Chapter 35 Easton #2
Her lips curl up into a smile. “And yet, here you are—stuck in a car with me. What does that say about you?”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t stop the corner of my mouth from lifting in a satisfied smirk. “That I have terrible taste in prom dates.”
She gasps, hand flying to her chest in mock offense. “Excuse me? I am a catch.”
“A catch with its claws out most of the time,” I shoot back, shaking my head. Still amused.
Enjoying myself at this turn of events.
“Better than being boring like Harper Conrad,” she hits back, a punch to the gut. “She’s the biggest freaking nerd.”
“Okay.” I take a breath, forcing myself to keep my voice steady. “That’s too far.” Harper didn’t ask to be involved in this mess; Harper is sweet and funny and—
Maddie cuts off my thoughts, her expression hardening into a deep frown. “How is that going too far? It’s not a crime to call someone a dork.”
“Harper isn’t a dork—can you stop being an asshole? Stop pretending.” I hold her gaze, not backing down now that I’ve found the courage to say my piece. “Be yourself for once.”
She stares, and I see her wanting to argue. Wanting to claw my eyes out, probably. And when she shakes her head and looks away, her fingers fidget with the pearly strap of her cell phone.
“Myself?” she whispers. “What if I don’t know who that is?”
The vulnerability in her voice cracks something inside me.
“What do you mean?” I push.
“I mean exactly that, Easton. I’ve been so busy being what everyone expects—queen of Instagram.
The perfect, pretty, blond daughter, because my mother has a stick up her ass and an obsession with making me a pageant princess.
” Maddie inhales and lets out a puff of air.
“She was runner-up for Miss America the year before she got pregnant with me, you know, and expects me to be her. Do what she couldn’t do, ya know?
Do you have any idea what that’s like? She expects me to come home tonight as prom queen.
” She tilts her head back, staring at the ceiling of Dan’s car.
She swallows. “What’s left when I’m not the version of me people see online? ”
Her words hang in the air, raw and unguarded.
Huh. I had no idea pageants were still a thing, or that she was involved in them. I thought she spent all her time online.
This is a side of Maddie I’ve never seen, and I’m not sure anyone else has, either—including her friends. Or mine.
“Maybe what’s left is someone worth knowing,” I say softly. “Someone real.”
“You are so clueless about how the world works.” She rolls her eyes, but it’s half-hearted. “Real doesn’t get likes on social media. Being fake does.”
Damn.
That is a cynical way to live. “Well, if that’s the case, I’m sorry for you.”
She sniffles and straightens her spine. Clears her throat again and looks at me, her gaze earnest. More sincere. As if she’s relieved we got all these harsh, truthful words and confessions out in the open.
“Ew. Don’t feel sorry for me.”
I laugh. “Sorry.”
“Ugh, I hate that I’m about to say this, but…” She pauses. “I owe you an apology.”
I blink. “For what?”
“For the way I asked you to prom,” she admits, her voice quiet. “Ambushing you in front of half the school was not fair. I didn’t think about how it might make you feel—or that you might want to say no. I wanted to look like a boss-ass bitch.”
I like this side of her; it’s refreshing.
“I almost choked on my fucking sandwich,” I tease. “It did kind of suck—but whatever. Thanks for apologizing.”
She nods, continuing to fiddle with the beads on her cell phone strap thingy. “Was there someone you were going to ask? Before I hijacked your plans?”
Her question hangs in the air. My chest tightens. Heart thumps. Pulse races.
“Yes, actually,” I admit. “There was.”
She doesn’t miss a beat. “Who? Harper?”
I hesitate, not wanting to say her name out loud. God forbid Maddie start making fun of Harper the way she was a few minutes ago, when she called her a—
“Yeah, Harper,” I confess, my cheeks heating up. “I was going to ask Harper to prom.”
“Oh shit.” Maddie’s hand goes to her mouth to cover her embarrassment. “I just called her a nerd.”
The look of horror on her face makes me laugh.
“You called her a nerd and a dork.”
Maddie sighs. “Ugh! I don’t actually think she’s a dork. I said that because I was being a bitch.” She gives her head a shake. “Okay, fine. I’m petty and a little jealous. You two looked so…” She waves her hand vaguely. “I don’t know—comfy and cozy together when I saw you decorating.”
I cough, choking on the spit in my mouth. She’s talking about the afternoon my glue exploded on my hand.
“Comfy and cozy is not how I would describe it.”
“You two were in your own little world. It was hard to miss.”
“It wasn’t like that,” I mumble under my breath. “Not exactly.”
“Please.” Maddie scoffs, leaning back in her seat. “Don’t try to downplay it. You were practically in her lap.”
I groan, running a hand down my face. “I wasn’t in her lap. It was glue. Literally.”
Maddie’s brows knit together. “Glue? What on earth are you talking about?”
I hesitate, knowing this is going to sound ridiculous no matter how I spin it. “I, uh, might have accidentally glued my hand to Harper’s, um, chest. I wasn’t in her lap—I was trying to get myself unstuck.”
Maddie stares at me for a heartbeat, face frozen in disbelief.
Then she bursts out laughing, clutching her stomach as tears gather in the corners of her eyes, no doubt threatening to ruin her mascara.
“Oh my god. You are seriously an idiot.”
“It was an accident!” I protest, my face burning. “The glue shot out of the tube and before I knew it, glue was everywhere.”
“You glued your hand to her chest? Jeez. I would kill you.” Maddie snorts. “No wonder you two seemed so close—you had your hand on her boob. I’m dying. This is the best thing I’ve heard all week.”
I cross my arms, trying to look annoyed, but her laughter is contagious, and I find myself roaring despite the embarrassment.
“Don’t tell anyone,” I beg. “Please.”
“Oh, I’m for sure telling people. Sorry,” she says, wiping her eyes. “This is fantastic gossip.”
After giggling a little longer, her laughter dies down and she looks across the car at me. Tilts her head.
Studies me.
“You know—I get it now.”
“Get what?” I ask somewhat warily.
“Why you like Harper,” Maddie states it simply. “She’s different, in a good way. She’s cute.”
Her unexpected admission catches me off guard, and I wonder if she’s going to drop a bomb or if she’s being nice to be nice.
My eyes narrow. “Thanks?”
She waves a hand dismissively, her smirk returning. “Don’t let my approval go to your head.”
Her approval? Now, there’s the Maddie Miller I know.
“Noted.” I chuckle. Then a thought occurs to me. “Hey. Know who you remind me of?”
“Blake Lively?”
“Good guess, but no—you remind me of my little sister, Phoebe. She’s a pain in the ass, too.”
Maddie narrows her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips tells me she’s not offended. “Gee. I’m assuming that if you have the nerve to compare me to a child, she is fabulous. You sure have a way with words, Easton.”
I bow my head. “It’s a gift.”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t respond right away, her expression shifting into something more thoughtful. She closes her eyes for a brief moment, then looks at me again, gazing deep into my eyes—my soul, it feels like.
“Seriously, Easton—what are you still doing here?”
“What does that mean?”
“I mean—why are you still sitting here with me?” Maddie asks, gesturing toward the sparkling lights in the distance, illuminating the entrance to the dance. “You need to march your ass in there and find your real date.”
“Maddie…”
She cuts me off with a raised hand. “No, don’t ‘Maddie’ me. Look, I understand you didn’t want to be a dick and dump me last minute. You agreed to go with me, and I appreciate that. But let’s be real—you’re not here for me. Not really.”
I open my mouth to challenge her, but she’s not wrong. She also does not let me argue.
“Harper is in there. If you like her as much as I think you do, then you need to march in there and snatch her up. Don’t waste the night sitting somewhere you’re not supposed to be.”
I let out a slow breath, her words sinking in. “You really think I should?”
“Do I think you should?” She mocks me, rolling her eyes toward the roof of the car. “Easton, if you don’t go in there and talk to her, I may do it myself. And trust me, you do not want me playing Cupid.”
“That sounds like it would be a nightmare.”
“Damn right I’m a nightmare.” She smirks. “Now go. And don’t worry about me tonight. I can handle myself.”
I hesitate, glancing at the gym, then back at her. “You sure?”
She waves me off, already reaching for her phone and sliding it into her purse. “I’ll be fine. Tyler Fisher owes me a slow dance because I caught him staring at my ass yesterday, and I plan to collect.”
I shake my head, opening my car door and stepping onto the pavement. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
“I do. Sorry, not sorry.” She unfolds herself from the car and tosses a wink over her shoulder. “Now quit stalling and go find your girl.”
Go find my girl.
My girl.
I watch my date strut toward the gym entrance as if she were on a runway during Paris Fashion Week, radiating confidence with every step, and for a moment, I realize that Maddie Miller is more real than she gives herself credit for.
She might be a pain in the ass, but she’s a pain in the ass with depth—and a hell of a lot more authenticity than she knows she has.
With a deep breath, I head toward the gym, heart pounding. Palms sweating.
This is it.
Time to find Harper.