Chapter 28 Easton #3
“You sure you’re good?” she asks again, her voice softer this time as she flips through a notebook. Her long hair falls over one shoulder, and the light streaming from the English classroom turns it to strands of silk.
She’s so cute. I’m a terrible person.
I hesitate, guilt twisting my gut like a knife.
Do I tell her?
Yes.
No.
I have to; I have no choice. Not when I know Marcus is going to blab to Macy, then Macy is gonna blab to Harper—and I’d rather she hear it from me. Anyway, I did nothing wrong. Not technically. Maddie is practically almost nearly my neighbor!
Consider it me helping out a needy classmate who happens to be the girl I’ve been crushing on since middle school.
Wait, had a crush on. Past tense.
FUCK MY LIFE!
If you did nothing wrong then why do you feel like shit?
“Why do you look like you’re about to confess to a murder or something?” Harper is studying my face, brow furrowing deeper the longer she looks at me. “What’s going on?”
I take a deep breath, grabbing a pencil pouch from the top shelf of my locker simply to occupy my fidgeting hands.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Okay.” She closes her notebook, giving me her full attention. “What is it?”
I swallow hard, staring into the abyss of my locker, wishing I could curl myself inside and disappear.
“So. It was no big deal, but…” Shit. “This morning, I drove Maddie to school.”
Harper’s expression freezes for several seconds. Then…it shifts. Her eyes lose their shine; her mouth begins to turn down the slightest bit.
Sad.
The noise in the hallway fades as she starts blinking rapidly.
“You drove Maddie to school?” Her voice holds a quiet tension that speaks volumes. “But you don’t have a car.”
“I know,” I say, instantly regretting the admission. I turn to face her fully. “I didn’t plan it; it just happened. She texted me this morning and needed a ride. Like—what was I supposed to do, right? I didn’t think—”
“That’s right. You didn’t think.” She cuts me off.
Harper is not looking at me anymore, her gaze drifting down the hall as if she wants to be anywhere but standing next to me, having this exchange.
“I’m sorry. I just—” I pause, trying to find the right words. “I was trying to be nice.”
“Nice,” she deadpans, unimpressed, because she knows I’m full of shit. We both know the real reason I drove Maddie to school: Curiosity. Allure. The crush.
“Yeah.” I toss the pencil pouch back into my locker. “I thought the ride would end better.”
“End better?” Harper scrunches up her face. “I don’t know what that means.”
“I honestly didn’t think it would turn out like it did.” You’re not making sense, Easton. Make this make sense to her. “It was awful.”
She exhales slowly, lips pressed into a thin line. “And you were expecting it to be magical and amazing?”
The sarcasm stings—but I deserve it. “I don’t know.”
She huffs out a laugh, shaking her head. “Figures.”
That stings more than the sarcasm. I try to come up with a response, but my mind goes blank, leaving me to watch in silence as she turns…
And walks away.
—
The first half of my day has been complete crap, my negative thoughts clinging to me like the sweat on my skin. Gym class was hell. Our teacher had me running drills because I wasn’t paying attention, so my legs feel like lead, and my lungs are burning.
By the time I make it to the lunchroom, I’m starving, exhausted, and in a mood so bad I’m surprised people don’t part the hallway to avoid me.
The cafeteria is loud, a chaotic mess of voices and clattering trays. Normally, I don’t mind it. But today it grates on my nerves, giving me a fucking headache.
The guys are already laughing at something Deshaun said, Gabe is slouched in his usual seat scarfing down a sandwich, and Marcus is predictably glued to Macy’s side, probably sharing food.
Their relationship might make me want to gag—but at least he saved me a seat.
I plop down.
“Dude,” Gabe says, glancing at me as I sit down. “Bro, what happened to you?”
“Prom stuff,” I say vaguely, shrugging it off to avoid questions about the reasons for my scowl.
“Uh-huh.” Deshaun leans over to get a closer look. “And I’m guessing Harper was part of that prom stuff? The two of you both seem in weird moods today.”
I look over my shoulder, and sure enough, she’s materialized out of nowhere.
Wordlessly, Harper seats herself at the opposite end of the table; I watch her organize her lunch. Container of fruit, sandwich, cookies—and a bite-sized candy bar. Neat. Orderly. In a pink container, of course.
“I’m officially done decorating.” She glowers in my direction.
Ouch. The words are meant for me, but I don’t react, bending my head to fixate on my lunch until Gabe reaches for my hair, plucking at the gel, which I only applied for Maddie.
I slap his hand away, agitated. “Stop touching me.”
He grins, but Macy isn’t laughing. She frowns, chewing on an apple as her gaze bounces between me and Harper like she’s watching a tennis match.
“You two good?” she asks, swallowing. “Loop me in.”
Harper stabs her food with unnecessary force. “Nothing. I’m great.”
I scoff, leaning back in my chair. “Yeah. Totally—never been better.”
“Uhhh…” Marcus finally looks up from his phone, brows raised. “What’s up with you guys?”
“Nothing,” I say at the same time Harper mutters, “Ask him.”
Great. Perfect. Just what I fucking needed—Harper making a thing out of this Maddie Miller situation in front of everyone because her feelings are hurt and we haven’t had time to hash it out in private.
God, I am a dumbass.
My food tastes like cardboard as I take my first few bites, tuning out my friends as they talk about nothing. The gym. Working out. Ordering our caps and gown. Shit like that.
“You coming with us?” Deshaun interrupts my thoughts.
I steal another glance down to the end of the table. Harper hasn’t said much at all since she sat down, quietly absorbed in eating her lunch.
“I’m down.” I have no idea what he’s referring to but agree to go, stuffing half a sandwich into my mouth.
Gabe grins. “Sweet.”
“We’ll get a good warmup in, some weight training, and maybe hit the treadmills at the end. Gotta stay fast for games.” Parker stretches, then flexes his biceps.
Then.
Then the worst possible thing happens.
From the corner of my eye I spot Maddie Miller walking toward our table, long legs striding assertively. Blond braids swinging. Cell phone clutched in her hand.
Determined look on her face.
She’s on a mission, and she’s heading toward me.
My stomach drops into my ass.
The cafeteria noise dims, my focus zeroing in on her like a heat-seeking missile, and I suddenly feel trapped.
Harper notices—of course she does—and her posture stiffens, her forkful of pineapple stilling midair.
I can feel the shift in her energy before Maddie stops right beside me at the table, a little too close, and smiles—a slow, calculated smile that sends my already ruined day plummeting to the pits of hell.
“Hey, Easton.”
I don’t like the way she says my name. Too smooth. Too sweet.
Harper sets her fork down with a dull clink, and I swear I feel the temperature drop.
“Oh my god, you guys! Hey,” she singsongs to the rest of the group. “I didn’t see you there.”
“ ’Sup,” Deshaun replies, stuffing his face with a frosted cupcake.
Maddie shifts her weight, her eyes darting from face to face around the table before locking on mine.
I can feel everyone waiting, collectively holding their breath. Even Harper’s head lifts a little, her attention on Maddie, glancing between us, her expression tight, mouth turned down in the biggest frown.
“Did you need something, Maddie?” Macy finally asks, the curiosity killing us all. “What brings you to our side of the cafeteria?”
Maddie bounces on her toes and claps her hand, braids jiggling. “You know how this morning on our ride, I told you I was waiting for someone decent to ask me to prom? Well.” She pauses dramatically, keeping us on pins and needles. “I’m giving you the opportunity to take me.”
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up,” Marcus whispers loud enough that the entire table can hear. “This cannot be happening right now.”
Oh, but it is happening—and it’s horrible.
My stomach twists at her arrogant words. She doesn’t even bother to let the offer sink in before continuing, arm extended in front of her so she can inspect her long fingernails.
“Forget that I said no when you asked me on a date; I see how hard you’ve been working on, like, decorations and giving so much of your time volunteering,” she says. “It’s cute. Like, super adorable. And I think if you’ve put that much work in, you deserve to reap the benefits. So…”
She smiles at me, and it’s like a hundred light bulbs flashing. “What do you think? Want to go to prom with someone who actually knows how to have a good time?”