“Well . . .” I hesitate. “He just might be the love of my life.”
“Oh, Kaley,” she says, waving me off.
I’m too stunned and confused to react to her condescension. “Mom, we’ll talk later. I have to go.”
“I can not let you leave with him, Kaley, I’m sorry. I need to know more about this man.”
“Mom, please. Go in there and talk to him then. I need to go change. I’m not going to have this discussion with all my friends in the next room.”
She stares me down.
“Come on, Mom,” I beg. “You know me. Just please trust me on this.”
Her eyes soften slightly. “I do trust you, Kay. I’m just . . . a little shocked right now.”
“I know.”
“How old is he?”
I bite my bottom lip. “Twenty-five.”
“Kaley,” she chides. “I’m . . . concerned.”
“Mom, give him a chance, please. He’s amazing.”
She sighs before a slight smile betrays her face.
“Well,” she says. “I’ll admit he certainly looks amazing.”
My mouth drops, and I laugh. “Mom!”
“Go,” she says pointing to the living room. “But we’re talking about this when you get back.”
“I promise,” I say, then rush back into the living room.
Elijah is settled into the couch with one arm slung over the back, coolly chatting away with my friends—who are all clearly on edge. I think back to the barbeque at Coach Miller’s, when all of them were clamoring to join the Mr. Slate Fan Club. A laugh escapes me, and everyone’s eyes pivot in my direction.
I flush. “Um . . . I’ll be right back, guys. I’m going to go change real quick.”
“Okay, baby,” says Elijah.
Tommy grows pallid and glances at Elijah, then back to me. Elijah winks at me, and I hold back a grin—he’s enjoying this way too much.
I turn for the stairs.
“Wait!” Emily calls out. “I’ll help you!” She scrambles up the stairs after me and practically tackles me when we enter my bedroom. She stands with her jaw hanging open, gaping at me in silence.
“Are you mad at me?” I say, cringing.
When she finally speaks, her voice is loud. “Are you kidding me? Slate?!”
“Shh!”
She lowers her voice. “I know I should be totally mad at you for lying to me, but I’m too busy freaking out. I knew something was up! I mean, I thought I was crazy, so I let it go, but I knew something was off with you guys lately. I just wasn’t sure what it was. Are you guys like, just sleeping together, or are you like a real thing?” She sits on the edge of my bed like a dog begging for a treat.
“We haven’t slept together,” I say as I slip off my shoes. “We came close a couple times though.”
She lets out an agonizing sigh and throws herself back on my bed. “Tell me everything, Kay. Everything!”
I laugh. “I don’t have time to tell you everything right now, but I will. I promise.”
“Kaley. You almost had sex with Mr. Slate. Professor Mc-Freaking-Hottie! You have to give me something.”
“Okay,” I say with a smirk. “His body is even better than you can imagine. It’s insane.”
She squeals into my pillow, squeezing it to her chest.
“But he’s more than that,” I say as I pull my black dress out of the closet. “Actually, I kind of broke it off with him a couple weeks ago. It got super complicated really fast. And I was so sick of lying to everybody—especially you—and when he told me he still wanted to keep us a secret for another year, I just couldn’t deal. We haven’t spoken since.”
“Are you serious?” She jumps off the bed and helps zip me up. “So, is this like his declaration of love for you?”
My cheeks burn. “I don’t know. Maybe. To be honest, I’m too shocked to comprehend anything right now.” I slide into my black strappy heels and continue. “I thought it was over. I mean, I cried hard over him, Ems. We were done.” My hands shake as I transfer my belongings from my purse to my neon-pink clutch.
“Whoa,” she says. “So this got deep.”
“Yeah,” I whisper.
She clasps her hands together. “Swear to me that you will tell me everything. Every. Single. Detail.”
“I promise,” I say as I check myself in the mirror. I can’t believe she finally knows the truth.
“Wait!” she says as I grab the door handle.
“What?”
“When did this happen? Like, when did something actually happen between the two of you?” Her eyes gleam with anticipation.
“Like small things? Or big things?”
“I don’t know!” she cries. “When did you become official? Or were you ever official?”
“We were.” My stomach clenches. “You might get upset,” I warn.
“Just tell me.”
I hesitate. “It was prom night.”
She falls to her knees. “Get. Out!”
I laugh at my lovingly dramatic best friend.
“I am dying!” she shrieks. “After you left the hotel?”
“Yeah. I stayed over at his house that night.” I still have the urge to be careful, but it’s too hard not to tell her everything. My best friend is back, and I never want to let her go.
“Prom night,” she whispers to herself. “Oh my gosh. . . . Oh my gosh!” I watch her face as she recalls the details of the evening.
“Are you mad?” I ask again.
She thinks for a moment. “You know what? No,” she says firmly.
“I mean, Tommy would’ve cheated anyway, I guess. He thought you went home. We all did. I never wanted you to be with a cheater, Kay. I was just devastated over the whole thing. I’m sorry you didn’t think you could talk to me about it.”
“Don’t make me cry right now,” I say, laughing as the tears start to swell. I pull her off the floor and gather her into a hug. “I’m still worried you’re going to be mad at me.”
She pulls back. “Why?”
“Because I . . .”
“Hey!” she warns, noting my expression. “Do not cry. Did you see your gorgeous date down there?” She laughs. “You cannot ruin your makeup!”
I laugh and grab a tissue from my nightstand, carefully blotting underneath my eyes. “Ems, I cheated first. . . . I’m a piece of shit.”
“No you’re not! Tommy’s the piece of shit.”
I laugh again. “What?”
“He banged Avery after he thought you went home.”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. I made out with Slate way before that.”
“When?” she asks.
“After his study session.”
She presses her eyes closed, and I wait for her tongue-lashing. “Okay, look,” she says, opening her eyes. “I get that you feel bad. And I don’t think cheating is cool. Ever. But let it go. Tommy can’t defend himself here—he cheated on you anyway. No offense, but you guys were kind of a disaster.” She clutches my shoulders, startling me. “And holy shit, his study session? You have to tell me about that later!”
“I promise we’ll talk about everything tomorrow. Come on, I don’t want to leave him alone too long with Tommy and my mother.”
She giggles. “Kaley, did you see Tommy’s face? It was priceless.”
“Yeah. The only thing better would’ve been seeing Avery’s face,” I say. “That bitch was always throwing herself at him in class.” We burst into laughter as we enter the hallway.
“Hey, I’m sorry for bailing on the party,” I say. “And I know he just showed up to my house, and it’s super crazy, but please don’t gossip about it tonight. He could be in some serious trouble now. Tell the guys, too.”
She mimes zipping her lips, then takes a step back, arching a single eyebrow. “Um, Kay? Isn’t that Tommy’s favorite dress?”
I bite my lip. “Elijah asked me to wear it tonight . . . so I guess this dress belongs to him now.”
“Elijah asked you to wear that?” her eyes bulge as his first name tumbles awkwardly out of her mouth. “I’m dying to know how he even knows about this dress.”
I can’t hold in my grin. “I have so much to tell you, Ems.”
“You better call me tomorrow,” she warns, “or I will never forgive you.”
“I will,” I promise.
As we descend the stairs, I find my mom sitting on the couch next to Elijah, chatting with the boys. Bizarre doesn’t even come close to describing the scene. Tommy’s mouth goes slack when he sees me, while Elijah strides over to meet me at the bottom of the stairs.
“Hey, beautiful,” Elijah says with a heart-wrenching smile.
Emily slips past him with an expression that I will forever regret not capturing on camera.
“Well, we should probably get going,” says Derek, appearing eager to escape the situation. He jerks Tommy to his feet and discreetly shoves him toward the door.
“You guys be safe tonight,” Elijah calls to my friends as we follow them outside.
I tilt my head at him in disapproval. It’s clear he’s getting way too much enjoyment out of torturing Tommy.
Emily gives me a tight hug and whispers in my ear, “Every. Detail.”