“Yes, it does,” Gaige agrees, sticking his hand underneath Elodie’s pillow.
“It’s not that bad,” Elodie insists. “At least, if you really think about the bigger picture and purpose of it all.”
Gaige’s brows knit as he pulls out a red, hardcover notebook from underneath Elodie’s pillow. “What’s this?” He starts to open the book.
Elodie’s eyes widen. She snatches the book out of his hands, and then hugs it to her chest. “What the hell? That’s my diary, dude.”
“Really?” Gaige sits up, looking intrigued. “You don’t seem like a diary sort of girl.”
“It’s from when I was younger.” She stuffs the diary into her nightstand drawer, her cheeks flushed.
Gaige trades a questioning look with me, probably since Elodie rarely gets embarrassed.
I shrug, unsure what the big deal is, either.
“But, anyway.” Elodie slams the nightstand drawer shut. “As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted”—she casts a dirty glance at Gaige—“is that you”—she points at me—“need to promise to hear me out and consider my plan for more than two seconds. Because I’m pretty sure you’ll get onboard if you really consider it.”
“Okay, I will.” That doesn’t mean I’m agreeing to whatever she’s proposing. In fact, with how gleefully crazy she looks right now, I highly doubt she’s about to say anything rational.
“Good.” She claps her hands together. “Okay, so here’s what I’m thinking.” She zealously sits down on the bed, bouncing as her butt hits the mattress. Then, in classic, overdramatic Elodie style, she lets the silence drag out until Gaige loses his damn mind.
“Oh, my God, woman, will you just spit it out?” he gripes dramatically.
She pats his head. “Patience, my friend, patience.”
Gaige looks at me, annoyed. “I don’t know how you’re so sane after being her best friend for so long.”
“I sometimes wonder that, too.”
I duck as Elodie throws a pillow at my face.
“Bitch,” she teases, jutting out her lip. “That really hurt my feelings.”
“Sorry,” I apologize, knowing she’s not really upset.
“It’s fine. Just don’t do it again.” She wags her finger at me with a smile on her face.
I salute her. “Yes, ma’am, sir.”
“Ma’am, sir?” Her brows furrow. “What the hell does that mean?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I just didn’t want to say yes sir because you’re not a sir.”
“Oh, my God, will you please, please, please just tell us your plan already?” Gaige interrupts through a groan.
Elodie throws a discreet grin in my direction.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d guess she was dragging out the anticipation just to torture him.
Oh, wait, I do know better. She’s totally doing it to torture him.
“I guess I can, but only because you practically begged.” She pats his head again, which earns her a glare. Seeming pleased, she turns toward me, crosses her legs, and that infamous, troublemaking grin rises on her face. “My plan is to get Carter to fall in love with Ensley, and then she’ll break his heart.”
Five
Ensley
At first, I think I heard her wrong.
“Huh?” I blink, totally in shock.
“I said, my plan is to get Carter to fall in love with you, and then you’ll break his heart.” She speaks slowly, as if she thinks I’m slow. But I’m not the one who just suggested that I should make Carter fall in love with me.
“No,” I say when I realize she’s being serious.
She points a finger at me. “You said you’d think about it.”
“I don’t need to think about something that isn’t even possible.” I drop down in the leather lounge chair that’s across from her bed. “If you want to get back at Carter that way, you need to find a different girl. A much prettier one with big boobs and blonde hair.”
“Hey, there were brunettes in his fuck-chest, too,” Elodie points out, resting back on her elbows.
“What’s a fuck-chest?” Gaige looks so lost.
Elodie and I trade a look. Then Elodie turns to Gaige.
“A couple years ago, Ens and I snuck into Carter’s room to steal some weed from his stash. We ended up finding out he also keeps a little box full of old school snapshot photos of the girls he’s hooked up with.”
Gaige looks taken aback, which is saying a lot. “Like, naked photos?”
Elodie shakes her head. “Nah, they had their clothes on, and they totally knew he’d taken the photos since they’d written little messages at the bottom, like, something to remember me by. Or, whenever you look at this photo, remember the time you had the best sex of your life.” Her face twists in disgust. “One day, I overheard Carter and his friends talking about it. Apparently, some girl from Carter’s fan club started the whole gross tradition.”
“So, they know he has the photos?” Gaige asks, and Elodie nods. “Well, then I guess it’s not that bad.”
“It is bad. And gross. And completely feeds his already inflated ego. And it’s just one of the many reasons why we need to put Carter in his place.” Elodie’s eyes land on me, as if she’s waiting for me to agree to her ludicrous plan.
“Look, I understand Carter is an asshole and that he probably needs to be put in his place.” I stretch out on the chair and stare up at her glittery ceiling. “But I’m the last person in town—no, scratch that. I’m the last person in the world who could ever break Carter’s heart.”
“That’s completely not true,” Elodie says. “You could totally break any guy’s heart if you tried.”
“You have to say that because you’re my best friend,” I tell her, feeling very uncomfortable being the focus of the conversation.
Her brow quirks. “Have I ever sugarcoated the truth for you? Or anyone else for that matter?”
I waver. “No, not really.”
“Okay, then.” She acts like that’s the end of the argument, as if I’m suddenly going to realize I’m not an ugly duckling, but a swan.
“I still can’t do it,” I mumble.
She sighs and nudges Gaige in the side. “Gaige, tell her she can do it. That she’s pretty enough to catch Carter’s attention.”
Gaige studies me intently. “She’s pretty, for sure, but I’m not sure she could pull it off.”
Elodie lifts her hand to swat him, but he catches her arm.
“Not because she’s not pretty enough, but because she’s too nice. And sweet. And innocent.” He lets go of her arm. “You know Carter only goes for bitchy girls who put out.”
“I’m not that sweet.” I feel the need to defend myself.
“Okay …” Sarcasm drips from Gaige’s tone, and Elodie snickers.
“Hey,” I protest. “Just earlier today, you said your bitchiness was wearing off on me.”
“Clearly, not enough,” Elodie quips. “Or else, you’d be jumping at the chance to do this.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” I tell her. “It’s just that I know I can’t.”
“Sure you can,” Elodie tries to be encouraging. “You just need to believe you can.”
“This isn’t an afterschool special, El.” My gaze wanders to the oval mirror across from me. My long, brown hair is a wavy mess, my eyes are too big, my legs too long, and don’t even get me started on my freckles. “I know what I am.”
“No, you don’t.” She pauses. “Besides, if you do this, then maybe you can finally get over your crush on Carter.”
“How would this help?” I question, glancing at her.
“Because, after spending that much time with him, you’d realize how annoying dating him would be.” She takes out her phone and focuses on the screen, scrolling through something with that troublemaking grin on her face.
“You guys are so stubborn sometimes. It’s exhausting. And kind of boring.” Gaige sighs, then grabs an iPod off the nightstand
and busies himself with selecting a song.
“I already know Carter’s annoying,” I tell Elodie, sitting up and leaning over to see her phone. “What’re you doing?”
She shows me the screen. On it is a photo of a pink, glittery, short dress.
“Trying to figure out your new look.”
I shake my head. “I’m not dressing like a slutty princess just to get Carter’s attention.”
“We can find you a more edgy, slutty look.” She types new keywords into the search engine.
I look at Gaige for help. “Please, get her to drop this ridiculous plan that will never work.”
Usually, Gaige has my back. Today, he remains quiet for a squirrely amount of time.
“I don’t know. I kind of want to see Carter finally get put in his place,” Gaige finally says, turning on some music. “And this plan has potential.”
Seriously? Did they both get high today?
I’m about to grab the phone from Elodie’s hand, knowing it’ll earn me a head smack, when someone knocks on her door.
“What?” Elodie shouts over the music.
The door opens up, and Carter pops his head in. “You parked your car on my side of the garage again.”
Elodie doesn’t glance up from her phone. “It’s not your side of the garage just because you say it is.”
“I didn’t say it was.” Carter pushes the door open and leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed. “Dad did.”
Elodie shrugs, still not looking up at him. “Yeah, so? Dad’s never around, is he? And neither is Mom, so that kind of makes us in charge of ourselves. And as my own boss, I declare that I get to park my car on the left side of the garage so I don’t have to step in that stupid oil puddle your shitty car leaves on the ground.”
Carter narrows his eyes. “My car’s not shitty. It’s a classic.”
True. Carter’s car is pretty badass, but I’m not about to admit that.
“Yeah, a classic piece of shit.” Elodie snickers, and Gaige and I fight to stifle our laughter.
Carter notices, his eyes moving to me, and then to Gaige, before residing back on Elodie. His lips twitch in annoyance.
“Laugh all you want, but it’s a badass car,” he says. “And one day I’ll prove it.”
“Well, good for you,” Elodie snickers. “But I’m still not moving my car until those old puddles are gone.”
“It’s not my fucking job. It’s the cleaning person’s,” he says. “Seriously, how fucking hard is it to follow instructions?”
Is that a direct jab at me? Carter knows my mom cleans his house, so it must be.
My heart pounds in my chest, and my hands curl into fists as foul words burn on the tip of my tongue. Sure, Carter has always been a douche, but he’s never insulted my mom before.
My mom is the only family I have. She works her ass off to put food on the table and make sure I have a roof over my head. She doesn’t deserve to be insulted by some rich, privileged, small-brained asshole who hasn’t worked for anything.
I want to tell Carter all of this, but knowing he could get my mother fired, I bite the words back.
Elodie steps up, though, like she always does, throwing her shoe at Carter. It nearly hits him in the head, the heel skimming his cheek.
“Get the hell out of my room, you dickless, little weenie!” she shouts, springing to her feet.
Carter opens his mouth, to say who knows what, but Elodie shoves him out of the doorway and slams the door in his face.
“I’m so sorry, Ens,” she apologizes, her eyes flooded with remorse.
“It’s okay.” I give a shrug. “It’s not your fault he’s an asshole.”
“I know, but I’m the reason you have to be around that asshole.” She crosses the room toward me.
“Yeah, so? It’s worth it.” I pause. “I mean, it’s not every day I get a friend who will call their brother a dickless, little weenie just to defend my honor.”
“It was the first thing that popped into my mind,” she explains with a shrug.
Gaige chuckles. “Well, at least you’re creative.”
Elodie smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
She’s worried I’m mad at her. I’m not. I’m pissed off at Carter and kind of pissed off at myself for having a crush on him. Seriously, there are tons of good-looking guys in this town and I had to pick him? Then again, I’m one of the many idiots who share the same problem. A problem that needs to come to an end.
“If you really think I can do it, then I’ll try,” I say, shocking the crap out of myself.
Elodie’s eyes widen. “Are you fucking serious?”
I shrug. “I’m being serious, but that doesn’t mean I believe the plan will actually work.”
“Oh, it’ll work,” she insists. “We just need to play our cards right. And you need to trust me.”
“I always do,” I tell her.
It’s the truth, too. I’ve trusted her since she saved my ass that day on the playground.
“Good.” She gives me that look that means there’s a good chance that, at the end of this, we could very well be in trouble. But that’s generally the case with her plans. “Now, here’s what we’re going to do...”
Six
Ensley
Elodie’s plan sounds simple in theory. The first part does, anyway.
For a couple of days, she wants to spy on Carter and get a feel for his daily routine. That part doesn’t sound too terrible. But then she tacks on, “And then I’ll start teaching you how to channel your inner flirting goddess,” and it feels like I’m going to vomit.
Me flirt? Ha! Yeah, right. Convincing her of any of this is impossible. So, by the time I get ready to leave, I’ve somehow agreed to let her and Gaige start “training me” to become the girl who’s going to break Carter’s heart.
As I leave her bedroom to go meet my mom in the driveway, I hear voices carrying up the stairs from the foyer. Voices I recognize.
Oh, yippee. Carter’s downstairs with one of his friends.
Hoping to avoid him, I take my sweet time lollygagging down the winding staircase. Unfortunately, I don’t move slowly enough.
“No, it’s the best idea ever,” Holden is telling Carter, waving his hands around in the air animatedly. “The end of high school should be celebrated with a party. Just like Christmas, the Fourth of July, and Fridays.”
“The end of high school isn’t a holiday,” Carter says, sounding tense.
“Heck yeah, it is,” Holden insists. “We’re done with school, man. Forever. Which is even bigger than a holiday.”
“We’re not done with school.” Carter stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans, frowning. “At least, I’m not. I still have four years, plus grad school.”
“You don’t have to go to grad school, dude,” Holden says. “Or college, for that matter. It’s a choice. One I’m choosing not to do for at least another year.”
“Yeah, well, not everyone’s that lucky,” Carter mumbles, seeming in a really bad mood.
“You’re in a pissy mood today,” Holden notes, confirming my previous assumption. “And you know what might cheer you up? Letting me plan the end of school party you’re going to throw. We can have it next Friday while your parents are out of town and have it strictly as invite only.”
Carter shakes his head, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Every time I let you throw a party at my house, the cops end up getting called.”
“Yeah? So what?” Holden says. “They never actually do anything to you.”
“They tell my parents,” Carter stresses, raking his fingers through his hair. “Particularly my dad, who’s not a fan of getting a call from the police. And while I’m all for pissing my parents off sometimes, I’d rather not deal with my dad’s shit right now.”
“Come on, Car; we need to do this,” Holden pleads with his hands clasped in front of him. “For the greater good of the partying population of Fareland.”
&nbs
p; “God, you’re so overdramatic.” He blows out an exasperated breath. “Seriously, between you and El, I’ve reached my drama queen overload for the day.”
He rolls his eyes. “Like you’re one to talk. You’ve seriously been pissy all day.”
“I’ve had a lot of things on my mind,” he says with a shrug.
“How is that possible?” Holden questions. “We just graduated. You should feel less stressed.”
Carter just shakes his head. “It’s not that simple for me.”
Holden gets a wicked glint in his eyes. “Wait. Are you still pissed off over that chick blowing you off last weekend? Is that why you’ve been in such a bad mood all week?”
“She didn’t blow me off,” Carter says with an eye roll. “No girl ever has.”
Now, I’m the one to roll my eyes. Too bad it’s at the precise moment they both notice me heading down the stairs.
“I think Ensley thinks you’re full of bullshit, Carter,” Holden muses when he catches me mid eye roll.
Carter eyes me over, causing my heart rate to go through the damn domed roof. Then his gaze lands on Holden, his lips quirking. “You think so?”
Holden gives a head nod. “She was rolling her eyes at you, man.”
I inch my way farther down the stairway, deliberating how crazy I’d look if I sprinted for the door. An amused Carter is never a good thing.
“Maybe we should test out that theory.” Carter looks at me, the smirk playing at his lips making my stomach ravel in knots. “So, as I’m sure you just heard, I’m throwing a party next Friday.”
Holden fist pumps the air. “Ha! You just agreed. And I call no takebacks.”
Carter doesn’t even so much as cast a glance in Holden’s direction, even when Holden starts doing some sort of dance that looks like a combination of twerking and the chicken dance.
I almost smile. The dude may be hot, but he can’t dance for shit.
Then, any amount of humor rising inside me goes poof as Carter takes a step toward me.
“Normally, I don’t bring dates to parties because I like to keep my options open,” Carter continues with his eyes fixed on me. “But I’m thinking of mixing things up a bit and asking someone to go with me. You know, see if the grass is really greener on the other side. Because personally, I’m not buying into all this dating is better than hooking up bullshit.”