She devolves into squealing while I shush her, frantically trying to muffle the volume on the iPad before Mom overhears from the other room where she’s watching a docuseries on a big cat zookeeper.
“Shh, jesus!” I make a pained face as I flail my butter and flour covered hands around the iPad. “Oh my god, I’m going to end you! Please be quiet!”
“Okay.” Maisy sits up, leaning toward her phone. “But for real?”
Blushing, I say, “Well, yes and no? It’s not real. We’re pretending. His idea.”
“Tell me everything, girl!”
I laugh and wipe loose curls back from my forehead with my forearm, hesitating to figure out what to say.
Because that’s the thing—I can’t tell her everything. This is only the second time, ever, I’ve wanted to hide anything from her. She’s my best friend and we’ve never held back from each other. We’ve pretty much been synced up on the same monthly cycle, both getting our first periods within days of each other the second summer at camp. Good times.
Despite our open friendship and deep connection, the only other time I’ve kept something from her was when I had my online boyfriend. I was vague on the details, calling Henry a pen pal instead.
Checking around the corner to make sure Mom is still absorbed in her show, I keep my voice low. “So, he asked—well, no. He’s Connor,” I start, laughing nervously. “He demanded I pose as his girlfriend because he doesn’t date and doesn’t want a real one, but he’s got my pictures so what am I supposed to do? It’s not like I knew I was texting those photos to him. Now he says I’m his until graduation.”
“What? Why?”
“Right?” I shake my head. “It doesn’t make any sense. I told him to pick someone else, but he, uh…was really convincing.”
I suck on my lips, ignoring the tendril of heat when I think about how close I was to kissing him.
Maisy squints at me, her face filling more of the frame as she scoots across her floor. “You know his reputation, don’t you?”
Sighing, I nod. “Yeah. Anyway, he wouldn’t tell me when I asked for details. It kind of made me mad.”
As I add cold water and mix the ingredients into a sticky dough, my anger grows. I frown when I look down and find I’ve taken it out on my dough. I pat it in penance.
“Sorry,” I murmur.
“Are you talking to the food again?” Maisy snorts. “Goob.”
“That’s not what you say when I feed you my rustic tartlets.”
Maisy moans and rolls onto her back, folding her hands over her stomach with a blissful expression. “They’re so good. Screw school. We’ll run away together, head for Venice Beach. You’ll open up a trendy bakery, and I’ll teach yoga. We’ll live in a really shitty one-room apartment, but it’ll be close to the ocean, so who cares? It’ll be glorious.”
My breath puffs out on a laugh at her elaborate fantasies of leaving Ridgeview in the dust. “Yeah, I’ll make you some soon.”
“Goddess.” Maisy blows a kiss at the screen. She pops up on her elbows. “Ugh. Mom’s calling. I’ve got to go.”
I grimace in sympathy. Both of our mothers are a lot to handle. “Good luck, girl.”
After she ends the video call, my thoughts turn as I roll out and turn my pastry dough. A new sense of purpose fills me. I’m determined to get to the bottom of why Connor is so adamant he needs me by his side.
Fifteen
Connor
When I meet Thea in the morning, blocking her driveway so she has no choice but to get in, I’m prepared for battle. It turns out I don’t need to be. Other than rehashing the same argument about the merits of her doll car, she eventually gives in.
A few days pass where we settle into this new routine. I pick her up in the morning, she kicks up a cute little fuss about it, then when I remind her the clock is ticking she hops in. She still asks a deluge of questions, but is no longer resisting the deal. Her questions have my guard up. She’s probably looking for any way out, but now she’s approaching me with more logic and strategy.
Good luck, little mouse. You’re going up against a master. You can’t outsmart me.
She’s acting like she genuinely cares and wants to help, but I can’t believe that. I’m blackmailing her. Why would she help me?
Doctor Levitt would spout some crap about harboring trust beginning with small steps, like believing someone means what they say instead of looking for the lie, but people suck. We’re all wired to save ourselves. Thea can’t be as honest and straightforward as she seems.
As soon as we pull into the student lot in the morning, she scurries off before she’s seen. Without meaning to, I’ve been arriving before the rest of my crew. Somehow, she gets me to consider her. She gets under my skin, bending me to her will. It must be that inexplicable instinct to protect her.
For now it’s enough to add a few Instagram posts together to lay the groundwork. We can stay pretty DL until I need her on my arm for Mom’s campaigning, but she stays in my head all day and my dreams at night.
Devlin’s starting to notice. He busted my balls about it last night before our soccer match. He should focus on his own shit. I’ve seen glimpses of the kinky game he’s playing with Blair Davis.
It’s my fault anyway for pulling out my phone and looking at one of her photos in the locker room.
My days seem quiet and bland without her messages. I think I miss them, if that’s possible. Me. Torn up over a chick. Unbelievable.
All I keep wondering is if she misses what we had, too. It wasn’t always about getting off—she’d show me her baking, or slip in comments about her day. An amused sound punches out of me because she’s really chatty for such a quiet girl once she breaks past her line.
The move is hers to make, but I hope it won’t be long before she craves it too much to care that it’s me. I wasn’t kidding, I’m betting I’m the only one who can give her what she wants. Her stupid Wyatt couldn’t handle her, not like I can.
I might not believe her word, but the physical chemistry between us? It’s a firecracker.
Thinking about her texting me, knowing it’s me this time… I trace my lip and cock my head. Anticipating the satisfying thrill is almost too much to handle.
I’m stalking the halls, looking for Devlin before first period when he didn’t show in the parking lot, but something else makes me halt. Some underclassman crashes into my back and I swear I can see his soul leave his body when my scowl lands on him. The kid squeaks out some apology and disappears. I turn my attention back to what made me stop.
Thea. Standing awfully fucking close to Coleman.
Her secret blog I discovered flashes in my head. Is Thea better at this than I gave her credit for, putting on a good girl act to get attention? I knew it. No one’s that naïve. And here I was, all protective over her when I saw those creepy comments. But she clearly has no qualms throwing herself at men.
Fake girlfriend or not, teacher or not, no chick of mine should be seen cozying up with another man. I need to do a deeper dig on Coleman to find something—anything on him that will keep him away from Thea. My suspicion from the other day hasn’t faded.