The Good Girls

Mac scoffed. Now she was sure Blake was lying, considering how un-dressed up she was.

 

Blake took a step closer to her. All at once, Mac could smell that sugary, bakery smell he always gave off. “I miss you so much, Macks.”

 

She lowered her eyes. “Blake . . .”

 

“And I’ve been hoping—praying—you’ll at least talk to me again. I’ve been miserable, Macks. Life isn’t the same without you. Did you read my card?”

 

She wanted to shake her head no. She wanted to tell him she didn’t care about some stupid card. But she felt her lips tremble. She couldn’t get the right words out. Then he touched her chin, tilting it up. He didn’t say a word, just looked deeply into her eyes, and Mac felt herself crumble. A thousand thoughts competed for attention. Could she trust him? He seemed sincere . . . but he did last time, too. How did she know he meant what he said?

 

Mac felt herself leaning toward him anyway. She wanted to trust him—she needed to trust him. And maybe she could.

 

The sounds of the party slipped away. She tipped her head up toward his and closed her eyes, excited to feel his lips on hers again.

 

“Mac!” Someone gripped her upper arm, snapping Mac back into the loud, raucous present. Ava stood next to her, looking both hurried and a little sheepish. “I’m so, so sorry to interrupt,” she said, her gaze darting from Mac to Blake, “but we have to talk.”

 

Mac had never seen Ava look so frantic. Her heart started to pound. She turned back to Blake, her lips parting. “Um, sorry, I—”

 

But Ava cut her off and grabbed her arm. “Now.”

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

 

 

CAITLIN ADJUSTED HER UDUB CHEERLEADER costume and tumbled out of her car, which was parked a few doors down from Nyssa’s house in South Beacon, one of the prettiest areas in town. She could already hear the bass pounding inside, and a bunch of kids were standing on the lawn, drinking out of not-very-covert red Solo cups. One of the kids was Corey Travers, who was on the boys’ varsity soccer team even though he was only a freshman. “Hey, ladies!” he called out. “Great game!”

 

Caitlin and Vanessa—whom Caitlin had picked up on the way—beamed. Corey was referring to their game against Franklin, which had taken place earlier that day. They’d totally dominated, and Caitlin felt great about it, especially since it had been her first game as captain.

 

Vanessa, who was dressed as a Viking—naturally, given that “Viking” was her nickname—elbowed Caitlin in the ribs. “He’s cute.”

 

“He’s jailbait!” Caitlin laughed.

 

“That doesn’t stop you,” Vanessa teased, her eyes glinting. Then she glanced at Jeremy, who had finally climbed out of Caitlin’s passenger front seat and was walking a few paces behind them.

 

Caitlin blushed and swatted her head, knocking Vanessa’s helmet off-kilter. Vanessa just laughed and sauntered into the thick of the crowd, tossing her long blond braids and waving around her plastic shield.

 

Caitlin stopped to let Jeremy catch up to her. He’d been silent on the ride over, and he looked sort of pinched and sour as he trudged through Nyssa’s yard. “Ignore her,” she said quickly, hoping that Jeremy didn’t take offense at the jailbait comment. “She’s really nice once you get to know her, I promise.”

 

“Mm-hmm,” Jeremy said.

 

They stepped inside, and Jeremy’s lips pressed together as he surveyed the crowd. He looked uptight and annoyed. Caitlin poked him playfully with one finger, but he just stood there, looking uncomfortable in the lumberjack costume she’d cobbled together for him out of stuff in her garage. This wasn’t his scene. If it were up to Jeremy, they’d be in his basement tonight, watching Dr. Who and making out.

 

“Check out that skeleton!” Caitlin crowed in an overly positive voice, pointing to a life-sized version on the porch. Then she beamed at a kid inside with a brown alien mask on. “And isn’t that a character from Star Trek: The Next Generation?”

 

“A bad version of him, yeah,” Jeremy said sourly.

 

Caitlin grabbed his hand. “Come on. Let’s get some beer.” Maybe Jeremy would cheer up once he was a little buzzed.

 

The living room was packed and sweaty, and most of the kids were already drunk. Several boys were doing kegstands in the corner, and a huge group was toasting with neon-green Jell-O shots. Caitlin kept a smile pasted on her face the whole time, but she could sense Jeremy’s distaste. Cam Washington, who was also on the boys’ soccer team, came up to her and slapped her hard on the back. “Congrats on the two goals today,” he slurred, his breath smelling boozy.

 

“Thanks,” Caitlin said in a chipper voice. She gestured to Jeremy. “You know Jeremy Friday, right?”

 

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