Page 25 of Movers and Fakers

I let out a heavy sigh and step onto the elevator. Avoiding the decision, I text my friends that I’m back at the apartment first. Then I swipe away some emails and various notifications. All the while the knot in my stomach grows tighter and tighter. I make my way back to my apartment, slide off my heels at the door, then fall onto the living room couch and stare at the dark TV screen.

My eyes squeeze shut. Am I really about to do this?

No more asking about my social life.

No more blind dates.

No more comments about wanting me to live life to the fullest.

Combine this with the money from tutoring, and all of my current problems are solved. By Hayes Rosewood, of all people.

I pick up my phone and open the text thread with Hayes. Type up a message I’m sure to regret. Then hit send and throw my phone across the couch.

Aurora: I’ll do it.

Chapter thirteen

His First

Aurora Driscoll

In the midst of contemplating my sanity, the front door to the apartment opens. Saylor bursts in like she’s being chased by a serial killer. Her momentum is slowed by sliding off her shoes, but she uses the break to shout:

“Why haven’t you answered our texts or calls?!”

I blink a few times, wondering why I didn’t. Then I remember.

“I threw my phone.”

Saylor’s mouth opens. Closes. Behind her, entering at a much slower pace, are Jasmine and Marigold.

“What were you texting about? I told you I made it home safe,” I say as I reach across the couch to get my phone.

Sure enough, there are dozens of notifications in the group chat, and a few calls, too. I spot a Hayes mention and my stomach sinks.

“Everyone at the party said that you and Hayes are dating,” Marigold accuses as she walks past Saylor, who’s standing on the edge of the living room like it’s a battle line. “This is the part where you say a terrible rumor has been started about you.”

“Marigold,” Jasmine scolds.

Marigold sits on the edge of the coffee table so she’s facing me.

“Everyone, as in everyone?” I question. “I didn’t think the news would travel that fast.”

Her eyes widen.

“Does that mean you’re dating him?”

“Not exactly,” I hedge.

Her relief is evident, washing over her face. Discomfort twists and pinches like some kind of creature inside me. I can’t believe I agreed to this. My friends are going to hate me.

“What’s going on?” Jasmine asks in a gentler tone.

She sits next to me on the couch, one cushion down. Saylor takes a spot on the floor next to Marigold’s feet.

I flip my phone from one palm to the other, not looking at them. It’s silent for a moment, and for the first time, I wish it wasn’t.

“I’m sorry,” Marigold says before I can muster up the courage to speak. “I was judgmental. If you like Hayes, then I’ll try to like him. And if he’s a jerk, I’ll key his car. Or all his cars, because he probably has more than one.”