me. “I got this one,” she said, and I gave her a look.
“You had a boiled egg. I had pancakes. You’re not paying for me.”
She waved the bill in front of my face. “Yeah, but you got pizza Sunday.”
“Because you helped me move.”
Reagan sighed, dropping her arm. “Shelby, come on. Just take the help. I asked you to breakfast—otherwise you never would have come out on your own.”
“Yeah, but I did. And that was my choice. And it was my choice to order the full breakfast, not just one pancake.” I grinned at her and dove for my ten, snatching it out of her loose grip. She relented, gathering her dance bag onto her shoulder and leading the way to the door.
We crossed the brick-lined street, and I froze.. Up ahead, Tate stood with a couple of friends, the vodka girl among them, leaning against Tate’s shoulder. Reagan tugged me onto the sidewalk as a horn beeped from somewhere over my shoulder. “What is it?” she asked, turning to face Tate and the girl. “Oh. Maybe they’re just friends?”
I swallowed. What a shitty morning this was turning out to be. “Yeah, maybe.” But I didn’t feel very comforted by that.
“Seriously, look at them more closely. She’s leaning on him. He doesn’t have his arm around her. He’s barely touching her.”
That was true. He didn’t seem all that into her. “I wish I could do that,” I whispered, the words slipping out before I had the good sense to stop them.
“Do what?” Reagan asked. “Wear a miniskirt? I’ve got a million you could borrow.”
She was trying to lighten the mood. But I didn’t feel very light. I felt heavy, weighed down by self-doubt and loss and all the potential failure lurking in my future. “It’s not the skirt. It’s… Well, she clearly knows what she wants. And she’s going for it with unapologetic abandon even though Tate’s not really reciprocating. She looks so free.” I blinked back the tears dancing at the edges of my lashes and turned to examine Reagan. “Like you. I’ve always admired how brave and free you are.”
Reagan’s face softened, melting into something melancholy. “Free,” she repeated. “We’re all bound by something, Shelbs.”
“Yeah, I guess. We’ve all got demons.”
She cleared her throat, and as quickly as the sadness had come on her, it was gone. “Real bravery is being in a show in front of hundreds of people.” She winked. “How about you audition for Singin’ in the Rain with me? Get Shelby Stevens back on the stage.”
I snorted. “Yeah, right. You’d have more luck getting me in one of those miniskirts of yours and to a club.”
“Done. No backsies. I’ll have you in a short, tight skirt before the year’s over. Just you wait.” She grinned, but her smile didn’t quite carry the same spark as it did earlier.
Just then, Harrison ran over from the parking lot. “What’s so funny?”
“We’re just talking about how sexy Reagan is.” I grinned.
His pupils dilated, his gaze sweeping over Reagan’s body before his eyebrows lowered. And not for the first time, I wondered if his feelings for her ran deeper than best friend level. “And how sexy Shelby is,” Reagan interjected.
As his attention shifted to me, his lip curled, and it almost looked like he was disgusted by the thought. “Oh…okay.”
Reagan rolled her eyes. “I know you two have that familial bond or whatever, but you should still be able to admit that she’s sexy.”
“She’s like my sister,” Harrison answered, giving Reagan a look. “I can’t comment on her sex appeal. It’s weird. And gross.”
“Hey,” I said, slapping his shoulder. “Gross is a bit extreme. Can we at least both admit that Reagan is sexy as hell?”
He licked his lips, briefly clearing his throat before studying the sidewalk as if that would hide the way his eyes lit when he looked at her. “Yeah, sure.”
With a sigh, she dropped her hand to her thigh. “I give up.” Spinning, she threw a wave over her shoulder, running off for the theatre building.
Harrison and I moved toward French. “I know we’re all best friends, but sometimes I just can’t keep up with you two.”
As we passed Tate, Harrison brushed my elbow with his in a comforting gesture.
“You don’t like him,” I said, and though I meant it to be a question, it came out more as a statement.
“And you do?” Harrison asked quietly, studying me through a side-eyed glance. I forced myself to look away from Tate as Harrison held the door