get people talking.”
“I don’t want people talking. I just want it to look like I’m doing fine on my own.”
“Comfort zone.”
“Stop saying that to me.”
“Remember, you can handle anything. You’re strong.”
“I don’t feel very strong.”
“Raine. You. Are. Strong.”
She gave me a quick, unexpected hug. “I’m proud of you, you know? Now, send me those pics so I can forward them to my cousin’s girlfriend.”
“Okay. And thanks. For everything.” Smiling, I navigated to my photo albums, bringing up the folder where I’d saved the images of the costumes I’d made. Selecting some of the best, I forwarded them to her.
Later, once she’d left, I decided to post another photo of the costume I was working on, arranging my sewing machine and supplies as artistically as possible. Once I’d done that, I flipped to the photo of me with Lena and was shocked to see that I already had some likes and comments, mostly from people I’d never spoken to in my life. People I went to school with. And the most shocking thing of all? They were all positive comments. I didn’t kid myself that it would stay that way, but it was a nice surprise.
My phone buzzed, and I checked the notifications that had popped up. I had a few new followers, and the username of one was @kingblackthorne. Tiny butterflies fluttered to life inside my belly, and I clicked on his profile.
On the outside, looking in, his life looked amazing. Photos of him holding up football trophies, posing with Kian and Xavier, posing with girls (I scrolled past those as quickly as possible), on the beach, even a photo of him from Fright Night with a group of masked guys. I tapped the image, then realised I’d added a heart reaction. Oops. I quickly removed it, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
He had.
The next minute, a message alert popped up, and I steeled myself as I hit the button to view it.
Carter: I saw that heart
I groaned.
Me: My finger slipped
Carter: Sure it did
Me: Scout’s honour
Carter: You weren’t a scout
Me: How do you know?
He didn’t answer me, instead changing the subject.
Carter: Whose car were you getting out of earlier?
Me: Were you spying on me?
Carter: Answer the question, Raine
Me: Dylan Rossiter’s
Carter: Who TF is that?
Me: He’s in drama club with me. He works on set design. I think he’s in your business studies class???
Carter: No idea who he is
The next moment, my phone lit up with an incoming video call. Shit. He was calling me on the app? I shrieked in fright and threw my phone. It hit the floor with a thud.
“Raine?”
I stared at the phone, lying face down on the floor. How had I managed to answer it when I was throwing it?
“Raine? Let me see your face.”
His voice was slightly muffled. I groaned, prodding my phone with my toe. Maybe I could pretend I wasn’t there.
Lena’s voice appeared in my mind, shouting “comfort zone!” So annoying. I swiped my phone from the floor and glanced at the screen, my stomach giving an involuntary flip at the sight of Carter’s face. From what I could see, he was lying on his bed, the navy fabric of his pillow behind his head. His hair was tousled, and his brows were pulled together in a frown.
“Tell me why you were in his car,” he commanded in a low tone.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” I began in a haughty tone, and his frown deepened. “My friend Dylan got me reinstated in the drama club, and he gave me a lift home afterwards. Because he’s nice, and that’s what friends do.”
His eyes darkened. “You don’t want nice.”
“We’re just friends, Carter.” I huffed in exasperation. Why was I even bothering to explain myself?
He ignored my comment. “You should’ve waited for me. I would have taken you home.”
I gaped at him. “Would you, though?”
“Raine.” His voice softened. “I thought we were—hold up. How exactly did he get you reinstated in the drama club?”
Those were details that Carter didn’t need to know. “You’re not the only one with influence at Alstone High,” I said instead.
I could’ve sworn he growled as he stared menacingly at me through the screen. “You’d better be telling the truth about just being friends with him. He wants you, Raine.”
Argh! He was so frustrating. “We are just friends. He doesn’t want me. Some people are capable of being friends without wanting more, you know. And how do you know that he wants me, which he doesn’t, by the way! You don’t even