourous for Crestmont, a town that always smelled a little like sewage. This party was better suited for an old Hollywood movie.
It was being held in the hotel’s lobby. The floors were marble, and you could hear the sound of women’s heels tip-tapping along. Waiters were floating around too, carrying flutes of champagne and hors d’oeuvres that I wasn’t entirely sure how to eat. I felt like Ariel in that scene from The Little Mermaid where she uses a fork for a hairbrush. Like I’d been picked up from my life as Becca Hart and dropped into an alternate universe of lavish food and expensive gowns. Two things I knew nothing about. If it weren’t for Brett smiling at my side, the entire night would have felt like a dream.
To be fair, Brett may have made this even more dreamlike. As soon as I thought he had reached his peak level of attractiveness, he put on a suit and blew my freaking mind.
His parents surprised me the most. I was still so deep in detective mode that I had expected his dad to be secretive and guarded, like those villains in movies that suspiciously stand in corners and watch the crowd. I thought his mom would have this sadness lurking beneath the surface, the same way mine used to. Instead they were all wide smiles, nonstop hand holding, and dressed to the nines. And I got what Brett meant by not being able to figure out the truth. From an outsider’s perspective, his family appeared picture perfect.
“Having fun?” Brett’s voice in my ear made me jump. He put his hands on my hips and it had a different effect on me now. Knowing that we weren’t pretending tonight changed everything.
“This place looks incredible,” I said.
“Right? I feel like we’re not even in Crestmont anymore. Or Georgia. You still have to meet my parents,” he said. His mom and dad had been so busy talking to all the guests that Brett hadn’t had a chance to introduce me yet. I was feeling more nervous by the minute.
“Where are they?” I asked.
Brett pushed my hips a little until I was facing the other side of the room. A bar had been set up along a wall entirely of windows. It looked like it led to an outdoor seating area. He pointed toward his parents, who were talking to another man and woman. “See that couple?” he said. “The woman is an interior designer. She did all the decorating.”
“Wow. Where’d they come from? New York?” There was no way this style was inspired by Georgia. There was too much glam and not enough comfort.
Brett grabbed what looked like a mini hot dog off a waiter’s tray and popped it into his mouth. “They live here,” he said. “You don’t recognize them?”
I looked a little closer, tried to see behind the glitz and glamour. Then I remembered their faces from years ago. “They’re the McHenrys,” I said. “Jenny’s parents.” As if on cue, Jenny walked right up to the bar and stood beside them.
“For the record, I didn’t know she’d be here until this moment. . . . You can meet my parents later,” he said, reading my mind. “Let’s go get some air.”
Brett led me through the crowd and out a set of glass doors. There was a small outdoor patio overlooking the pool that we were standing on. With the moon high in the sky and the humidity nowhere to be found, it was the perfect night. And it was quiet. So quiet. I could hear how quickly my heart was beating.
We were leaning against the railing, staring out into the darkness. Brett’s eyes shifted to me, then down to my toes. “I like your dress,” he said. His fingers reached out, touching my ironed curls. “And I like your hair when it’s like this.” Then he grabbed my hand, pulling me against his chest. “And I like us like this. Without the pretending.”
“Me too.”
Brett smiled. His eyes crinkled at the corners. “You do?”
“Yeah.” Maybe it was the darkness or the quiet that made my lips a little bit looser, because then I was saying, “I like you, Brett. Which was never supposed to happen. That’s why I was okay with our relationship being fake, because it was safe. It was supposed to prevent all of this so I wouldn’t have to worry about getting my heart broken. And now we’re here and everything feels too real and it’s scaring me.”