CHAPTER 24
For the first time ever, I doubted Nellie’s strategizing.
She normally was a pro at it—thinking ten steps ahead, analyzing the moves and countermoves of every choice she made.
That was why, in most instances, she could always execute her plans flawlessly.
She might’ve given up on her life goal of being perfect, but her analyzing skills were close.
Which was why I was concerned.
“This seems like a really, really bad idea,” I told her on the way to Alderton-Du Ponte, sitting in the backseat of Beck’s convertible that wasn’t a convertible. “Almost as bad of an idea as keeping the top up.”
“And ruin your hair?” Nellie turned to look at me over the middle console. Her necklace glinted in the low sunlight, her dark hair spilling in ringlet curls over her shoulder. “As if.”
She’d come to my house three hours ago to “get ready,” but she’d shown up with her hair styled and her makeup done, and her sights had been set fully on me. She even brought a curling iron, but it’d been Mom who offered to curl my hair while Nellie did my makeup.
“Y’all are acting like I’m going to prom,” I’d muttered as Nellie settled on a chair in front of me, makeup brush ready.
Nellie had given my knee a squeeze. “Nah, just making you extra pretty for one last hurrah.”
One last hurrah, indeed. Jamie, he’d decided, would drive separately. Or so Nellie had said.
Beck held Nellie’s hand now, fingers curled firmly around hers. “A different time with the top down,” he promised me, eyes flicking up to mine in the rearview mirror. “As much as I’d love to see Nellie’s hair a mess again, it’s too beautiful now to screw up.”
“Thanks,” Nellie replied with a little eye roll, and Beck lifted their hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
“Tell me again,” I said to Nellie. “Why is it a good idea to stage our fake breakup at Alderton-Du Ponte’s fundraiser?”
“Alderton-Du Ponte is hosting its annual fundraiser for Rhythms of Hope tonight. Which means practically every member will turn out for it. Which also means word will spread that you and Jamie are breaking up in the library, and boom—clean break, everyone will see, fake relationship over.”
“And getting the attention of everyone is a good thing, how?”
Nellie turned to look at me again. “So that if Dalton ever tries to pull a ‘oh, they were faking it the whole time,’ everyone would’ve witnessed the real breakup. If you two broke up in secret, there’s more room for people to wonder if it was ever real in the first place.”
That made sense. Kind of. But the idea of staging a public breakup made my skin crawl. “What are we breaking up over?”
“You’ll say you’re just better off as friends. That there isn’t a spark—it’s just friendship you two feel.” Nellie sounded so confident. “It’s neutral, anticlimactic, and realistic. It’ll work.”
“I forgot how intense the people around here are,” Beck muttered, giving his head a shake. His eyes found mine again. “But I believe in you, Daisy. And I’ll jump in as comic relief if things get too awkward.”
Despite everything, I smiled. “Our hero.”
Beck winked.
We arrived at Alderton-Du Ponte quickly, and Beck pulled into the valet lane to let us climb out first. Instead of letting one of the valet workers park the car, Beck drove off toward the self-parking lot.
Nellie looped her arm through mine. She’d forced me into another pair of heels, which brought me up taller against her side. “Or, you know,” she began in a hushed voice. “You could just confess to Jamie and call this whole breakup thing off.”
I glanced around, making sure no one was in earshot. “Eleanor.”
“Sorry. I know.” She mimed zipping her lips shut, scrunching her nose. “Lips are sealed.”
I clung to Nellie a bit more than I should’ve, resisting the urge to dig my heels in and turn around. I could do this. For Jamie’s sake, I needed to.
The Rhythms of Hope fundraiser was one of the most important events Alderton-Du Ponte held every year, and the Rhythms of Hope charity sent its biggest figureheads to the event.
ADP raised money in honor of buying out the charity two years ago.
It was all very performative, if you asked me.
But Nellie was right—it would make for a good backdrop for a breakup.
The ballroom was full when Nellie and I stepped through the archway.
The buttery light of the giant chandelier overhead shone down on the marble flooring, making everything bright.
The glass ceilings also highlighted the sun, which had begun its slow descent.
A soft jazz quartet played near a makeshift stage along the back wall, their music barely audible over the layered hum of conversation.
I looked around nervously at all the expensive suits and gowns. “When you say you’ll bring everyone to the library…” I began, trailing off.
“The adults won’t care,” Nellie assured me, patting my wrist. “But Lydia, Raelynn, the other kids our age? I’ll make sure they’re there.”
Raelynn would cheer at our breakup, no doubt. Dalton, too, if he didn’t try to announce to everyone it was fake anyway.
“There’s Jamie,” Nellie murmured, jutting her chin out. “By the punch.”
I followed her gaze, but I wasn’t prepared for the pain to twist in my chest at the sight of him.
Jamie stood by a small snack table beside Raelynn, who spoke animatedly to him.
His hair was tousled as if he’d pulled his fingers through it.
Jamie hardly ever wore a suit jacket—in fact, it usually was the first thing to go when he got to ADP events, right before his tie—but he had one on now.
It was a deep olive green, lightweight, a shade lighter than his pants.
The top button on his jacket was fastened with the bottom undone, and his dark brown tie that matched the color of his hair was a bit too loose around his neck.
At least this time it wasn’t knotted like a leash.
I drew in a shaky breath, feeling something in my chest tug.
And when Jamie looked over, eyes finding me, I stopped breathing entirely.
With the ballroom stretching between us, Jamie’s eyes worked over me—slowly.
I allowed myself to pretend he was drinking in every inch of me, committing me to memory.
I could imagine what he saw: the pale pink dress that was probably supposed to fall above my knees, but since I was so short, the hemline came just underneath.
My red curls spilled over my shoulders, styled similarly to Nellie’s, only my hair was a little longer.
Jamie’s eyes on me, an almost physical pressure I could feel despite the distance.
He looks at you like he wants to write about you.
I pretended, for one last time, that it was true.
After murmuring something, Jamie stepped away from Raelynn, crossing the ballroom with his sights set on me. My pulse mirrored every step he took, thudding harder and harder the closer he got.
I can do this, I thought to myself, a new comforting mantra. I can do this.
Jamie stopped a foot from us, but now that he was closer, he only looked at his sister. “Where’s Beck?”
“Parking the car.” Nellie lowered her voice. “I’ve filled Daisy in.”
Right, filled me in on just how our breakup would go down. Jamie nodded, reaching up and scratching the top of his shoulder through his suit jacket. “It’d be too obvious to go now,” Jamie murmured. “Too soon. We should dance first.”
“Dance?” I’d never danced at one of the Alderton-Du Ponte events. Dancing here was vastly different than dancing at the club in Bayview. Far more awkward. “Oh, I-I’m good—”
Jamie swept up my hand, though.
The Alderton-Du Ponte ballroom looked different from the center, directly underneath the glistening chandelier.
I shuffled awkwardly in my heels as Jamie led me out, looking a little stiff himself.
We nestled into a pocket of space between Mr. and Mrs. Flannagan and Ms. Jennings dancing with someone else’s husband.
When she caught a glimpse of us, Ms. Jennings shot me a discreet grin.
I turned back to Jamie, uneasy. “I’ve never danced like this before in my life.”
“Me either.” Jamie’s left hand curved along my right, our palms slipping together in a way that sent a tingle down my arm. His right arm curved around me, palm pressing into the middle of my back, pressing me against him. “But we’ve got this.”
We’ve got this. Words we’d said to each other at the start of the whole fake relationship. It was somewhat fitting to say them at the end.
Jamie held me so easily, moving without hesitation, knowing his way around me as if he’d done it a million times. Or as if he’d thought about doing it a million times.
Stop, I scolded my thoughts. “Your tie is too loose,” I blurted, my left hand lifting to rest on Jamie’s shoulder.
“You’re not going to fix it this time?”
He was talking about Senior Night, when I’d grabbed him by the neck and had held him still. Back then, I’d noticed the serious way he’d stared me down, but had thought nothing of it. Now, the memory made a shiver slip down my spine. “You can tie a tie yourself.”
“Apparently I cannot.”
The jazz music was a bit more audible from where we danced, closer to the middle of the dance floor, away from the majority of the chatter. There were a few other couples dancing, but I let my eyes slip closed, pretending, just for a moment, it was the two of us. That it was real.
I wanted to tell Jamie that I’d gotten into NYU, but I couldn’t get my lips to part. Despite the fact that we were chest to chest, it felt like a chasm existed between us now, dark and deep and too scary to cross.
Jamie readjusted his hold on me, shifting his head forward, his lips closer to my ear. “Did you see Dalton?”
“He’s here?” I asked, barely interested.
“I saw him earlier.” Jamie’s hand shifted along my spine, the dress a thin barrier. “Have you talked to him since Wednesday?”
“No.” This time, I pulled back enough to look Jamie in the eye. “I’m done with him.”