Normally, his touch would light me up. Butterflies in my stomach, warmth flooding every inch of me, my heart cartwheeling just from being pulled under his arm.
But right now? There's nothing.
No butterflies. No warmth. Just this dull, aching heaviness in my chest. His arm feels like a weight instead of wings, pressing down instead of lifting me.
"Sorry, guys," he says, flashing that grin that gets him away with everything. "We've gotta bounce. Rain check on the victory party, yeah?"
He waves them off with his free hand, walking backwards like a showman, dragging me along with him so smoothly no one even thinks to argue.
That's Zach—always in control, always smiling, the golden boy who can charm his way out of anything.
Behind us, I hear her jaw practically hit the floor, the sharp intake of her offended gasp. When I risk a glance back, she'sstanding there with her arms crossed, huffing like Zach just ripped her crown off her head in front of the whole school.
Part of me should feel victorious, like maybe I got the last word without even opening my mouth.
But the truth? I don't feel like I won anything at all.
CHAPTER THREE
CAROLINE
The drive home is... quiet. Too quiet.
And me? I'm never quiet.
Not inourcar.
Normally, this is when I'd have Taylor Swift blasting on shuffle, screaming along like I'm auditioning for American Idol: Tone-Deaf Edition. Zach would join in too, because duh—he's contractually obligated as my best friend. Not because he's a Swiftie (though, let's be real, I converted him years ago).
Flashback: we got our licenses two years ago, our parents threw us a joint Toyota RAV4 for our 16th birthday, and the deal was we had to share it.
Translation: endless drives together. And because I loved Tay Tay and Zach loved me—ugh, not in the way I want, but still—he let me hijack the stereo every single time.
He used to groan,"Sugarplum, this is too girly for my taste."
Three weeks later? He was hummingAll Too Well.
Two months later? BeltingLove Storylike his life depended on it.
Point is, car rides with us are usually chaos. Loud. Off-key. Fun.
But tonight? Silence. No Taylor. No me screeching like a banshee. Just... quiet.
I've got my eyes squeezed shut, pretending I'm exhausted—likeI'mthe one who just played three brutal hockey periods and scored a hat trick.
Spoiler: I'm not tired. I'm just avoiding him. Because if I look at Zach right now, all I'm going to see is the hot tub. Her hands. His mouth. The whole Cici nightmare reel on repeat.
And no, thank you.
I ball my fist on my lap. Stupid.Stupid.Why did I think about it again? Now it's stuck in my brain like a cursed TikTok sound.Shit. Shit. Shit.
Meanwhile, I can feel him glancing at me. Every few seconds, those silver eyes flick over like he's checking if I'm really asleep. Maybe he wants to talk about it. Maybe he's gearing up to apologize. Maybe he's panicking because he knows he got caught lying to me.
Well, too bad.
I amsonot in the mood to play Confessional Best Friend right now. He doesn't get my forgiveness.
Not tonight. Not when the only thing I can think about is him pressed up against Cici in chlorine water, doing things I wish he was doing with me instead.
