“You’re different,” I admit.
We suddenly stop dancing. “Because I’m not as attractive as him, right?”
“Huh? No. It’s nothing like that at all. It’s because I like you, I lo—”
He cuts me off. “Love him.”
“Eww gross. No, I was going to say I loathe him. He makes my skin crawl and the urge to vomit intensify.”
Rich laughs. “That’s foreplay, Poppy. Underneath all that hate is attraction—a pull you can’t quite explain. That’s why Eddie’s so drawn to Amber. When you meet the right person, you just gravitate towards them.”
Morgan’s now got Wesley back on the dance floor. She’s chatting in his ear as they sway together, but his eyes are focused on me, holding my gaze, a determination and silent claim lingering.
I try to look away but fail. My lashes flutter as I catch his gaze, the unwanted attraction burning between us.
“See,” Rich whispers. “What you’re feeling isn’t hate, Poppy. It’s misplaced devotion.”
Any kind of comeback stalls in my throat. Because from somewhere deep inside me, I almost agree with him.
Almost.
When the song finally ends, Rich pulls away, lightly tipping my chin to look up at him. “Thanks for making my prom not so bad, Poppy. At least I can say I slow danced with a pretty girl when my dad tries to ask.”
My smile falters just a tad, realizing there’s more behind the mask than just the gratefulness he’s feeling. It’s being seen when everyone else runs away
Zoe’s laugh breaks his confidence, and his shoulders slouch just a tad.
“You can do better, Rich. Some girl out there is going to sweep you off your feet someday.”
He laughs. “I like your positivity, Poppy. But I realized long ago that the only girls who will ever be interested in me are the wrong ones.”
“Done with your pity dance, Poppy?” Tony drunkenly asks, swinging an arm over my shoulder, his breath reeking of alcohol.
Shrugging off his arm, I turn on my heels with a glare so deadly it could draw blood. “Excuse me?”
He laughs. “With the freak. I asked if you’re done dancing with him?”
“Don’t you dare call him that!”
With an aggravated eye roll, he tugs on my arm. “Come on, prom’s getting boring. Let’s go upstairs and fuck.”
Wrenching my arm out of his grasp, I fire back at him, “Absolutely not.”
“What? Don’t be stupid, Poppy. Come on.” He tries to grab my hand again, but this time I slap it away, seconds from following it with a right cross to his smug, inebriated face.
His look of disgust says it all. Tony isn’t just a jerk; he’s a fucking douchebag just like Wesley predicted.
“You do realize that you can be replaced, right? That there are a string of girls just waiting to take your place. Don’t embarrass me. Just come upstairs.”
“She said leave her alone,” Rich growls beside me.
“Shut up, freak. No one’s talking to you.”
He takes a drunken swing at Rich, but it’s wild and misses him completely and almost nails me right in the cheek.
“Watch where you throw those fists, Tony,” Wesley growls, pushing his way in between us so that I’m out of range of any more flying fists. That last one came too close.
“Sober up, Tony,” Wesley threatens. “Better yet, go the fuck home.”
