sweetly.
As if she’s not a conniving snake.
Push her away. I want him to do it so badly.
But if there’s loathing underneath, Tyler hides it better than I ever could.
“Sure.”
Ugh. I force myself to head the other way.
I get that he has a reputation to uphold. What he did in rehearsal was enough of a risk without blowing off his entire crowd for me overnight, which would not only fuck the rest of my year but his too.
Rehearsal is canceled on account of senior prom, so I run through options for dealing with Carly.
I want the letter back, but unless I can get the help of Jenna or one of the minions, that probably won’t happen.
I can call her bluff, deny everything in the letter if it gets out. My dad’s lawyers can deal with the fallout.
I don’t like the idea of that. No matter how much is true, Carly’s right—family issues should be private, and I don’t want to learn what’s accurate and not in some tabloid.
The last option is that I can step back from the musical. My stomach flips just thinking about it.
It’s the most feasible but in some ways, the most gut wrenching.
It finally feels as if I have something of my own, somewhere I can belong. I’ve earned it, and I’m not ready to give it up.
I’m still grappling with it after school, pretending to study at the kitchen island when Haley breezes in wearing a black dress and boots, her dark hair pulled into a ponytail. “I’m off for the night.”
“Where to?”
“Work meeting.” She kneels down to nuzzle noses with Sophie, who’s in her bouncy chair.
Dad clears his throat, and Haley lifts a brow. “You want your nose rubbed too?”
“Not exactly.”
She plants a kiss on my dad that no child should ever see but pulls away a moment later and strides for the front door as if he might go after her if she waits too long.
Smart woman, my stepmom.
“I thought we could have a movie night,” Dad says when she’s gone.
I straighten. “Really?”
“Really. I’ll even get takeout. What do you want?”
“Ziti. We should ask Tyler if he wants something.”
The sound of the sliding door at my back has me smiling. “Hey, we were just going to...”
My jaw goes slack.
Tyler’s wearing a tux.
A fucking tux.
He looks handsome enough it steals my breath.
My first thought is that he wants to take me to prom, that he wants to tell my dad and say fuck it to the rest of the world.
Then I take in his expression.
The firm line of his mouth, the lack of sparkle behind his beautiful eyes, sends off alarm bells.
“I’m going to prom,” he answers, and my heart lifts for the first time all day.
“With who?” My dad’s voice is suspicious.
“Carly.”
No.
No, that’s impossible.
“No takeout for you, then.” Dad turns to me. “Can you watch Sophie while I pick up food?”
“Um, sure,” I manage.
Once the door closes after him, I whirl on Tyler. “You’re not going to prom with Carly.”
Tyler heads for the hallway, giving himself a critical once-over in the hall mirror.
Jealousy is a tidal wave ripping through my body as I bound after him.
Tyler ignores me, adjusting the cuffs of his black jacket. “I’m getting your letter back.”
My jaw hits the floor, both at the fact that he’s so calm and that he somehow decided this without me. “That’s insane. You really think she’ll give you the letter in exchange for being on your arm?”
I move behind him so he can see me in the mirror, too.
“I get that you’re prince of the school, but she won’t buy this. She knows you hate her.”
“She doesn’t know I hate her.” His gaze locks with mine. “Which, for once, I’m grateful for.”
“So, what, you’re going to pretend you actually like her?” Horror sets in as I realize the truth. “How are you going to do that? Dance with her? Kiss her? Fuck her?”
Each possibility is worse than the last. Each word slices me raw.
This feels wrong. The deepest wrong I’ve ever known.
It’s not only because I’m jealous—it’s because I know how much he loathes her. The fact that he’s actually considering letting her touch him, pretending he likes it—
“I have a plan.” I round to stand between him and the mirror, and he lifts a brow. “I’ll meet her tomorrow,” I rush on. “Talk to her, find something else she wants.”
“As much as fucking with you? Not likely. You threaten everything she is. You have everything she wants.”
“No, I don’t,” I say softly.
If you