Excerpt 1
Holden
“See? She’s real!” I announce triumphantly, putting my arm around Zoey after leading her through Johnny and Marla’s crowded apartment.
My friends’ faces grow more and more surprised as we go from one to the next. But there she is—the girl these idiots thought I’d made up. “You all owe me twenty dollars. Every one of you.”
Zoey rolls her eyes, brushes my arm off—and a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. That half-smile says she’s annoyed, but also secretly enjoying this. It’s the same look she’s been giving me since we were kids.
“Nobody really bet with you, Holden,” Wyatt says, eyeing Zoey with his calm, appraising gaze. “We just didn’t believe you knew a real social media celebrity.”
“I prefer content creator,” Zoey corrects him dryly. She extends her hand to Wyatt first. “Zoey Carter. And whatever Holden has told you about me is only half true at best.”
Wyatt takes her hand and smiles slightly. “Wyatt Howland. This is Romy,” he says, pointing to her as she braids her dark blonde hair.
“The newcomer from New York,” Zoey says, nodding. “Holden told me about you. He said you were too cool for Barre, but you stayed anyway.”
Romy raises her eyebrows in surprise. “Did he? Interesting way of putting it.”
“I’m JJ,” he says, without stepping out from behind Lennon, as if she’d vanish if he didn’t keep his arm around her waist for even a minute. “And this is Lennon.”
“The two of them who love a bit of drama,” Zoey confirms with a slight grin. “Holden was basically the live updater.”
JJ’s expression darkens slightly, but Lennon laughs. “Oh, I like you!”
“Johnny Reyes,” he introduces himself, far too cheerfully. “This is my apartment—well, mine and Marla’s.” He gestures toward the brunette beside him, who gives Zoey a warm smile. “We just moved in.”
“I’m new to Barre, too,” Marla adds.
“I’m Ryan,” he introduces himself, making an exaggerated curtsy. “I’m the only one here who regularly buys Holden a drink without complaining.”
“That’s because you’re trying to convert me,” I retort, whereupon he gives me a dramatic wink. “A man can dream, can’t he?”
“And I’m Maddox,” says the last one in the group. It almost looks as if he’s trying to make his burly frame appear smaller to them. As if that wouldn’t make you feel like he lifts cars as a hobby.
“The football captain,” Zoey remarks. “All right—now I’ve got them all.”
As she smiles, I can see her mind working, gathering impressions and connecting faces with the stories I’ve told her.
Her dark hair falls in waves over her shoulders, and she’s dressed simply: black, much-too-baggy, ripped jeans, sneakers that almost disappear, and an oversized T-shirt slipping off one shoulder. But there’s something about her that draws attention, as if she weren’t already more important to me than everyone else in this room.
“So,” she says, turning to face me. “Who’s responsible for this disaster on your head?”
Instinctively, I run my hand through my white-blonde hair with dark roots. “What? It looks fine.”
Ryan raises his hand. “That was me. Former pro.”
“Professional is a bit of an exaggeration,” Romy interjects. “How long did you work at that hair salon? Three months?”
“Four,” Ryan corrects her. “And I was in high demand.”
“How many times did you have to bleach it?” Zoey asks, twirling a strand of my hair between her fingers. “It’s pretty damaged.”
“Three times, but it’s still manageable,” Ryan says. “There are worse things.”
“And you’re wondering why they fired you?” Romy asks innocently.
“I quit,” Ryan snorts. “Creative differences.”
“This hair has one advantage,” Zoey explains, taking a closer look at my hair. “It makes you look even more ridiculous than I thought possible.”
“Hey!” I protest. “Women love my hair.”
“At most, women love making fun of your hair,” she corrects me. “That’s a difference.”
“You know what? I take it all back. You’re no longer welcome in Barre. Go back where you came from.”
“For months you’ve been telling me how happy you are that I’m coming here,” she retorts, crossing her arms. “You said you wouldn’t survive a single day without me. And now you already want to get rid of me?”
“That was before I remembered what a pain in the neck you are.”
Her lips twitch. “Well. Too bad for you.”
“How long have you two known each other, anyway?” Lennon asks, glancing amusedly back and forth between Zoey and me.
Zoey and I exchange a glance.
“For ages,” I say.
“Since I was four,” she says at the same time.
“I’ve known you since you were born,” I contradict her.
Zoey shakes her head. “You were only three when I was born. You can’t remember what I was like as a baby.”
“Yes, I do. You were tiny and loud, and your face was all red because you were screaming nonstop.”
“That’s what all babies look like, you idiot! The first time I remember was when I was five and my mom forced me to go to his seventh birthday party. You told me you could turn into a wolf.”
“That’s not how it was at all,” I try to deflect, because I see the skeptical looks from the others, who’ve immediately recognized her as unwitting.
“Of course that’s how it was. You scared me so much with your talk that I hid in the closet for two hours and missed Halloween.”
“And then your mom made me apologize. We’ve been best friends ever since,” I conclude, putting my arm around her shoulders again. “It doesn’t get any more romantic than that, does it?”
My friends all still look skeptical—and at least one of them probably thinks I’m paying Zoey to be here.
“Anyway,” I clear my throat to snap them out of their stupor. “Now she’s here, and I’m glad about it, because ever since you all found each other, it’s gotten extremely boring for outsiders like me.”
“Here we go again,” JJ mutters.
“No, I’m serious! You’re all in your little honeymoon phase, and it’s disgusting. Wyatt and Romy are already acting like retirees. JJ and Lennon have finally…”
“Careful,” JJ warns, but Lennon just laughs.
“Johnny and Marla are copying Romy and Wyatt,” I continue. “And what am I supposed to do? Be celibate?”
“Holden is still upset because the older woman he was seeing broke up with him,” Wyatt explains to Zoey.
“It’s really bad,” Lennon says, pressing a hand to her chest. “Shouldn’t we go see a doctor after all?”
“Which older woman?” Zoey asks, looking up at me.
“She’s exaggerating,” I wave it off. “It was just a casual fling with someone a little older. She wanted something serious, I didn’t. So I broke up with her.”
“But that’s not what you told us,” Romy remarks. “You said she thought you were too young and immature.”
“Details,” I reply as I walk over to the fridge and grab a beer. “The point is, it doesn’t matter, because I’m free as a bird, while you’re all tied down by your hormones and emotions.”
“So dramatic,” Lennon sighs. “Has he always been like this?”
“He’s always been a bit special,” Zoey says, crossing her arms over her chest. The way she stands there—weight on one hip, eyebrows raised—makes her look both amused and skeptical.
“Very charming,” I say, thanking her and handing her a beer. “If I didn’t need you, I’d pack your things back up myself.”
“Why do you need me at all?” she asks, pointing the beer bottle at Maddox and Ryan.
Ryan raises his beer glass as soon as the bottle is pointed at him. “We don’t exactly move in the same circles, sweetheart.”
“And I’d rather stick needles in my eyes than help Parker get laid,” Maddox adds dryly.
“The feeling’s mutual, Coleman.”
Zoey looks back and forth between us. “What’s with all the hostility? We’re at the same party, after all.”
“Basketball versus football,” Lennon explains with a long-suffering sigh. “An ancient and bitter rivalry.”
“Which Lennon has only made worse by switching sides,” Romy adds.
“I’m Switzerland,” says Lennon. “Neutral territory.”
“You’re sleeping with the enemy,” Maddox mutters, earning a dark look from Lennon and JJ.
“So, Zoey,” says Marla, clearly wanting to change the subject, “how do you like Barre so far?”
Zoey shrugs. “I’ve only been here a month, but it seems like a small town like any other. Quiet. A little boring.”
“Wait… A month?” Lennon asks, horrified. “Holden said…”
“That doesn’t matter,” I interrupt her. “I wanted her for myself first.”
“We could show you around,” Lennon offers, trying to just ignore me. “Romy and I know all the good spots!”
“The best places are Quinn’s Diner and… well, actually just the diner,” Romy admits.
“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you when she’s arriving. She doesn’t need a tour from the two of you,” I interject. “You can enjoy your time as a couple. Zoey belongs to me.”
“That’s not creepy at all,” JJ comments dryly.
“You know what I mean,” I defend myself. “I need Zoey as my wingman. Girls love her. If I’m not mistaken, a few cute girls have already recognized her.” I look at her and see the frown line forming on her forehead. “All you have to do is put in a good word for me.”
“You’re an idiot,” she finally says. “Where’s the bathroom, anyway?”
“At the end of the hall, first door on the left,” Romy answers before Marla can respond. “I’ll show you.”
“I’m coming too,” Marla adds. The three of them walk off, leaving me behind, staring after them.
“Was that a yes or a no?”
In response, Zoey looks back over her shoulder and gives me the middle finger.
