My Know-It-All Nemesis - Maggie Dallen Page 0,25

“How exactly do you want to do this?”

“Do what?”

She turned back to me with arched brows. “Announce our candidacy. That’s the point of this, right?”

It was too hard not to laugh. I let out a huff as I crossed over to her. “The point of the party is to have fun.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right, I know, but—”

“No buts,” I said. “Everyone is here for a good time. That’s all. No one wants to hear our speeches—”

“Did you finish yours?” she asked.

I ignored her. No. I hadn’t finished. I hadn’t even begun. But I was certain that she’d not only finished—she’d likely already typed it up, made cue cards, and was halfway to having the speech memorized.

I shook off that thought—it would only prove to psyche me out. And I’d meant what I’d said. Tonight wasn’t about winning votes, it was about showing people a good time.

It was about showing Kate a good time.

And just like that, I was nervous.

Me. Miller Hardwell. I wasn’t even aware I could be nervous, especially not over a girl.

But here I stood, clammy palms and shaky breath as I tried to figure out what to say to bridge the great divide that had stood between me and Kate since my first day at school.

“So…” she said slowly, shifting and looking around again like this room with its bare bones furnishings was absolutely fascinating.

“So,” I repeated.

The fact that she was clearly uncomfortable, too, helped to put me at ease. After all, this wasn’t my first party, it was my house, and I was surrounded by friends.

I was in my element, and Kate…was not.

“Want a tour?” I asked.

Her eyes widened. “Um, yeah…okay, sure.”

That was how I ended up taking my arch-nemesis on a tour of my house and the grounds. I answered all her questions—and trust me when I say the girl had questions.

Endless amounts. About the upkeep, the interior decorations, the lawn…

If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought she was nervous to be alone with me.

“So, what do you think of your first party?” I asked when we were once again back by the pool, standing alone near the patio furniture but still part of the crowd.

I noticed that while everyone was quick to gawk at Kate and her new look, no one had come over to talk to her and make her feel welcome. For the first time ever, I got a whole new perspective on Kate and her role at Sweet Mountain High.

She was respected—revered, even—and everyone thought well of her.

But no one was really close to her.

Somehow that made me ache on her behalf.

Not that I’d ever show it—I knew better than anyone how unwelcome sympathy and pity could be. Half the reason I’d wanted to flee my old school was because of the gossip and whispers that had flared up in the wake of my dad’s not-so-secret affair.

“My first party,” she repeated beside me, her gaze moving over the different groups of students. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I guess I don’t really get the appeal.”

“Well, it would probably help if you were mingling with people you actually liked rather than standing on the sidelines with the guy you hate.”

She shot me a sidelong look, her lips twitching up at the corners with mirth. “I wouldn’t say hate.”

I laughed, trying not to notice the way her coy smile and the flickering lights from the strung lights made her more beautiful than ever. “What would you call it?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, turning back to the crowds. “If you’d asked me last week, I would have said ‘hate,’ probably.”

“What’s changed?”

She shot me another look. “Me, I guess.”

I arched my brows. “Why, Kate Andrews. One makeover, and you’re a whole new person? Softer, kinder…more forgiving?”

She smacked my arm. Hard.

“Ah, there’s the Kate I know and love.”

She snorted in disbelief at that, and being on firm footing once more had me falling back into my normal role around her.

“Don’t smirk at me like that,” she said. “You know I hate it.”

“Why do you think I always do it?” I shot back.

She rolled her eyes. After a heartbeat, she blurted out, “It’s not a makeover, it’s just Halloween.” Her gaze darted over in my direction. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Hey, I like the new look, but I also like the old look.” To my surprise, I realized I actually meant it. Her style was weird, sure, but it was so uniquely Kate. I glanced down pointedly to my suit, loving