Page 31 of Wanna Bet?

“Nothing,” Myah said flatly.

Kaylee gasped theatrically. “Rude. It’s not nothing. It’s basically a social experiment.”

“It’s not,” Myah said.

“It is,” Kaylee insisted. “Myah’s seeing how fast she can get a customer to fall in love with her.”

That wasn't true. They had agreed on it being a date. No one said anything about love.

Myah stared at her. “Kaylee.”

“What? Don't tell me you're backing out.”

The new girl’s eyes widened. “Wait, seriously?”

Something defensive tightened in Myah’s chest, sharp and protective, like someone had stepped too close to something she didn’t want touched. “It’s not like that,” she said.

Kaylee tilted her head. “You literally said you could make him blush on command.”

“That is not the same thing as–”

“So did you win?” the new girl interrupted eagerly. “Is he obsessed yet?”

The word scraped across Myah’s nerves wrong, and she felt heat rise along her neck as she reached for another cup, focusing on it so she wouldn’t have to focus on the sudden knot in her chest. “It was a joke,” she said with a shrug she hoped looked convincing.

She was beginning to feel sick. It was a joke, a mean, immature, stupid joke.

Kaylee studied her for a moment, something perceptive slipping behind her teasing expression. “Oh?” she said lightly.

“Yeah. Just messing around.”

The new girl looked faintly disappointed. “Aw. I thought it was like a challenge or something.”

Myah snapped a lid onto the cup a little harder than necessary. “Sorry to ruin the reality show.”

Kaylee held her gaze for a beat longer, then smiled again, softer this time, and turned back toward her window. “Well,” she said, “if it was a challenge, you’d definitely be winning.”

Myah knew Kaylee wasn't confused. She was the one who made the bet with her, but Myah was still thankful that Kaylee was putting on a front for the new girl.

Still, Myah didn’t respond, because the word obsessed was still echoing faintly in her head and she didn’t like the way it felt there. She didn’t want Jace to be obsessed with her. She didn’t want him tangled up in something messy or unstable or unpredictable. She wanted–she stopped herself before finishing the thought, because she didn’t trust where it might lead if she let it form completely.

Instead she reached into the paper bag, broke off a piece of pastry, and took a bite. It was still warm, soft and sweet in a way that made her throat tighten again, and she swallowed slowly, staring out at the line of waiting cars while the feeling settled into her chest, complicated.

Three days had felt like a long time before. But now that she knew she’d see him tomorrow, it didn’t feel long at all.

Chapter Eight

From: Ellie Wellie

​Hey, J. Me and Issaky are sick so you’ll be at the store alone today. Sorry.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Rain had a way of settling over Seattle like a mood that couldn’t quite decide whether it wanted to be melancholy or comforting. That morning it clung to the city in a fine, silvery curtain that blurred the edges of buildings and turned every passing car into a watercolor smear of motion.

Jace watched it through the record store’s front windows, his forearms resting along the counter, his chin tipped slightly downward as if he could lean closer to the glass and better understand what it was trying to say. The sky was a dull sheet of gray, not stormy, just steady and patient in the way Seattle rain always was, and the sidewalk outside shone dark with wet, reflecting the neon “OPEN” sign backwards like a secret written in another language.

It had been raining like that since before he’d unlocked the door that morning, the kind of rain that didn’t fall so much as exist, drifting endlessly from the sky in a soft, persistent hush. The city seemed quieter in it, padded by damp air and the smell of pavement, and inside the shop the stillness deepened until the whole place felt suspended in a gentle, humming pause. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly. Somewhere in the back, a record turned on the store player, needle gliding through grooves with a soft static whisper that sounded like breath.