Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
“Oh shit,” Scottie mutters.
“I know.” I sigh. “But in my defense, I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for Ace.”
“Wait…you’ve been secretly pining for him all this time?”
I sigh again. “Cat’s outta the bag.”
They both go quiet.
“Everything just got so…complicated. And now I think I messed everything up.”
“Does Drew know you have feelings for Ace?”
“I don’t think that matters because I broke up with him last night.”
Kayla lets out a low whistle. “Damn, girl. No wonder you texted us.”
“Do you want to be with Ace?” Scottie asks.
“Yes. But mostly, I want my best friend back.”
“You do know that Ace isn’t dating anyone, right?” Scottie adds.
I blink. “Oh, come on. I saw him with Scarlett last night.”
Scottie snorts. “Last night? Seriously? The only person Ace went home with last night was himself. I was there. Hell, I haven’t seen Ace with anyone since, like, early June, Jules. And I’m pretty sure Scarlett went home with Seth Maddox.”
Kayla groans. “Who is, like, stupid hot but also a total sleaze. So I guess they’re kind of perfect together.”
I stare at them.
I mean…really stare.
Because somehow, I’d convinced myself that Ace left the party and went straight to bed with Scarlett. I saw them together, so it must’ve meant something. But now I’m realizing that might’ve been…fear. Insecurity. Projection.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, voice catching in my throat. “I know Ace didn’t handle shit well, but I think I’ve been a bit of an asshole.”
“No,” Kayla says immediately, reaching for my hand. “You’ve been confused. And scared. And trying to protect yourself. That doesn’t make you an asshole. I mean, we’ve all seen the ladies’ man that Ace Kelly has been since he set foot on campus freshman year.”
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “But I still hurt him. And I didn’t mean to.”
Scottie nudges a plate of fries toward me. “Eat something before we get deep into this emotional spiral. You’re going to need the carbs.”
I smile faintly and take one, but the moment’s already slipping. My thoughts are spiraling fast.
I’m back in that hospital room. Ace kissing my forehead and carrying me in his arms.
I’m back at the Beckley Theater, watching him laugh with someone else while I fall apart inside.
“I don’t know if I can fix it,” I murmur.
Kayla squeezes my hand. “You can.”
“Trust me, Julia, you can,” Scottie says. “Ace loves you. To the point of madness. You just need to tell him how you feel.”
“Oh! You should do it tonight! At the Gamma Pi Halloween party they moved because they were fucking scared everyone was going to the Double C thing last night!” Kayla exclaims, and they launch into a conversation about the party—apparently someone’s older cousin is DJing and there’s a rumored confetti cannon—but I barely hear them.
Because I’m stuck on one and only one thing—how can I get my best friend back?
We split the check and say our goodbyes outside Zip’s, but I linger for a second on the sidewalk after Scottie and Kayla disappear around the corner, both already talking about outfits for the party tonight.
I should go home. Do laundry. Wallow.
Instead, I pull out my phone and text the one and only person I want to talk to right now.
Me: Are you busy?
Her reply comes two seconds later.
Mom: Currently in the city. Crashing one of Cassie’s photo shoots in Central Park. She’s taking photos of Theo Damon.
Mom: Wait. Is something wrong?
Me: No, but I think I’ll swing by to see you. Is that okay?
Mom: Julia, sweetheart, of course that’s okay. We’re at the Mall. It’s shut down for the shoot.
I shove my phone in my purse and head to the nearest subway stop. And I have to ride the train for six stops before I reach Central Park. By the time I’m back on the sidewalk and in the rush of people, it only takes me another ten minutes or so to reach the park’s famous entrance.
It’s surreal walking through the closed-off stretch of Central Park. The Mall looks like a movie set, all curated lighting and fashion chaos. There’s a makeup tent. Stylists with clipboards. Cameras on dollies. Security.
And there, right in the middle of it all, is my mom holding a cup of coffee and chatting animatedly with someone holding a reflector.
When she spots me, her brows furrow, and she waves me over immediately.
“Julia? What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I say when I reach her, and she sets the coffee down on the bench.
“Honey. I wasn’t born yesterday. I can tell something’s wrong.”
“Am I that obvious?”
“Well, my very independent college girl who sometimes forgets to call and text me back tracked me down in the middle of Central Park…” She eyes me knowingly. “I think it’s safe to say something’s going on.”
I let out a deep exhale. “Mom, I think I messed everything up.”
Her face softens. “Messed what up?”