The Backup Girlfriend (Grove Valley High #2) - Emma Doherty Page 0,48

front of me, focusing on breathing so I can pull it back together and not break down and start crying.

I can’t make this even worse by starting to cry.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Eventually, I start to feel my heartbeat return to normal, and I look around the kitchen, the state it’s in and the damage I’ve just done. I can’t believe the people I decided to tell all my most personal secrets to happen to be my ex’s new girlfriend and her best friend.

Freaking wonderful Abigail.

The ovens beep again, and I don’t know what to do. I know I should get the baked goods out before they start to burn so at least the last couple of hours haven’t been a complete waste of time, but I don’t even know where the oven mitts are kept.

I’m just considering taking off my apron and using that as makeshift mitts when the door swings open and Sophie comes back in.

She takes one look at the oven before turning to me. “Oven mitts are in that drawer over there,” she instructs, nodding to a drawer close to the oven.

“I shouldn’t have—”

“Quick,” she says, jerking her head toward the oven. “They’ll burn.”

Okay.

I do as she says, opening the oven and carefully pulling out the three trays of brownies that smell so good I want to devour them all before they’re even cut up.

Sophie immediately moves in behind me with the muffins and puts them in the oven, closing the door firmly. She looks around. There’s still some cleaning up to do. “Let’s cut up the brownies, add the icing sugar, and then continue cleaning up.”

“Sophie…” I let out a long sigh. I have no idea what to say to her. “I’m…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

She doesn’t even glance at me. “Forget about it. We have.”

I swallow hard. “I should go. I get that Livy probably doesn’t want me here after I said all that.”

“And leave me to deal with all this?”

I blink in surprise. “What?”

Sophie makes a face and pulls out a set of keys from her pocket. “It’s fine. Livy’s fine. She left me her keys. We just have to make sure we clean up and everything’s put back in place.”

I gape at her. I made Livy feel so bad she left?

“I didn’t mean to say any of that stuff. I didn’t mean to blame Livy for any of it.”

“I know,” Sophie tells me softly, stopping to look at me directly. “We both do.”

I blink rapidly, trying to push back the tears that are threatening to hit my eyes again. “Please don’t tell anyone,” I whisper. “I’ve never told anyone that stuff before. Not even Chase knows all of that.”

“We won’t breathe a word,” she tells me quietly, earnestly, and I believe her. “Not to anyone. Neither of us will.”

I nod, not knowing what else to do. I have no choice but to trust her on that.

We spend the next half hour working in pretty much silence, making sure the place is spotless, packing up the goods and carrying them out to my car, and waiting for the final batch of goodies to be done. Sophie blasts her music, sings along to a bunch of songs, and just generally acts like this is the most normal situation we could be in. I’m so grateful for it, so, so grateful.

We’re just waiting on the final muffins to cook when she turns to me. “We have rehearsals for the final pep rally this week, right?”

I nod. I don’t trust myself to speak.

She grins. “I think we should wear our uniforms that day.”

I manage to force a smile at that. We’ve never been one of those teams that wear their uniforms on game days, just when we’re actually at games, but I guess she’s getting nostalgic about everything coming to an end.

She turns back to look at the ovens, tapping away on her phone and whistling some tune I don’t know. She holds up her phone. “Do you like this dress? I’m trying to get my mom to buy it for me as a graduation present, but she says it’s indecent.”

I look at the picture of the scrap of material Sophie is calling a dress. It’s ultra-short, ultra-low-cut, and everything would be on display, but I’d bet a million dollars Sophie would look incredible in it. She has the figure to wear anything.

When I don’t answer, she puts the phone down, and I continue to stare at the ovens and the