ballroom and pulls out a flask. We are pressed up against each other, hiding from the adult chaperones. Laughing. I take a swig of warm, expensive whiskey. “You’re nicer than you look,” I say to Jake.
He scoffs at me, taking offense. “Georgie, I am so nice. And thoughtful. And charming. You had your mind made up about me from day one. I didn’t stand a chance.” He takes a drink and puts his hand on my hip. I reflexively shove it away.
“See?” he says.
“Jake . . .” I trail off, unsure of what I want from him.
“Here’s the deal, gorgeous,” he says, pulling the hotel key card from his pocket. “I have a room here—penthouse, actually. My parents don’t want me to drive home. I’m not expecting anything, but if you wanted some time alone . . .” He takes the flask out of my hand and replaces it with the key card. “I think this could be a really special night.”
“You only want me because you can’t have me,” I blurt out.
“Truth comes out at homecoming,” he says, then takes a drink.
“Truth comes out with expensive whiskey,” I say, taking another drink myself. My body warms up.
“I can’t have you, Ms. Roberts, because you aren’t haveable. You might be standing here, but you aren’t here.” He finds my eyes. “Still, I keep trying because I like you.”
I grip the hotel key card in my hand, unsure what to say next. I look over Jake’s shoulder and spot Pony walking in with a big smile, confident. He looks handsome. Kelly and Jerry enter right behind him. Then I see his date.
Taylor Malone. Are you kidding me? Pony is dating Taylor?
Fuck that times one million.
My face is as red as my dress. I’m seeing blood. And carnage. I want to destroy things. Seriously, I asked Pony for one thing. One thing. One damn thing.
I need a pillow to scream in.
“I’m going to find the bathroom,” I say to Jake, then scurry off.
PONY, 8:29 P.M.
The floor of the ballroom is littered with hundreds of balloons. There’s dancing, cheesy music, awkward flirting. It looks like all the high-school-dance movie clichés have thrown up on the Hyatt ballroom. It’s beautiful.
I’m wearing a tux with a pretty girl on my arm. Just another guy—no big deal—literally living my dream. There’s a tug at my heart for Ted London, but it’s overshadowed by excitement and nerves. We find an empty table to accommodate our triple date. Once seated, Taylor leans in and says, “You look handsome, Pony.”
“Stop trying to get in my pants,” I kid.
“Never on the first date, sir.”
I lean in closer so only she can hear. “Who are you really here with?”
She smiles at me playfully. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” I say.
“The real question is, why would you agree to take me to the dance? I know Georgia hates me. What’s your end game?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” she says.
GEORGIA, 8:29 P.M.
I find Mia and Lauren holding court at a packed table by the dance floor. I’m pushing pause on our fight. I need some girl time. Mia’s dress is bright blue and edgy, like she stole it off a fashion-week model in New York (which I wouldn’t put past her). Lauren looks like a celebrity in a dark green dress that perfectly matches her eyes. They both seem pleasantly buzzed.
“Did you see?” I ask.
“Let me guess,” Lauren says with a slight slur. “Taylor is here with Pony.”
“Dun dun dun,” Mia says, and they cackle.
“Ugh, yes. It’s killing my mood.”
Mia grabs my shoulders and gives me a playful shake. “KEEP IT TOGETHER, ROBERTS.”
“Yes, Captain, my captain,” I say, glad to be back on Mia’s good side, even though it’s because she’s tipsy. We spend the next ten minutes throwing shade on the bad dresses and embarrassing dancing until we laugh so hard our stomachs hurt. It’s mean. And doesn’t feel great. But I’m happy to be back with my girls.
I’m fuming at Pony. How dare he date Taylor? I have the urge to return the favor and reveal his secret—the one thing he asked me not to do. Mia and Lauren would explode at the juiciness of his secret. It’s on the tip of my tongue.
Before I get it out, our dates swarm the table and grab our hands. We hit the dance floor and wild out. The music slows down. Jake turns to me and half bows. “May I have this dance?”
“Fine,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck. He puts his hands