Chapter Seventeen
Flora
The second I get home, I call Madison. “You’re never going to believe this.” I chuck my purse on the floor and flop onto my bed. “I was on a date with Sean!”
There’s a short pause, then, “Sean? Sean Foster? What were you thinking?”
Instant rage.
“We were going over the history project, and I asked him to grab a bite. It was nothing.”
“Right.”
I sigh, pressing my eyes shut. “But it was fun.”
“Honey, no. You need to stop this. I’m getting bad vibes. Don’t tell me you still have feelings for that guy.”
“I don’t know, but—” I hesitate, then blurt it out. “He might still be into me. He looks at me like . . . like he wants me but won’t let himself.”
She scoffs. “No, you want him. Sean’s the tiger from Life of Pi. Richard Parker, was it? You’re seeing your own emotions reflected back at you.”
“There were clues all over the place. He ate everything off my plate when I couldn’t finish. That has to mean something.”
“Sure,” she agrees. “It means he was hungry and has no boundaries. Get a golden retriever if that’s what you’re looking for.”
“But we’re history partners. We have to spend time together.”
“Keep it professional. Have you forgotten how you were after the breakup?” Madison’s voice rises through the phone. “Look, I don’t do sweet and useless like Carmen, but I don’t want you crying over him again. Tears are boring.”
Those first few weeks—sleepless nights, tears on the pillow, the gut-punch rejection when he acted like we’d meant nothing.
How is it so easy for him? How does he just move on while I’m stuck here, unraveling?
My throat tightens. “You don’t understand what it’s like being around him.
Half of me wants to drag him to the bathroom and kiss him senseless, and half of me wants to stab him with my chopsticks.
I might even be subconsciously trying to seduce him. I want him to fall for me again.”
Madison lets out a sharp exhale. “Why in the world would you want that? He’s a shitty boyfriend who’ll bolt the next time you have a fight.”
She’s right, of course. But then, out of nowhere, a completely unhinged thought forms in my head. I run my fingers through my hair, pressing against my scalp like I can massage the logic back into me. “Maybe I can get him to fall for me . . . so I can dump him.”
Madison falls silent. Every second drips with judgment. “You already dumped him the first time. Why do it again?”
“I said it in the heat of the moment, but I didn’t mean it. He was the one who wanted to break up. I’ll never get over him unless he understands how it feels to be left behind.” The thought sparks, catching fire.
He needs to know what it’s like to lose me. He needs to feel it, deep in his bones, the way I did. Sean thinks he can stand up and leave like I was some passing phase? No. He can’t escape me. I’m back—vengeful and even more powerful in the sequel.
“I already know how it’s all going to play out. Your plan backfires, and I spend the rest of the year listening to you wail about it.”
“Please, I need this. To gain my power back. It’s the only way to stop feeling like I lost.”
“Or, hear me out, you could move on like a normal person. Go to therapy—”
“Madison.”
She mutters something unintelligible. “You’re insane. Getting revenge is something only I’d do.”
“That’s why I need your wisdom on the art of revenge! Teach me your ways, senpai.”
Madison doesn’t speak. I can almost hear the gears churning in her head, coughing up evil schemes. After an eternity, she sighs. “This is a terrible idea.”
A pause.
Then, grudgingly, “But as your best friend, I’ll support every single one of your terrible ideas.”
* * *
Madison’s first action plan is a group date.
Our cover is the newly opened ice-cream parlor a block from school.
We must check it out and see how it stacks up against our old favorite, Amber’s.
We tell the guys Carmen is writing a review for the school newsletter and needs extra opinions.
(Not that we share our real motives with Carmen, for obvious reasons.)
The moment we step inside, we’re greeted with the warm scent of freshly made cones. The place is all soft peach-colored sofas and floral cushions on one side, stiff-backed chairs on the other. It’s cute, but trying a little too hard.
Sean falls in step beside me, waiting for me to pick a seat. I sink into a sofa.
“I have an idea for the school newsletter.” Jake plops down next to me before Carmen can even sit. “You should interview me, Carmesan.” He snags the menu from under my hands. Sean grabs another from the counter and takes the seat across from me, sliding it across the table.
“They canceled the Student Spotlight column ages ago,” Madison replies in her signature authoritative tone, even though Carmen is the editor-in-chief. “Otherwise I would’ve had my feature already.”
“No, not an article on me per se. People know I’ve been voted Most Gorgeous three years straight and I’m the best small forward this town has ever seen.” Jake rakes a hand through his hair, as if mesmerized by his own achievements.
“Are we sure the votes weren’t rigged?” I cut in. “I didn’t vote for you once.”
Jake grins good-naturedly. “We all know who you voted for, Ms. Morgan.”
Sean flips through the menu, suddenly very interested in his options. Jake continues, “I meant using the platform to share my beliefs. Something like, how to get laid as a gentleman.”
I snort. “What does that even mean? You hold the door open for her when you’re done having sex?”
“It means embracing your sexuality.” Jake spreads his arms like he’s delivering a TED Talk.
“I’m all for sex positivity. Mutual consent, open communication, supporting fluidity, whatever you’re into—some might say I’m an advocate for healthy relationships.
I don’t see why people have to be so judgy. Flora, you get it, right?”
I choke on my water. “What? I don’t go around having casual sex!”
“No, but you strike me as a progressive thinker.” He steeples his fingers together, forming a mock-thoughtful triangle. “Write it like a guidebook, Carmen. Rule one: choose your partner with caution. Rule two: acknowledge women are sexual beings—”
Madison scoffs. There are no vegan options here, and she’s stuck with a glass of soda water. “We’re a school paper, not a BuzzFeed quiz called ‘What Kind of Walking Red Flag Are You?’”
“That’s, uh, an idea,” Carmen says. “But I don’t think it’ll make it past the admin. They’re never going to endorse it.”
Jake shakes his head. “This is why nobody reads the school newspaper.”
“Sadly, the average mortals simply aren’t ready for your wisdom,” Sean says, not looking up, as if he’s heard Jake’s pitch a thousand times. Which he probably has.
“Thank you.” Jake presses his palms together and bows his head solemnly. “It’s rare to be recognized by one’s peers.”
“I have an idea,” I say. “How about a college admissions guide? And maybe alternatives, like taking a gap year—”
“Think about it, Carmesan,” Jake says. “My message is important. If we shame girls for being open to sex, then we’re cock-blocking ourselves.”
Carmen laughs, and even though Madison rolls her eyes, he gets her attention. I shut my mouth. My idea is lousy anyway. This is senior year. Everyone already knows where they’re applying and what they want to do.
“You were saying?”
Sean’s voice blocks out everything else. Jake is still rambling about his rules, but Sean and me, we’re in our own little world.
“Nah, it’s stupid.” I glance away. “Are you ready to order?”
“What do you want to do after high school?”
Attend a New York City school, land an internship, and become a fashion editor.
But I don’t say that because it sounds frivolous; at least, compared to the kinds of dreams that get taken seriously around here.
It’s not helping patients or changing the world with engineering—it’s talking about people looking pretty and stylish. “I’m still considering my options.”
We order our smoothies and sundaes. When they arrive, ice cream is running down the side of my glass.
Sean gets up and returns with napkins for everyone.
“Thanks.” I nod toward his glass. “How’s your citrus smoothie?”
“Not bad.”
“Want to try mine?”
“No, thank you.”
“Come on, one bite. I’m great at ordering desserts.” I scoop up a massive spoonful of ice cream and top it off with a blueberry.
Sean reaches for the spoon, but I dodge, holding it out of reach. A challenge.
Neither of us moves. My eyes narrow. His stay locked on mine. A second later, he leans in, lips brushing the edge of the spoon as he takes the bite.
“I like it,” he says, still looking at me.
“Knew you’d give in eventually.”
Beside me, Madison says, “Let’s all go see a movie later.” She’s extending this date for my sake, and she goes as far as suggesting a horror film, which she normally hates.
“I thought you only watched movies with subtitles,” Jake says.
“I feel like watching a scary movie today,” Madison says. It’s an excuse for me to grab onto Sean. “I’ll cover your eyes when the scary parts come on. Like when the blond jock gets killed in the first five minutes, mid-hookup.”
“Unless the prom queen beats him to the punch and dies first,” Jake dishes back.
Sean clears his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I have to catch up on homework and be home for dinner.”
“God, you’re such a good kid,” Jake says. “Do you say thank you to your homework too?”
“Always,” Sean says. “Anyway, I can’t go. You guys have fun.”
Madison and I exchange a look, and she shrugs. Nothing throws her off. “That’s okay. Hey, can we stop by your place real quick? Lindsey wants to burrow my curling iron, and I have it right here.” She taps the strap of her backpack.
“I can give it to her for you,” Sean says.
Madison tilts her head. “And you’re going to show her how to use it too?”
* * *