Love is not for you; we’ve been through that already.
How could anyone love you?
The silly, pathetic little girl.
How could anyone love the girl that barely loves herself? The girl that can’t look in the mirror normally without finding a flaw.
If you can’t look at yourself without a flaw, how could anyone else?
He might just feel bad for you.
That’s not good, is it? If people feel bad for you, that means the cracks are showing.
Cracks can’t show, but you know that already.
Too many cracks will reveal that you are hiding something.
Curious people will want to know more.
So how about we don’t show them the cracks, ok?
Anyways, Luca doesn’t love you.
That’s impossible.
Chapter 7
Tilly
“Let me see what you packed,” Yana says, flopping down on my bed like she owns the place, which, honestly, at this point, she kind of does.
“Why?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“What do you mean, why? No one in this house knows fashion better than me. I bet you packed nothing but bikinis, shorts, and your five-step morning routine!”
I blink. “Yeah… well, what else do I need? It’s just a three-week trip.” I shrug, trying to sound casual.
All a girl needs for a volleyball tournament is shorts, a couple of swimsuits, sunscreen, and maybe one hoodie for the flight.
“You'd better tell me you’re joking right now.” She gapes at me.
“Enlighten me.” I lean against the headboard.
I was reading a depressing book about a girl and her toxic family when she interrupted me.
Sure, I might have forgotten some things, but it’s no biggie if I did. It’s not like New York doesn’t have a toothbrush.
“Tilly,” she says slowly, like she’s about to drop something very important, “We are going to America for,” she uses her fingers for a dramatic effect. “Threeweeks.”
“Yeah, for a volleyball tournament,” I say cautiously, squinting at her as if she is obsessing over this too much, because she is.
Yana shakes me. “Are you even hearing me? You need makeup in case we go to a fancy event. You need dresses. Clothes. Perfume. Bags. Shoes. Think about New York. California. We won’t spendevery hour sweating on sand. We’ll be exploring, eating, and taking photos!
She puts her hands on my shoulders and looks at me seriously. “Sure, it’s a business trip, but we’re lucky. Our work is flexible and not time-consuming. We’re allowed to have fun.”
She is right.
I bite my lip while I think over it.
