I scrub a hand down my face and head inside, the door clicking shut behind me.
One thing is clear: I can’t sit in the middle of two people.
I need to figure out what the hell I’m doing.
Chapter 20
Harper
“Know what would be ironic?” I mutter, twisting the combination on my locker. “If Maddie Miller suddenly decides Easton is worth her time because she senses I’m interested.”
I wouldn’t put it past her. It seems like the type of superhuman skill a girl like her would be gifted: the ability to smell my desperation, because prom is this week and Easton hasn’t asked me the big question yet. The CLOCK IS TICKING.
The universe loves pulling that kind of crap—especially on me. The second you start catching feelings—the second youthinksomething good is going to happen—the world steps in and laughs in your face.
Still, the thought barely dampens the giddiness buzzing under my skin.
Easton called me this weekend! Totalk!
Not for a favor. Not to argue. Not because of my ridiculous blackmail scheme.
Just because.
I sigh louder than I’ve ever sighed, blissfully lost in my ownthoughts. I totally sound like I’m thinking about a boy, too happy to be jealous of Maddie Miller.
“Hey.”
The voice startles me so much I slam my locker shut. My heart nearly jumps out of my chest as I turn—and find Easton standing there, backpack slung over his shoulder.
“Jesus,warna girl next time,” I breathe, pressing a hand to my chest, eyes raking up and down his body.
Joggers.
Hoodie.
Adidas.
He leans against his locker as I reopen mine. “Would you mind doing me a favor? I need a ride home and Marcus is being a prick…”
He shoots me one of his dazzling smiles meant to win me over.
As if I would say no! Alone in the car with him? Again?
Yes, please!
“Didn’t mean to freak you out, by the way,” he goes on. “I thought you heard me walk over.”
Freaked out? Hardly. Daydreaming is more like it…
“It’s fine.” I look around for stragglers, but the hallway is mostly empty now that school’s out. “I can give you a ride home, no problem.”
“You sure?” He sounds apologetic. “ ’Cause I can camp out in the hallway, begging for someone to take pity on me.”
I hide my smile in the stack of books in my arms. Organize them neatly in my locker before shutting the door and facing him again. It’s not lost on me that Easton knows dozens of people who could drive him home, but instead?
He askedme.
“That’s what friends are for.” I hope the dig grates at him the way I intend it to, the subtle reminder that we are friendswho kissed.
