I walk into my bedroom and quietly close the door. I sit on the edge of my unmade bed, bracing myself for what she’s going to say next.
After Mack started dating Trey, I tried to keep my distance. We spent the next few months ignoring each other, but it didn’t last. Like two magnets drawn together, we eventually found ourselves friends again. It’s been that way for the last eight years.
I’ve hated every single minute.
As much as I play my part, I can’t get over Mackenzie Banks. And trust me—I’ve tried.
I listen as Mack unloads the events of her evening starting with the Halloween costume—which gives me a vivid image of what she looks like right now and ending with her driving away from the party, Trey yelling after her.
I’m lying on my back, one arm covering my eyes in frustration, the other holding the phone to my ear as I listen to the girl of my dreams cry over her terrible boyfriend.
We’ve had these moments over the years, me listening, and her unloading. There was a time when Trey went berserk about my friendship with her and we didn’t talk at all. It didn’t last long, thankfully, and I can still remember the relief in my chest when she texted me again for the first time. We don’t talk a lot, but it’s increased in the last six months, to the point I think I know more about what’s really going on with her, more than my sister does.
Things between Trey and Mack are getting progressively worse. And does it make me a horrible person to be a tiny bit hopeful it ends? Probably. But I do—and I won’t apologize for it. If I had known back then that they would still be together, I’d have fought harder for her. Hindsight and all that.
I was a coward. And now? I’m stuck firmly in the friend zone.
After a night of no sleep,I convince my sister to make me an omelet—or two, and after we are able to talk through what happened between her, Drew, and Riggs, she seems to be in a slightly better headspace.
Me? Not so much. I can’t stop going through all the things Mack told me last night. I’m distracted at practice and end up having to run suicide sprints for twenty minutes after the other guys leave.
She confides in me about all the hard parts of her relationship with Trey, and shares all the happiness with my sister. Reagan thinks Trey is a great guy, but she doesn’t know the truth. He has taken Mackenzie for granted since they moved to California.
She deserves better.
I’m not sure that’s me, but I know for a fact it isn’t Trey Spencer.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
MACKENZIE
Iawake with a start at the pounding on the front door. Sitting up, I feel like I got hit by a train—my head is pounding, my eyes dry and irritated. Looking down, I realize I’m still in my leather suit from the party last night. I don’t know how I ever fell asleep in this outfit that feels more like a second skin than a jumpsuit. It’s suctioned to my body; I might have to cut myself out of it.
I grab my phone to see that I missed my morning class—and that there are several missed calls and texts from Trey. I don’t plan on replying to any of them. I sink back down and pull a pillow over my face.
The knocking starts again and I know who it is without a doubt.
“Kenzie, baby, please answer the door.”
My stomach churns at the thought of seeing him. I know what I saw last night and my eyes sting as the images flash through my head.
My boyfriend—with a girl on his lap. The same girl who has chased after him since we started freshman year. The jersey chaser, puck bunny, whatever you want to call her—Kayla. I’ve heard rumors, but Trey always dismisses them as nothing. A year ago, I would’vebelieved him because that Trey would never give me a reason to doubt him. After last night, I don’t know what to believe.
I peel off the costume—thankfully without needing scissors or the jaws of life. I throw on an oversized hoodie with a pair of running shorts, I toss my long blonde hair in a messy bun before opening the door.
Relief floods Trey’s face as we make eye contact, but I only narrow my eyes, trying to mask the hurt with anger. He swallows nervously, realizing this isn’t like every other time he’s talked me down from hearing about Kayla.
“Baby.” I see tears in his eyes—Trey rarely cries. My mask falters as I hesitantly let him into my apartment. I give myself a silent pep talk to hold my ground and not be swayed by his sweet words and handsome face.
As I follow him in, I’m grateful my parents paid for my own apartment. I did the whole roommate thing for a couple of years and it was miserable. I haven’t made many friends here in California besides Trey’s teammates and their significant others, but even that is surface level at best. Most of my time outside of school has been volunteering at local elementary schools or alone with Trey. Well—until he decided partying was more important than me.
Before I can say anything, he pulls me to him in an embrace that feels like home and like I’m hugging a complete stranger. The thought sends a shudder ripping through me.
I quickly pull away and step back from him, his sadness morphing into a tense frown. His emotions flip so easily now, or maybe I’m just noticing it because I’ve always been enthralled with this man. I’ve ignored so many red flags, convincing myself he didn’t have any.
“Kenzie, let me explain. It’s not what you think.”
