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)
I don’t know. I do know I shouldn’t care if he’s dating someone. I shouldn’t. But I do.
I care more than I’ve cared in a very, very long time.
I clear my throat and force myself to focus on anything but the way my best friend’s brown eyes look like melted chocolate underneath the fluorescent lights of this dingy basement and the corresponding sweetness some skanky girl may have spent Friday night swimming in.
“I wonder what tonight’s big event is going to be,” I say, trying to sound normal and participate in the conversation, like maybe it’ll keep me from spiraling.
Before anyone answers, Ace turns to me with a grin and bumps my shoulder. “Be right back, okay?”
“Okay, weirdo,” I say, playing my part even though my heart feels so heavy it’s sinking out of my chest. I don’t know why I don’t bring it up—it’s not like me to withhold my feelings from Ace. But this whole set of circumstances feels different.
Everything we’ve done for the last few weeks, everything that’s happened…I thought… I don’t know. It felt like we’d turned a corner.
And now we’re speeding blindly in reverse.
He peels away from the group, I assume to schmooze some people on the edge of the crowd. Or maybe he’s going to meet his new girlfriend at the door.
But then he heads to the stage in front. And grabs the microphone.
What is he doing?
Finn squints. “What the fuck?”
Ace’s voice cuts through the noise. “I’d like to welcome everyone here tonight. This is our first official Double C event of the year, and while I think we can all agree that our previous leader Lexi’s shoes are big ones to fill, I am fortunate enough to wear a size fourteen. Tighten your seat belts and check your zippers, motherfuckers. It’s going to be one hell of a wild year.”
And just like that, the world tilts a little sideways. Ace is the new Lexi. Ace—my Ace—is in charge of Double C. It’s arguably the most the dramatic realization of his very wettest dream to run our college’s secret society—to be the most recognizable, noteworthy student on campus.
And he didn’t bother to tell me.
There are cheers and whistles and some guy yells “President Acer!” like that’s a thing now, and all I can do is stand there and try not to let my face give me away.
I’m hurt. Not a scratch on the surface that heals quickly—a deep, throbbing wound.
He lied to me. Last night, today, and moments ago.
He lied.
Our lives—our friendship—are what they are because of a level of trust most people can’t comprehend. Because of truth-telling and bared exposure of all parts, weak, strong, wicked or otherwise.
As the world turns around us, we are the true north, we are the reset, we are the soul.
At least, I thought we were.
But by lying to me about last night, by hiding this—whether he was sworn to some secret code of something or not—he’s irrevocably changed the way we operate.
Everyone else is smiling. Everyone else is thrilled. And I’m standing here like an idiot trying to figure out why this hurts so much. I swallow hard, eyes fixed on the stage. An uninvited moisture blurs Ace’s image.
“You good, Jules?” Blake asks, his voice kind.
I turn to him and force a smile so hard it cramps my jaw. “Of course. Just surprised, you know?”
“You didn’t know about this?”
“Nope.” I shake my head, blinking fast. “Just found out right now…with everyone else.”
Scottie, thank God, chooses that moment to turn to me and ask if I want to go to the bathroom. I don’t hesitate. I grab the handles of her wheelchair like my life depends on it and steer us away from the noise.
We push through the crowd, past the halfhearted dance circle and the groups clumped together whispering about President Ace and finally make it to the hall near the bathrooms.
The second we’re alone, I let out ten pounds of air in one forced blow.
Scottie twists to look up at me. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say too quickly. “I needed a second. It’s loud in there.”
She nods, not pressing, and I’m grateful. We both go into the bathroom—her into the accessible stall, me into the one next to it—and I sit on the closed toilet lid and stare at the tile.
I’m mad. Not just at Ace but at myself too. Maybe even a little bit at the world.
I shouldn’t care this much. I shouldn’t be this bothered. But the truth is, deep down, I’ve been waiting on Ace Kelly for most of my life. I’m always the girl on his sidelines, forever waiting for him to notice me enough to put me first.
I’m tired of being the girl waiting around to be his only girl.
Point-blank, I’m tired of waiting.
I dig in my purse to find my phone, the ache of my bruised ego pulsing with unintentional reprisal. I scroll to Drew’s name, eager to make myself feel better any way I can, but before I can even start to type, a new message buzzes inside the thread.