Chapter 23 Summer of Seventeen #2
The dots appeared to show he was typing, then disappeared. A minute later, they appeared again. I held my breath, hating how much I was hanging on his every word.
DarlingBoy: Did it work this time? ; )
I deflated a little, but I knew that wasn’t fair.
I couldn’t give him shit and expect him to take it forever, to be honest and open with me when I wasn’t doing the same in return.
Still, I wished he’d told me I was wrong, that it wasn’t a line, that he hadn’t used it on another girl.
I liked when he’d made me feel special, even if I couldn’t trust that it was real.
TheRealDollyBeckett: ur going 2 have 2 work harder this year, now that every girl knows ur a player. Or idk maybe text someone else n it’ll work on her.
DarlingBoy: this isn’t a booty call, dolly. I’m at football camp. Even if u were home, I’m not.
That gave me pause. Part of me thought he’d be gone all summer with Devlin, but then, Preston was only sixteen and his parents were more protective of him.
At least his mom was. My mind conjured an image of his dad holding the ends of the belt in one hand and Preston’s skinny shoulder in the other.
It was the look in Mr. Darling’s eyes that made me shiver even now, though.
That gleeful malice, like he couldn’t wait to whip the daylights out of his four-year-old son.
TheRealDollyBeckett: when do u get home?
DarlingBoy: next weekend. Can I see u?
His face as I’d last seen it flashed in my mind—his nose red, his lashes wet, his lips swollen from me riding his face so hard—and a throb of shivery excitement shimmered between my legs.
TheRealDollyBeckett: idk if that’s a good idea
DarlingBoy: it’s def not but I can’t help it. I have 2 c u. Don’t make me beg.
TheRealDollyBeckett: ha, you wouldn’t know how if u tried. Ur 2 used 2 girls begging 4 u
DarlingBoy: I’m done with that. Youll see. Things will be different this year.
I didn’t know how right he was until later.
It struck me at the end of our conversation that I hadn’t even asked about Devlin—that I hadn’t even thought to ask.
I’d only cared about Preston telling me I had it wrong, that he hadn’t slept with me and slipped out while I was sleeping like every other girl.
That I was special to him. Maybe some subconscious part of my mind was protecting me from the knowledge that I’d never been special to anyone else, including my boyfriend of four years, whom I also hadn’t heard from since the day we broke up.
I went home at the end of June. It took me a few days to settle in, get my dog back from my mom, and get used to being home.
Preston was still at football camp, but we texted daily.
A few of my friends were on vacation, and the others were busy.
The summer heat was like a furnace, and we didn’t have a pool, so I stayed in the AC, rattling around the empty house, like when I was a kid and I’d dance down the halls dreaming of being a ballerina.
I stopped in front of the mirror in the hall and touched the ballerina charm on the necklace Devlin had given me, back before his cousins had made it a whole lot less special by giving the same one to a half dozen of their conquests.
Something in my chest caved in on itself when I saw the beautiful diamond ballerina.
When Devlin gave it to me, it had seemed like the most romantic thing that would ever happen to me. Maybe it was.
The thought sent me into a gloom, and I took off the necklace and dropped it into my jewelry box. If I wanted to be ready for the next chapter, to move on like Destiny would, I had to let go of the tethers holding me to the past.
I went to my closet and started trying on clothes. I’d gotten a lot of new stuff in California, and I set up my phone and made a little video holding up each outfit and singing a silly song to make myself feel better.
My hair is blonde and my clothes are pink,
I got a truck and guess what, it’s pink
But that don’t mean that I don’t think
About climate change and global wars.
I did a little twirl and pulled a pink shawl around my shoulders, leaning into my phone to blow a kiss for the camera.
I also worry about my makeup and if I have clogged pores
This season for the Cardinals’ and the Bachelor
Then I wonder if it makes me a bad feminist
If I marry the first boy that I ever kissed.”
I posted it on my channel and then texted my friends.
One by one, I got excuses about why they couldn’t hang out, and it finally hit me.
Everything would be different this year.
That’s what Preston had said, but it hadn’t sunk in until now.
But everything had changed. I’d even predicted exactly how it would go for Lacey if she broke up the golden couple.
How had I not foreseen what would happen if I did?
Because I was part of it, that’s why. I’d done what was best for both of us, but that didn’t mean the town would like it.
That didn’t mean they were about to let me make my own decisions about it.
They wanted the golden couple, worshipped us.
Really, they worshipped Devlin, though. I’d been with him for so long I’d almost forgotten the feeling I’d carried with me throughout my entire childhood.
The feeling that I didn’t really fit, that I was lucky to be invited.
The way I’d always known without having to be told that I was popular not because I was liked, but because my friends were liked.
That’s why I’d always been the girl who was happy to be there.
Now, I had left the Darling fan parade. Not only that, but in the eyes of the town, I may as well have sabotaged the best float at the whole damn parade.
The golden couple had broken up, and it was my fault. I had dumped Devlin Darling, had disrespected their god. I’d been so busy licking my wounds I hadn’t even thought beyond the fact that the ladies who lunched would know about the breakup by now. I hadn’t realized I’d be the bad guy.
The messed up part was that I still loved Devlin.
Some part of me still hoped he’d come back, that he’d fight for me.
I was still waiting for him to realize he loved me, because surely someone couldn’t love her boyfriend that much if it was one-sided.
It wasn’t possible. He’d see that he’d had it good all those years, and he’d come back.
Right?
I could hardly go out in town the next month. When I went to my colorist, the two women sitting in the chairs beside me noticed who I was and started talking in hushed voices that weren’t nearly as quiet as they thought.
“That poor boy,” said one of the ladies. “Imagine spending four years on some ungrateful woman only to have her walk out on you.”
“Bless his heart,” said the second woman. “And you know if she’s that ungrateful for the world to see, it’s ten times worse behind closed doors.”
My face burned with shame, and I wished I didn’t have foils in my hair. I’d have walked out right then.
“Oh, and you know how the girls love him. He’s a real heart stopper, that one. He could have found a better girl from the start if you ask me,” the first woman said. “I mean, the nerve of her. Who does she think she is?”
“Sitting over there all high and mighty,” said the second one, casting a furtive glance my way. “Getting her hair did like nothing happened after wasting the best years of that boy’s life.”
I held my head high and bit my tongue. I wouldn’t stoop to their level, as much as I wanted to give them a piece of my mind.
I’d take the high road, like my mama taught me.
They didn’t deserve my attention, even as they kept on bemoaning poor Devlin with his broken heart and casting me as the villain.
My world was falling apart around me, but it was too much to ask for a little peace while getting my hair done.
I just wanted to feel a little better about myself.
No one ever gave me a hard time about getting my nails or hair done when I was feeling blue before.
Now, I had no right to feel blue.
At least no one had seen me with Preston.
That was the only thing I had to hold onto, and I knew I had to talk to him and make sure he understood that I couldn’t have something like that getting out.
He might be shamed a little, but I’d be positively crucified.
After all, he was one of the golden boys, too, and boys would be boys.
People would give him a hard time for a minute, but in the end, all the men in town would say, “Can you blame him? Look at her.”
It was different for girls. My friends were already distancing themselves, and now I understood why. They’d heard the gossip all summer. I was the last to know.
On the first day of senior year, I sat in front of the mirror giving myself a pep talk. My motto this year was “What would Destiny do?”
I would take risks. I would wear the hot pink leather miniskirt I’d never worn because it showed the dimples on my thighs when I sat down wrong. I would say fuck it to anyone who thought I wasn’t enough or was too much. I was the right amount for the right people. That’s what she’d always said.
I put my hair up high, slipped my feet into my highest heels, and marched into school like I didn’t give a hoot what a single one of them said about me.
Ever the optimist, I kept holding out hope. I’d told myself all summer that when school started, it would blow over. My friends wouldn’t hold it against me. It wasn’t like I’d slept with one of their boyfriends.
And maybe it would be okay. Devlin and I would get back together, and everyone would forget the little break we took the summer before senior year.
I stopped at my locker and started putting in my combination.
“Are those new nails?” Lacey asked from behind me. I turned to see her opening a locker a few down from mine, Carmen standing back, her thumb hooked into the strap of a new Gucci bag.