“Wake up, fucker.”
He jerks. “Ow, what the hell?” He rubs his arm dramatically.
I nod at his house, and his eyes follow.
“Thanks, man.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
He shakes his head, refusing to look at me. “Not really. I probably fucked up, but it’s what I do, right?” The laugh that spills out is humorless.
I tense. “Fucked up how?”
He faces me, eyes a little clearer after his nap. “Not like that.” He assures me, and I let out a breath. I already have enough shit to worry about with Pacey. I don’t need him slipping back into old habits, too.
We’ve fucked around a bit, especially once we started playing gigs. Instead of cash, sometimes people would pay us in weed or pills, or whatever they had lying around. It was hard to turn down. Travis got carried away for a while but was able to dig himself out with our help.
“I probably just got myself a stage five clinger.”
“I assume you’re not talking about Ellie.”
He winces. “No, that’s pretty much over. We had our fun.”
I sigh. Should’ve seen that coming after all the panicking he was doing last week.
He opens the door and climbs out. “Donotanswer those Instagram messages, dude. They’re crazy. And not the good kind.”
21
OLIVIA
I didn’t knowtime could pass so quickly when you don’t know what to wear. I have nearly every piece of clothing I own out of my closet and tossed on my bed—and I havea lotof clothes. I’ve changed four times and screamed twice. The last scream caused Ellie to come running. She’s fixing my hair while we debate what I should wear.
“Where’s he taking you?” She wraps a strand of hair around the wand.
“I don’t know, he wouldn’t tell.”
Penn called earlier to make sure I hadn’t changed my mind. When I asked what we were doing, he said, “don’t worry about it,” leaving me clueless on how to dress.
“Gathering what we know about him so far, I’d say it’s nothing fancy. Think of all the places Chad took you and toss them in the trash. He’s not taking you there.” I meet her eyes through my vanity mirror, and she shrugs, continuing to curl my hair until every piece is a perfectly tousled beach wave. She massages my scalp, giving me extra volume, and adds a dash of hairspray. “Done!”
I apply a light layer of blush, mascara, and pink lipstick.
“I think you should wear a skirt, sans underwear.”
My head snaps around. “What?”
“No underwear.”
“Yeah, I got that.” I shake my head, dropping the tube of lipstick back in its place.
“I’m just saying, you look great in a skirt. It’s kind of your signature look, you know?”
“Yeah?”
“No underwear will make access easier,” she says slowly.
I stare at her with my mouth wide open, and she bursts out laughing.
