“Don’t.” Her voice breaks a little. “Let me go. This is just as much my fault as it is yours—so go to prom with Maddie. I’m sure you’ll have a great time.”
I falter. “I’ll text her and tell her no.”
My cajoling tone seems to piss her off even more, and her eyesflash.
“Spoiler alert, Einstein: She probably doesn’t even like you, and I do not care how mean I sound. I’m mad.” She huffs. “Maddie is competitive; that’s what this is about, and if you’re too stupid to see it, that’s your problem.”
Whoa.
I take a step back.
Her word vomit is so uncalled for.
Sure, I hear the hurt and embarrassment—but she’s taking her frustration out on me.
“Wow,” Deshaun mutters, as stunned as I am.
I forgot for a second that this confrontation is happening in front of our friends.
Her words are harsh, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to call her dramatic and theatrical and tell her she’s blowing this out of proportion.
But because I’m a dipshit, I don’t have the mental bandwidth to salvage this conversation.
Harper gives me one last look before spinning on her heels and stalking straight for the cafeteria doors without glancing back.
I let her go.
Frozen in place, weallwordlessly watch her go. Every part of me wants to chase her, but I can’t make myself move. Fortunately, after a momentary lapse from group shock, Macy rises from her seat to follow her best friend.
“Shit,” Marcus says under his breath. “That was hella awkward.”
“Dang,” Deshaun agrees. “Guess we’re not going to the gym after school.”
Chapter 31
Harper
“So you’re really going to send him a message?” Macy asks calmly, though I can hear the curiosity beneath her words. After school we drove straight to my house and holed up in my bedroom, surrounded by papers, snacks—and the weight of everything I haven’t confessed to my best friend.
She knows nothing about what I’ve actually been up to the past two weeks.
My gaze drifts to the ceiling as I lie flat on my back, tracing the familiar cracks and patterns with my eyes, suddenly finding them way more interesting than anything else in the room. Tightness lingers in my chest, a pressure that’s been building since Macy and I walked through the door.
It’s nearly unbearable.
“I don’t know.” I fiddle with an old teddy bear, playing with his floppy ear. “He can go to prom with anyone he wants. It’s a free country. I should let it go.”
Macy sits cross-legged next to me, her expression patient.
I know she wants to pepper me with a million questions and it’s killing her not to interrupt.
That’s the thing with Macy; she knows when to give me space. Right now I don’t know what I need from her, but I’m grateful she’s here; she was the only person to follow me out of the cafeteria to check on me.
Guilt eats at me.
She doesn’t know—no one knows—the secret I’ve been keeping.
“Macy,” I start, clutching my bear. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
