Chapter 17
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
Berlyn
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” I say, staring down at the costume in my hands that Summer brought.
She sighs wistfully, running my straightener through her hair. “I still can’t believe we had a sleepover with three hot tattooed men.”
I groan and roll my eyes. It’s been days and she still finds a way to bring it up every chance she gets. “You don’t always have to include that they’re tattooed,” I say, rather than asking why she keeps bringing it up. It only encourages her more.
She shakes her head in disagreement, nearly burning her ear off. “It’s an important fact. Maybe the most important fact.”
“Not their height?” I ask sarcastically, but she cocks her head and takes it seriously.
“Perhaps equally important.” She hums to herself. “Though Ezra’s slutty little glasses are also high on the list.”
I slow blink, staring at my best friend as if she’s grown an extra head. I have no words for her.
“What?” she asks, as if I’m the crazy one here. “You know you like them.”
No words. None at all. Maybe a first for me. I need to change the subject. The guys have already been living rent-free in my head since our impromptu sleepover. Okay, even before that.
“Or is it Jude and his strong arms and big comfortable chest you’re all obsessed with right now after using him as a pillow?”
My face heats and I can practically feel myself becoming a tomato as flashbacks of waking up in his arms assault me. Nope, nope, nope. I can’t go there. I really really can’t. Or I’ll never be able to look him in the eyes again.
I tighten my fists around the light blue dress in my hand that Summer brought for me to wear tonight. “Did you find these in the kid’s section?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Subtle,” she snorts.
“Wasn’t trying to be,” I fire back. I could not care less about subtlety right now, not when I’m doing everything in my power to forget how nice it felt to be in Jude’s arms.
I’m a whore. A total whore. Falling for three guys. Jude’s strong arms, Ezra’s slutty little glasses, and West’s quiet but sweet demeanor. How can they all be so different and yet intrigue me so thoroughly?
Summer takes pity on me, even though I know she’s loving every second of this. “But yes. Yes, I did find them in the kid’s section and they’re perfect.”
I hold the dress up and stare at it. “Are we sure it’s going to fit?”
She scoffs, waving me off. “It’ll be fine. Probably a little short, but that’s the point.”
I shouldn’t have let her be in charge. Next year, I’m picking our costumes. My ideas were all good and none of them required shopping in the kid’s section.
“Just trust me,” she says, rolling her eyes as she begins to curl the ends of hair.
There’s no other choice but to trust her so I sit down at her side and grab the straightener, touching up my own hair and mimicking the way she’s styling it. Her wild curls were a lot harder to tame than my own loose waves and we nearly finish at the same time.
Summer helps pin my hair back with the small flower barrette to match her own and we both look at ourselves in the mirror.
We could totally pass as twins. Fraternal twins.
From different fathers. And mothers. I smirk and Summer laughs, knowing exactly what I’m thinking.
We look nothing alike. Even styled exactly the same we don’t even pass as cousins, let alone twins.
“Close enough,” she teases and I laugh. Some of the anxiety about tonight falls away as we start talking about the book we both started reading as one of our Fall reads and do our makeup.
Summer is the first friend I’ve ever had that has had the same taste in books as I do.
She’s the first friend that has ever actually felt like a friend and I’ve shared any interests with period.
I never realized how shallow my previous friendships were and how much I was missing out on until I met Summer.
Our lives integrated so quickly, I have no idea how I survived so long without her.
Reading is a solitary hobby, something you do alone.
But being able to talk about it with someone, to analyze and try to predict what is going to happen next, to debrief what we think of each character and their choices, it makes reading so much more fun.
More immersive. Makes me feel closer to her too.
We are almost always on the same page with what we think, but tend to have different favorite characters.
“Not to bring back all the anxiety I know you just settled,” she says wryly and I cringe. “But have you heard anything from your stalker?”
I shake my head, hating that I’m a little disappointed by that.
“Nothing since the flowers.” The flowers that are slowly dying, yet I can’t bring myself to get rid of them.
They shouldn’t feel as sentimental as they do.
But they felt thoughtful and kind. Made me feel special and seen.
Understood in a way that only Summer has ever made me feel.
Far too embarrassing to admit aloud. Even to my best friend.
“You know my favorite theory,” she starts slowly. I do. She’s made so many jokes about it, it’s hard not to link the guys and my stalker at this point. Maybe that’s why I’ve been softening towards the idea and maybe even missing the break ins a little bit.
Absolutely crazy thought to have, but as I stare at my laundry basket once more overflowing with clean clothes that I’ve yet to fold, I can’t deny the feeling. Who wouldn’t miss someone coming in and cleaning for them?
It’s not like they ever hurt me.
I should really get my head checked out. I’m clearly losing it.
“Well,” Summer continues, “I had another theory. One not as fun.”
Taking a deep breath, I put down my makeup and give her serious consideration. She’s nervous about whatever this theory is. I nod for her to go ahead.
“What if it was Professor Richards?”
I reel back in shock at the accusation. Nothing about it feels even remotely close to possible and yet, I can’t outright deny her either. I never thought he would be one to hit on a student either.
She puts her hands up in defense. “Just hear me out. He hits on you, you deny him, both he and your stalker disappear,” she points out. “We haven’t had class since your meeting, no more emails or communications, nothing has been graded. So what if it was him all along?”
A shudder runs down my spine at the thought of it being my professor who had been breaking in and roaming freely around my house while I slept. But…something about it…I just can’t picture it.
Him being a creep? Yes. Stalking me? Yes.
The flowers? The cleaning? The notes and gifts though?
“Do we really see the guy that asked for sexual favors in exchange for an internship as someone who would come to my house and do handiwork and chores without expecting anything in return?” I ask.
She hums under her breath and I pick back up my eyeliner and start on my wing while she considers it. “That’s true,” she finally agrees. “The timing is just too perfect to be a coincidence.”
I shrug after finishing my eyeliner. “Maybe there’s another explanation.”
Summer doesn’t respond right away, focusing on putting her mascara on. Once she sets it down, she turns to me. “Okay, back to my original idea then. It’s so much more fun if it is your three hot tattooed men.”
If I hadn’t just finished my own makeup, I’d put my face in my hands.
“Do you think we’ll see them tonight?”
I’ve never seen any of the guys at any party on campus.
Not a single time. Ezra is the only one even enrolled here and he sticks mostly to himself.
I’ve seen him have conversations with other students, more so than when we were in high school, but still.
This party would be out of their comfort zone.
Something entirely new for them. And yet, I have a feeling we might.
“Jude did say he wanted to see our costumes,” I ponder. We had talked briefly about it during the sleepover and the next day Summer had actually told them we were going as the twins from The Shining.
The reference went right over West and Ezra’s heads, but Jude said he had to see how they turned out. Even when they said bye that morning, it seemed as if they were planning on seeing us again soon.
Would it be too much to hope for?
Summer’s grin is practically feral as her eyes gleam with mischief. “We did tell them where we will be,” she adds. “Don’t you have at least one of their numbers?”
My nod is hesitant. “I have Ezra’s.”
I shouldn’t have admitted that. Her expression has morphed into dangerous territory. Dangerous for me.
“Text him,” she demands.
“No,” I argue. “I can’t do that.”
She reaches for my phone on my vanity, but knowing her as well as I do, I was already prepared for her to grab it and get there first. “Then give it to me,” she says, holding out her hand. “I’ll text him.”
“Absolutely not,” I respond, moving out of her reach and holding my phone close to my chest.
She rolls her eyes and huffs. “Come on,” she pleads, switching to puppy dog eyes. “One little text? A simple question. Just ask if they’re going.”
I’m already shaking my head, not meeting her eyes.
I’ve been known to cave to a good puppy dog expression and Summer is an expert at them.
“We’ve never texted like that,” I argue.
Not once. He’s had my number and has never used it to reach out and say hi.
Or make plans. We’ve only ever used it immediately after I gave it to him.
I am not going to be the one who changes that.
What if he doesn’t want to hear from me?
Or what if they had no plans of going and my texting him makes them feel like they have to?
No, nope. I’m not doing it.
“You’re overthinking it,” Summer sighs. “They’re into you.”
She can’t possibly know that and it’s diabolical to think all three of them could possibly be into me.
My phone vibrates in my hand and I scream, jumping and nearly dropping it in surprise. My heart races as I stare down to see who scared the shit out of me.
“No fucking way,” I whisper.
“What?” Summer yells, flying across the room as she launches herself at me. “Who is it?” she asks, grabbing the phone from my hand and squealing when she sees Ezra’s name on it.
I have to fight her for my phone back in order to read the message.
“What does it say?” she asks before I’ve even opened it. I shove her face away from mine.
“Will you chill?”
“No,” Summer deadpans. “The loves of my best friend’s life are texting her as we were talking about them.
It’s fate. Kismet.” She cocks her head to the side and looks around the room suspiciously.
“Or they really are your stalkers and they’re watching us argue about texting them and decided to put us both out of our misery and text you first.”
I snort at the absurdity of the idea and the way she says it so seriously as if it ever could be a real possibility we should consider. “He asked if we were still going to the party tonight.”
“Yes!” she yells, looking around my room and waiting as if something were going to happen. I roll my eyes before texting back and telling Ezra we are getting ready to leave.
It only takes a few moments before he texts back asking if he and the guys could pick us up?
“Told you they’re into you.” Summer smiles smugly. “Okay, close your eyes. I’m getting naked.”
My nose scrunches as I look at her in disbelief. “I’ve seen you naked a million times.”
She waves me off. “I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to your boyfriends and their cameras.”
Nope. Not going there. She doesn’t even deserve a response for her ridiculous antics. Ignoring her, I text Ezra back saying yes and double check my hair and makeup look okay. I’m more nervous about the dress and stockings now.
Will it really look okay?
Only one way to find out.