My brain feels addled, as if we’ve entered a parallel universe. Just last week she rejected him in plain sight of everyone—and now she has the nerve to ask if she can pop in on us while we’re working on decorations totake a video? For social media?
Why?!
Why is she asking his permission and not mine? Need I remind Easton that he wanted nothing to do with the committee? Nothing! I forced him to be on it! I AM THE REASON HE IS ON THE DAMN COMMITTEE!
My heart kicks up a notch as I force a neutral expression onto my face.
“Totally,” Easton replies quickly, dropping his arm from the locker. “Sure.”
Totally. Sure. Doesn’t even consult me about it.
The gall!
Worse still? The teasing glint in his eyes from when he and I were flirting has vanished, replaced by one that’s more serious, more attentive—all his attention on her. Meanwhile, Maddie continues to act like I’m not here, sparing me not even a second glance.
“Cool.” His crush shoots him a grin that could melt any guy’s resolve.
And just when I think she’s about to turn and walk away, Maddie pauses like she’s remembered something. She takes her braid and pulls at the rubber band. Gives him a coy smile.
“If you could use some extra hands, let me know.”
If you could use some extra hands, let me know.
NO.
WHAT?! No!
We do not want her! Not involved, not helping, not filming. Not anywhere!
No, no, no! Prom is my thing.Mine.Not his.
Easton’s blue gaze—the one I adore—follows her as she strides away, steps light and confident. Hips swaying. It’s like she’s the star of her own reality show, because in her world, she is.
I ignore the tightness in my chest at the feeling of being completely overshadowed.
Maddie Miller is the girl everyone wants, and I’m just, well…
Me.
There’s a moment of silence between us as we both watch her strutting away, the weight of unspoken things hanging in the air.
I blink, remembering we were mid-conversation before Maddie’s drop-by threw us off. “Sorry, what were we saying before?”
“Nothing. Maddie interrupted us.” Easton’s voice pulls me out of my morose monologuing. He may be looking at me again, but the energy between us has shifted. I’m annoyed.
Hurt.
Envious.
“Nothing,” I say, a bit sharper than I intended. My arms cross defensively as I look away, feigning indifference. “We weren’t talking about anything before she interrupted.”
He was flirting andshe ruined it.
Easton, the big dope, cocks his head at me like a confused puppy, eyes betraying him by staring down the hall in Maddie Miller’s wake, and if I had stuff to stuff in my locker I would be stuffing it.
“Yeah, exactly. So why do you look pissed?”
BECAUSE I’M JEALOUS! I want to shout. BECAUSE YOU LIKE HER AND NOW SHE’S GIVING YOU ATTENTION AND VOLUNTEERED TO HELP US.
