Chapter 15

Harper

“I hate him! No, I loathe him. No, that's not right either. I want to rip hisspleen from his body and run it over with his precious car and then,then, I'm going to...” I scream into my pillow for the tenth time while ahungover Sadie pats me on the knee.

We've been sitting in my room on our phones, watching Netflix all dayand I'm still pissed off.

I'm hurt.

I'm ready to start a war.

And I can't even tell anyone why it bothers me so much. I mean, I couldconfide in Sadie but something about those stolen moments withEaston feel precious-like they're mine-even though he’s so mean to meshould get a medal for not killing him.

Why is he so horrible to me?

“I mean, what have I ever done to make him so angry?” I throw myhands up. “So what, I'm Ryan's twin, is that a crime? I'm not at popularso that makes me not worthy of his attention? I don't get it, Sadie. It'sone thing to ignore someone completely, but now it's

like he's going out of his way to be mean!”

“Huh?” Sadie jerks awake and I glare at her. “I'm so sorry. It's just,you've been talking about this off and on for the last three hours and Igot sleepy.”

“Help me fix this,” I say. “Please.”

“Well,” she yawns behind her hand, “you could try making himjealous.”

“Oh yeah, great idea Sadie, let me just stroll up to school in my brandnew car with my model boyfriend and perfect designer body and makethe most popular boy in school jealous. Where do I sign

up?”

She falls back against my bed sighing

I join her and stare up at the ceiling. “It's hopeless.”

“It's never hopeless, let's just think about this from his point of view.. hestarted being mean after the bikini issue, right?”

I should tell her.

But would it matter? And how would that conversation even go?Guess what, he actually does want me, but only in the dark. Gee, maybewe can be secret boyfriend/girlfriend?

Great start, Harper. Perfect.

“Yeah, I mean.” I tug strands of hair in front of my face and startsearching for dead ends. “He seemed to react when Ryan got mad-likehe was mad too, but he was probably just helping out his best friend.”“I disagree,” Sadie finally says, I honest to God thought she'd fallenasleep again. We both turn at the same time, our cheeks pressedagainst the pillows. Her brown eyes are super blood shot, her facesplotchy. “What harm would it do to, oh I don't know, just attempt toput yourself together a bit for school on Monday? You know, no

more baggy clothes, some tight jeans or a skirt, add some makeup and"And get locked in my room forever while Ryan tells my parents?” Ifinish for her.

“Oh girl.” She grins. “You just leave that to me.” She stumbles out ofbed and goes to the door. “Be right back, I'm going to beg your momto let you stay at my house Sunday night. Things have been so hard.”She starts to fake tears. “After pop -pop died, I've been failing math andhistory. Both are your favorite subjects

“That's a complete falsehood! You don't even have a pop- pop.”

“His name was Frank.” She sniffles.

“You should have been in drama,” I grumble.

She tosses her hair. “I know,

right?”

Limagine my mom is going to see right through it, but I'm shockedwhen she not only says yes, but asks if she can send flowers in pop-pop’s memory.

I'm not sure if I should be proud of Sadie or terrified

Monday morning comes soon enough and after a lot of arguing on myend when Sadie shows me my outfit, and even more arguing

when I see myself after she applies some light makeup, I'm ready forwar.

At least that's what it feels like.

My only mission?

Gauge Easton's reaction.

I keep asking myself what's the worst that can happen, but every singletime my brain comes up with about a dozen scenarios, all of them endup with me in tears or embarrassed.

Too soon, we're at school and getting out of the car.

I nearly make a run for it, but Sadie has a death grip on my arm that'smost likely going to leave a bruise.

She clenches her teeth. “You're doing this.”

“I'm doing this,” I repeat in a weak voice that lacks any sort ofconviction or confidence.

It was easy in the dark.

Aren't most things?

And it was even easier when I was in a costume. I could be anyone !wanted to be, anyone but boring, smart, dark haired Harper

But today, I'm walking into school as a new version of myself, a self thatEaston hated, one Blake drunkenly flirted with, and one my

brother would murder once he saw me.

We walk through the main doors.

And the weirdest thing happens.

Literally nobody stares.

It's not like the movies where the makeover happens and everyonestarts to clap or people part and let you walk down the middle of thehall as they silently appreciate your efforts. Nope, everything is exactlythe same, which in my opinion is kind of awesome.

I wanted to look good but not so good that it brought too muchattention. I'm wearing black, ripped skinny jeans, matching shortboots, an off the shoulder vintage crop top that leaves about an inch ofskin showing and my glossy, brown hair is pulled into a high pony tail.Sadie went easy on the makeup, only adding a bit of powder, gloss,mascara, and eye liner, so all in all I feel like a refreshed version ofmyself.

I mean, sort of.

I'm still way too exposed.

I still feel this need to grab the nearest freshman and pry the sweatshirtfrom their scrawny little bodies and cover myself up.

“So far, so good.” Sadie winks as we make our way over to our

lockers.

“Harper?” Blake's voice sounds behind me.

She spoke too soon.

Tglance over my shoulder. “Yeah?”

He stares. Hard. His green eyes aren't looking at my exposed skin or thenew makeup. He's staring as if he can see right through me.

“Are you feeling better?” he finally asks.

“W-what?”

"You were pretty upset at the party, so I just wanted to check in.” Hissmile turns more sweet than perverted, setting the earth off its

axis.

“Yeah,” I replace my voice. “I am, thank you.”

“No problem.” He shoves his hands in his jeans, and then winks. “By theway, you look really pretty, though I don't mind the sweatshirts either...I like wondering what's underneath.”

What?

Sadie groans under her breath just as the warning bell rings.

I grab my books but stop when Easton rounds the corner.

He's by himself which is rare.

He throws his bag over his

shoulder, his eyes roaming the hall and finally land on me.

Moment of truth

I suck in a breath and wait for his reaction

For anger.

Yelling.

Or maybe...

Appreciation?

Instead, he barely glances at me, his gaze cold, expression hard. Then,walks right into his class without a word, like I don't even exist.

Mission. Failed.

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