Yes, he apologized, but there was distance in it. A quiet kind of retreat that told me not to push again.
I feel like giving him some space is a good idea right now. Maybe I’m giving myself space, too.
Still, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking about the consequences of staying home today. If Amber goes and they spend the whole day together—laughing, drinking, reconnecting—what then? Would that be all it takes to seal the deal? To make whatever’s between them official again? Hayes barely has time for me as it is. If he gets a girlfriend, especially one as clingy as Amber, that time is going to drop to zero.
What did he say again last night?
Oh, right.
She just “fits into his life.”
Does that mean I don’t anymore?
Of course, he also dropped that life-altering bombshell about being forced to move to Greece after the school year. Not for a semester abroad. Not for summer break. Move permanently—as in, pack up and go. So maybe he’s just trying to keep his head above water, focusing on how to handle his parents and his future. Maybe Amber, and whatever’s left between them, isn’t even on his mind right now.
Sometime after lunch, I hear Amber’s heels clacking across the tile as she heads out. I’m sprawled on my futon, door shut, bingeing oldBuffy the Vampire Slayerreruns. I’ve seen every episode a dozen times, but I never get tired of them. Buffy was everything—smart, fierce, brave even when she was terrified. Outnumbered or not, she never backed down. She always ran toward the monsters. There’s just something about that kind of courage that sticks with you.
“Come on, let’s go,” my sister says, barging in my bedroom and plopping down beside me. “The party’s already started.”
I don’t even look up from the laptop screen.
“I’m not going.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’ll be fun, Ally.” She elbows me lightly. “You can ride with me and the girls.”
She sounds sweet and sincere, but I know her too well. I’d bet money Mom sent her in here to try and convince me, probably bribed her with one of those Sephora gift cards her clients hand out instead of tips.
Typical Mom.
She’s already tried twice this morning herself. This has her fingerprints all over it.
“No, thanks.”
“But Mom says?—”
Bingo.
I knew it.
“I don’t care what Mom says,” I say flatly. “I already told her I’m not going, and I’m not changing my mind. So you can both just back off, okay?”
I finally look up—and instantly regret it.
Amber’s wearing a brand-new dress I’ve never seen before: pale Cinderella blue, body-skimming, with flutter sleeves and a cutout at the waist. I know she already blew her last paycheck on her Homecoming dress, which means Mom must’ve caved and bought her this one.
Her blonde hair is curled into perfect, bouncy waves, her skin still glowing from a fresh spray tan. She looks like she belongs on the cover of a magazine. Every guy at that party is going to lose their mind when they see her.
Including Hayes.
A hot knot of envy twists under my ribs. I don’t want to care. Ishouldn’tcare.
But I do.
I hate how easy it all is for her. How she gets to sparkle and be adored and doesn’t even have to try.
“I just thought it might be fun to hang out today,” she says, almost shyly. “You know… like we used to.”
I hesitate, something in me softening a bit.
