Chapter 14 #2
“That’s cool,” I say gently. Her expression wavers, like she’s wondering if she said too much, but I’ve never cared who someone loves. “Love is love, right?”
“Thanks, Alysander,” she says, a big smile on her face as she places a hand lightly over mine.
We spend the rest of class mapping out our presentation and dividing up work. I take Gaga’s early life—her childhood in New York, her time at Tisch, everything leading up to The Fame. Rebecca takes the later albums, her foundation, and all her activism.
“Should we meet Saturday to finalize the slides?” I ask as class wraps up, copying our outline into my notebook. “After the game? There’s a lot to pull together before Monday.”
“But Saturday’s the Alpha Delts Heaven & Hell party. Aren’t you going?”
I school my face into neutrality.
“Right,” I say, summoning a smile that feels passable. “The party. Of course.”
I can’t believe it.
There’s an Alpha Delts party this weekend, and I didn’t even know. Hayes hasn’t said a single word to me about it. Was he ever planning to?
Or… was I just not invited?
Rebecca studies me, her expression sharpening. “Hayes didn’t tell you?”
“Of course he did,” I say, a little sharp, even though Rebecca isn’t the one I’m mad at.
Thirteen years of friendship, and I have to find out about his parties now from someone who barely knows him?
“I meant Sunday, obviously,” I say, forcing my voice calmer. “Let’s meet then.”
The rest of the week passes in a strange sort of limbo. I keep expecting to run into Hayes, maybe on campus or at his apartment when I stop by to see Argy, thinking he’ll act normal again and casually mention the party. But our paths never cross.
By Saturday night, I’m simmering with the kind of anger and frustration that has nowhere to go. The worst part is I can’t even call Hayes to yell about it without looking unhinged. The last time I saw him, I practically fled a restaurant in tears. Adding more drama isn’t going to fix anything.
I sit at the dinner table with my mom and Amber, keeping my head down and focusing on the food so I don’t say something to my sister I’ll regret.
Tonight’s meal feels like another gastrointestinal insult: Caesar salad without dressing or croutons, fake-meat meatballs over spaghetti squash instead of actual pasta, and a parade of steamed green vegetables, no sauce in sight. It’s a full spread of Amber’s clean-eating favorites.
If anyone had bothered to ask what I wanted, I’d have said fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Or maybe a greasy, cheese-loaded pepperoni pizza. Something that doesn’t taste like penance.
But of course, no one asked me.
“You look beautiful, honey,” Mom says, smiling at Amber who looks like some kind of goddess come to life. She’s still in her robe, but her hair’s already curled and pinned with crystal barrettes. Makeup dewy and flawless.
“Thanks, Mom,” Amber says sweetly, squeezing lemon into her seltzer.
Mom turns to me, eyeing my oversized hoodie and sweatpants with mild disapproval.
“When are you getting ready for Hayden’s party?” she asks. “I assume you’re not wearing that.”
“I’m not going.”
I stab a meatball and shovel it into my mouth, not even caring how disgusting it is. The last thing I want to talk about right now is Hayes.
“But Ambrosia said it’s a big costume party.” Mom blinks, clearly confused. “She said everyone would be there.”
Amber groans. “Mom, I told you—they’re not speaking.”
“Still?”
My fork slips from my hand and hits the floor with a loud, metallic clang. “Can you please stop talking about me like I’m not sitting right here?”
“Sorry, honey.” Mom winces and takes a long sip of her honey-lavender tea. “I’m just surprised. You and Hayden hardly ever fight.”
I push my plate away.
“We’re not fighting.”
“Sure seems like it,” Amber chirps, happily twirling her squash noodles like they’re actual pasta.
“Oh my God, shut up, Amber.”
“Alysander,” Mom says sternly. “Don’t speak to your sister that way.”
“But she’s antagonizing me on purpose,” I say. “Hayes and I are fine.”
Except we’re not.
For the first time in years, I genuinely don’t know where I stand with him. The silence between us no longer feels like just a pause. I’m starting to wonder if it might be an end.
“Did you say something to upset him?” Mom asks gently, her voice cautious.
I cross my arms, jaw tight.
“Mom, no.”
“Well, maybe—”
“Can you not?” I push my chair back, the legs scraping loudly against the floor. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fine,” she says, like I’m the one being difficult. “It would just be nice if you and your sister could get along for once. I love Hayden like he’s my own son, but it feels like he’s always coming between you two.”
“Oh, this isn’t Hayes’s fault,” Amber cuts in, all wide-eyed innocence. “He’s still talking to me. Ally’s the one he’s ignoring.”
“For the last time, we’re fine!” I yell.
They exchange a look—tight-lipped, patronizing, as if I’m being dramatic.
Maybe I am.
But I’ve hit my limit, and right now, it’s easier to blow up at them than at Hayes. At least they’re here. He’s not. To unload on him, he’d have to actually show up.
“Thanks for dinner,” I grit out. “Can I please be excused? I’ve lost my appetite.”
Mom nods, and I scrape my plate into the sink, rinse it, and shove it into the dishwasher. While they’re still whispering about me and distracted, I grab a few leftover sweet potato brownies off the counter and stuff them into my hoodie pocket.
Okay, so I lied about that too.
I’m still hungry, but I can’t sit at that table another second.
“She’s just so sensitive,” Amber says loud enough to make sure I hear as I walk past them. “You can’t even say his name without her losing it.”
Once I’m inside the safety of my bedroom, I throw on my headphones and crank my music until it drowns out everything else.
It’s not like I even care about stupid parties or staying in alone on a Saturday night, but it’s always been my decision.
Hayes has never purposely excluded me from anything before.
Well, maybe excluded isn’t the right word.
It’s not as if he banned me from the frat party or told me not to come. He just… didn’t invite me.
Maybe I’m reading too much into things. He’s under a lot of pressure. Maybe he just needs space. Except… why doesn’t he need space from Amber, too?
Sometime after 8 p.m., there’s a knock at my door. For once, Amber actually waits to be invited in, peeking her head through the crack like she expects to get it bitten off.
She’s fully dressed now in a tight white dress, matching thigh-high boots, fluffy wings, and a shiny halo headband. An angel costume. Irony at its finest.
I rip off my headphones.
“Get out.”
“Relax, okay?” She lifts her hands in surrender. “I come in peace.”
“What do you want, Ambrosia? To rub it in some more? I get it—you’re going to Hayes’s party. And I’m not.”
She ducks her head, surprisingly meek.
“I just… wanted to see if you wanted to come with me tonight.”
I stare at her, thrown. Did Mom bribe her with another gift card to guilt-trip me out of bed?
“Why? What’s in it for you?”
Amber rolls her eyes. “You really think I need a reason to do something nice?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“You’re my sister, Ally,” she says, almost sounding wounded. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t like seeing you upset?”
“No.”
I burrow deeper under my covers, pulling them up like a shield. Wishing—begging—for her to take the hint and leave.
She doesn’t.
“Why do you hate me so much? What did I do?” she asks quietly. “We used to be friends, remember?”
I glance over, ready to snap again—but then I see her expression. Her eyes are glassy. She blinks quickly, and I see she’s practically on the verge of tears.
“I don’t hate you, dummy.” I let out a frustrated breath. “I’m just… angry with Hayes.”
“I’m sorry you guys are fighting. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”
She nods, a flicker of relief crossing her face. It almost feels like we’re having a moment, like we’re real sisters again. Like we used to be.
“I didn’t tell him to pick me—he just did,” she adds with a little shrug. “You can’t be mad at me for that.”
The words hit like a gunshot.
Of course.
Even when she’s trying to be nice, she still has to win.
“Out!” I point at the door.
“Ally, come on. You know what I meant—”
I throw one of my balled-up socks, hitting her shoulder with absolutely zero force but maximum attitude.
“NOW.”
She stumbles back, then finally leaves, probably off to find Mom and play the victim again.
Time passes slowly.
I lie in bed, fists clenched, staring at the ceiling.
How did things get so tangled between me and Hayes? I’ve replayed it a hundred times and still can’t make sense of it. He’s at a party right now, surrounded by half of LHU’s campus. I’m the only person he’s avoiding.
How am I supposed to not take that personally?
It is personal.
Does Hayes really think he can just cut me out without any explanation, like I never mattered? Like all our years of friendship don’t earn me even a goodbye?
No.
He doesn’t get to do that.
He doesn’t get to treat me like one of his random hookups and just toss me aside. If nothing else, I deserve to know why he’s doing this. After everything we’ve been through, the very least he owes me is the truth.
And I’m going to get it.