Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 100612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“No idea.”
Macy pulls a face when she gets a glimpse of me. “Girl, take that sweatshirt off. You look chopped.”
I know!
“I don’t want him to see my dress!” I tell her. It feels like bad luck.
Macy is laughing so hard I’m surprised she isn’t rolling on the floor in her dress.
“Okay. I’m doing it.” I’m going to be brave and stick my head out. I am brave. “Deep breath.”
“I’m sorry, but this is amazing,” my bestie whisper-giggles, wiping tears from her eyes.
I take a deep breath, count to three, and pray that miraculously, I can survive this day without dying of humiliation.
I tiptoe toward the door and take one last deep breath. Turn the knob and peek my nose through the slightest crack.
“Yes?” Um. “Hello, sir. May I help you?”
WHY ARE YOU HERE?
Easton gazes back at me, gawking. “What is going on?” He tries to look over my head and into my bedroom. “Did I interrupt something?”
Yes.
He one thousand percent interrupted my dignity.
Easton continues to squint at me, gaze roaming from my face to my hoodie to my skirt, bouncing around like a pinball. Homes in on the sparkles of my bottom half.
“Are you wearing a dress?”
Technically I am wearing THE dress, but he doesn’t have to know that.
“Yes. I was cleaning out my closet.”
“Oh. Well. I came back ’cause I wanted talk to you about before.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall adjacent to my room.
“Before?” Just go away so I can put my clothes back on!
“At the rink.” He looks bashful and self-conscious.
I nod robotically. “ ’Kay. Give me a second. I, uh—have to change.”
“Want me to wait downstairs?”
YES! Obviously!
“Please. Give me, like, five minutes.” Or ten. “Ask my dad how to get into the garage. Be right there.”
If I can get this dress off without tearing it or splitting a seam.
Easton gives me one last assessing glance before ambling back down the hallway from whence he came, eliciting a loud sigh from the place where my phone is propped.
Shit.
Macy is still listening.
“Wow,” she breathes. “You dodged a bullet.”
I sigh, gingerly attempting to pull the sweatshirt back over my head, doing my best not to snag any sequins.
Macy flops onto her bed, crossing her legs, also still in her prom dress. The layers of fabric puff around her as she props her chin in her hand, eyes twinkling with amusement.
“I knew it,” she crows, raising an eyebrow at me. “He’s totally into you. Harp, he showed up at your house. That boy is waving a green flag. It’s so cute that he regrets being a dumbass.”
I’m too nervous to laugh.
With my friend watching, I delicately pull the hoodie off. The dress. Saunter to my closet and pull out a fresh T-shirt—one that fits—and black bike shorts.
“You’re so adorable when you’re flustered,” Macy teases.
I slip on my shorts, sucking in my stomach as I yank them over my thighs, hopping to squeeze myself in.
“I guess.”
Macy watches me with a knowing smile, fluffing the skirt of her massive lavender dress. “I have to text Marcus about this. We’re, like, matchmakers!”
I wince. She doesn’t know that the reason Easton has been hanging around lately is because I’m forcing him to, and there is no way I’m telling her. If I let Macy in on the secret, she’ll tell Marcus, and by tomorrow, everyone at school will know everything.
My stomach drops. “Macy—do not.”
I catch her wicked grin before her screen pauses. “Too late.”
“Why are you the worst?!”
“I’m the best,” she corrects me. “And when Marcus confirms that Easton is down bad for you, I’ll accept your apology.”
I sigh, brushing invisible lint off my shorts. “If I kill you, do I have to go to prom alone?” I give my chin a tap with the tip of my finger.
Macy gasps dramatically. “Harper Conrad. Violence?”
I grimace at the thought, snatching my phone off the nightstand and glowering at her. “Cool it with getting in the middle, okay? Easton and I are just friends.”
Friends.
The word sits awkwardly in my mouth.
Macy raises an eyebrow but doesn’t argue. Instead, she smirks. “Who knows, Debbie Downer—he might end up asking you to prom.”
Magic 8 Ball says: Most likely.
Because that was the original plan.
Chapter 13
Easton
I stand in Harper’s garage, surrounded by half-painted knights, nervously shifting from one foot to the other. I’m still in my gym clothes, damp with sweat, my hair a tangled mess from the car ride over.
Regret gnaws at me, twists tight in my chest as I stare at the scattered mess of our decorations. The knights lean against the wall, their shields missing details. A cardboard shield sits on a folding table, the design traced with pencil abandoned because I had to leave in a rush.
Everything looks unfinished.
Incomplete.
Kind of like whatever’s been happening between Harper and me.
This waiting is torture. It’s giving me too much time to think, and thinking is exactly what I’ve been trying to avoid.