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Wherever
I'm smiling when I slide into the passenger seat of Noah's car.
Wait a minute... Noah's car?
"Are we about to get arrested?"
Noah sends me a confused look before pulling away from the curb. "Look at you. Get detention for one day and already worried you're a criminal."
"I mean for being in a stolen car, dummy."
"Stolen? Lynnie, what are you talking about?"
"The car, Noah. How the hell did you get it?"
Laughter bubbles out of my brother as the car starts going faster. "I took the keys from Mom and booked it before she took them back."
"You stole the keys?" I assume.
"No," he stresses the word, shaking his head. "She gave them to me. This is my car."
"Since when was this your car? Why have we been taking the bus all this time?"
"Since twenty minutes ago." Noah glances my way, letting me see the annoyance in his eyes. "How dense are you? Obviously I didn't get the car until today." He pauses, eyes looking back over at me one more time. He opens and closes his mouth, clearly having an internal debate with himself about telling me whatever is on his mind. I shoot him a dry look. He groans and slowly makes a right turn, before mumbling, "Technically, we didn't get the car until today."
"We?" He nods his head with a grimace. "Wait a minute. Were you seriously thinking of not telling me that this is my car too?"
"Yup." His response has my hand reaching out to smack his arm, resulting in a yelp coming from his lips. "You're not supposed to hit the driver, Lynnie."
I wave my hand between us dismissively, not bothering to respond as I look around the car that's apparently mine. Or at least half mine. It's got that new car smell and it looks clean as fuck. I'm kind of shocked Mom gave this to Noah... to us, especially since we never asked for it. We had gotten our licenses last year, but Mom never got us a car. The one our father left behind was enough for Noah and I. I rarely ever drove anyway, seeing as I spent most of my time with Liam, and he did all the driving.
My stomach drops at the thought. Of him, of Liam. Of those simpler times. Over the fact that our one year anniversary of being official is this weekend, and over the fact that we've been close to one another for several months longer than that.
And yet, none of that matters. Not now. Not after I moved, not after what he did.
I reach for my phone and turn it on, ignoring the flood of messages my mother sent me, immediately heading for Liam's. He asked if I was out of school yet, ending the message with hearts.
My teeth grit at the symbol of his supposed love, anger taking over and guiding my thumb to dial his number. He picks up on the first ring.
"Lyn," he greets happily. "I was just about to call you."
"Were you now?" I ask sarcastically.
"Yeah," he says, sounding unsure, but the joy in his voice is still present. "I have news to tell you."
"What?"
"Guess."
"I don't really feel like guessing," I say dryly, waiting for Noah to finish parking so I can leave this car and yell at Liam in private.
"I'll give you a hint. It has to do with our anniversary."
I can't stop the chuckle from leaving my lips, and soon enough, I'm laughing hysterically. Noah shifts the gear stick into park, turning to look at me questioningly.
"Alright, I'll just tell you," Liam says, getting impatient.
"No, no, I wanna guess," I interrupt. "Hmm, let's see. What could you possibly have to say about our anniversary?"
"I have something great planned," he says, excitement coming back into his voice.
"Oh, you planned something? I'm surprised you were able to find the time to do that," I say teasingly.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Li," I purr. "Don't pretend you haven't been busy this past week."
Liam groans in annoyance. "Not this again. I'm sorry for even saying I was busy, Lyn. I never should have made you feel like I was avoiding you. I'm sorry."
"Is that really what you're sorry for?" I prod. Honestly, his apology sounds sincere, making me wonder if he really is trying to apologize for cheating without actually saying it to me.
Either way, he's only succeeding in pissing me off more.
The line goes silent for a moment. And even though he's not saying a damn word, his silence is speaking louder than he ever could.
Even when I hear him take a gulp and stutter out his stupid nickname for me, saying who knows what, trying to cover his own ass... all I hear is one word. One word he's not saying.
Guilty.
He's fucking guilty.
It feels like a weight is pressing down on my chest, because even though Jackâto my knowledgeâwas never a liar, there was a part of me that didn't want to fully believe anything until I discovered it for myself.
That moment of silence was all the discovery I needed.
R.I.fucking.P to Liam and me, because we are fucking over.
"Go to hell, Liam," I say over whatever he's mumbling out.
"Lyn," I hear him breathe out quickly. "Whaâwhat... what are you talking about?"
I close my eyes and take a deep breath in, trying to remain calm, not wanting to waste anymore energy over this asshole.
"Stop playing dumb, and stop trying to make me feel like I'm dumb. Don't disrespect me any further by trying to make it seem like I'm the one in the wrong here. You know what you did, I know what you did. It's over."
He's silent again, probably shocked that I know and shocked that I don't even want to argue about it.
I know I am.
Huh, just two weeks in New York and I feel like a new person all of a sudden. Maybe arguing over everything isn't the way to go. Maybe, just maybe, moving here isn't so bad after all.
"Lyn, please don't say we're over. We can fix this. You know we can," he pleads, but all I hear is lies.
I let out a small chuckle. "There's no fixing you screwing someone behind my back, Liam. Especially when that someone was my best friend."
"Holy shit, how do you even know all of this?"
I roll my eyes at the fact that he goes right to caring how I found out, not caring too much about apologizing.
What an asshole. Why did I date him?
"Beach Way wasn't that big of a school. You really didn't think people would find out, realize how fucked up what you two did was, and come tell me?"
I'm totally lying. The only decent person at that school is Jack, something that sadly only took me now to see. After leaving, I put everyone there on a pedestal because of how pissed I was. At least now I can see them for who they really are. A bunch of assholes. Might as well try to protect Jack and throw them all under the bus instead.
"I bought a ticket to come see you," Liam blurts out.
I'm laughing hysterically again. "Before or after you fucked Jessica?"
I hear a gasp on the side of me, reminding me that Noah's still in the car and hearing all of this. Fuck, he's gonna ask a bunch of questions and annoy the shit out of me.
Liam mumbles out another apology, and I think there's some form of explanation thrown in there, as if he could actually explain why he cheated on me. As if something that disgusting can be explained.
"I don't care," I announce, cutting him off. "I don't care about you anymore. It's over. Don't contact me again, and don't you dare use that ticket to come up here. I don't want to see you."
He's still talking, but the phone is ripped out of my hand and pressed against Noah's ear.
"She said it's over, dickhead. And if you do decide to come here, I will beat the shit out of you."
I'm not sure what Liam says after, but Noah smiles and ends the call, handing the phone back to me.
Silence engulfs the car, and we don't say anything about what just happened once we get out.
I don't mind. I want to leave Beach Way in the past, and I think Noah does too.
ââââââââââ²âââââââââ
The rest of the week carried on, and soon enough, it's Friday afternoon, meaning I survived my first full week at Arlin Preparatory High School.
I think back to Malia's little message about surviving from last week, it clicking in my head just what she meant. The rumor mill here is a nasty thing, and you've got to have some thick ass skin in order to survive it.
Clearly, I couldn't do so my first couple of days. But as the week went on, I honestly felt like the whispers and stares died down.
I still made a conscious effort to avoid Jalen and Malia and The Boysâdamn, I can't believe this is a real thingâduring passing in the hallway and at lunch. But, any class we had together, like art and AP Calc with Elijah, or Health with Jalen, or AP Physics with Daniel, I didn't make an effort to avoid them. I couldn't and I didn't even want too.
All three of them turned out to be good company, and though I could do without David's glares and side comments, they were bearable because of the fact that Jalen, Daniel, and even Noah's annoying ass were around.
I'm actually starting to feel like I have a place at this school, and I think part of that has to do with the fact that I cut everyone from Beach Way off.
Jessica hasn't reached out to me at all, and honestly, for some fucked up reason, her silence hurts more than her actions. She was always the consoler, the one ready to wrap someone in her arms and let them confide their problems in her, all while she comforted them with kind words.
I can't help picturing her doing that with Liam, comforting him and having it turn into something more.
Is it weird that the thought doesn't make me feel sick? Instead, I feel sorry. They're both horrible people, and I was naive and stupid to think they were real friends, people who really cared for me.
Anyway, her not reaching out shows me I never really knew her at all. She clearly doesn't care about how I feel.
Bea, on the other hand, hasn't stopped texting me. Every message has been left unread, seeing as there's nothing she can say to me. I know she was there the night of the kick-back party when Jessica called from Liam's phone. I'm assuming that's when everything between them started. Bea was always one to notice the smallest details and call people out on it. There's no way she couldn't have known, which means she just chose not to tell me. And that's fucked up.
I had to hear it from someone who isn't even my friend. That's just as unforgiveable as fucking my boyfriend herself.
They can all go to hell. Every last one of them. I'm done holding onto Florida. Clearly I won't be moving back, seeing as Mom announced she and Dad are having date night tonight. That means they're actually getting along, and whenever they're in one of their happy phases, there's no tearing them apart.
Long story short, I'm stuck in New York, and I'm stuck at Arlin Preparatory. I might as well get used to it.
The first step in doing so was agreeing to attend tonight's opening football game. According to Elijah, who invited me earlier in art today, the game doesn't count toward the actual championships. It's a scrimmage between them and another private school in the area. It's supposed to be an easy win, but since most of the best players are seniors nowâthough he totally blushed and said no when I asked if he put himself in that categoryâthe school's going all out for their last first game.
I finish straightening my hair just as my phone vibrates. I slowly place the heated straightener onto the desk in front of me, then slide my chair down to where my phone's charging, hoping it's not another text from Bea. I already blocked Liam, so I know it can't be him.
Elijah Valencia: hey, the game starts at 7 but they let people in an hour before. if you do go, let me know when you get here and i'll come find you.
A smile makes its way to my face as I quickly type back, definitely going!
I told him in class that I wasn't sure, seeing as he didn't even know what time the scrimmage would start since it wasn't a regular season game, and I was hesitant about being alone. I grew confident over the week, but not that confident. He said he'd text me the information when he found out and that he didn't mind keeping me company, so we exchanged numbers. I felt bad about stealing him away from the team, but he assured me he wouldn't get reprimanded for it.
What he really meant was he's far too valuable to the team for the couch to risk pissing off his star player, butâas I've learned over the weekâElijah's extremely humble. I mean, the guy takes zero compliments. At first I thought it was because he's self-conscious or easily embarrassed, but I'm starting to realize it's not that. It's the opposite, actually.
He knows he's good at what he does, so he doesn't need or want the validation. He does what he has to do and goes home, and I admire the fuck out of that.
Another hour passes before I'm dressed and ready to go, so I grab my phone and head to the living room, searching for the keys to the car.
When I see them dangling off of Noah's fingers I have to physically refrain myself from screaming out bloody murder.
"Can you pass me the keys, brother?" I ask calmlyâwell, as calmly as I can.
Another thing I admire about Elijah, he's always so calm.
"It's okay. I'll drive," Noah offers, beginning to walk toward the door.
"What?" I scream in shock, following after him. He heads toward the car parked in the driveway, unlocking the door and sliding in. When I don't move, he motions with his head for me to get in. So I do, because I was running late anyway. "Where the fuck do you think we're going?"
He gives me a dry look. "The game? Lynnie, can you not be dumb for five minutes?"
I make a fist and raise it toward him, but don't actually punch him because he's reversing out the driveway. "Why are you going to the game? You hate football."
"I don't hate football, you do. So why are you going?"
"Because Elijah invited me, and weren't you the one telling me to just accept the move? This is me accepting it."
He shrugs. "This is me accepting it, too. Plus, Danny invited me."
"Daniel... invited you?" Daniel didn't mention the game to me at all. I almost forgot he was on the team, let alone the quarterback. How could he invite Noah and not me?
Noah sends me a smug look when we reach a red light. "Yes, he did. But I'd rather focus on the fact that Elijah invited you."
I ignore whatever he's hinting at, not understanding the big deal. What's important is the fact that Daniel invited him, he... choose him.
Oh my damn. I lost a friend to Noah. How is that even possible?
"Whatever," I mumble, seeing the school getting closer.
Noah parks the car and we exit, heading toward the field as I contemplate what I'm going to do. Should I hang with Noah during the game, or text Elijah that I'm here?
Damn it, I should have asked Rachel if she was coming.
Just as I reach for my phone, ready to text the short girl with wild hair, I hear someone calling my name.
It's Jalen, leaning against the gate, waving a hand in the air. I ignore David, who's standing to his side, and walk over there.
"Hey," I wave. "I didn't peg you as the type of person who went to school games."
"And I didn't peg you as the type of person who used the word peg." He leans off the gate and steps closer, allowing me to smell the faint scent of cigarettes. The cologne he's wearing thankfully overpowers it, but that still doesn't erase the fact that he does smoke.
I frown in disappointment, but don't mention it. I can already hear how David and Noah will tease me for even caring. Assholes.
Instead, I smile at him. "I'm happy you actually used the word correctly."
"Oh," he announces with his own smile. "I have to be in an AP class to know how to use a word properly?"
"No," I say with a shake of my head. "You have to be able to pick up on context clues."
"Which means you have to be able to do something really fucking simple."
"Exactly," I say while raising my hands toward him.
"I find your lack of faith disturbing," he says while raising a hand to his heart.
"Alright, Yoda."
Jalen cocks his head to the side. "Yoda?"
"Is he not from Star Wars?"
"Darth Vader says that line," he says with disappointment.
"Same thing," I dismiss.
"It's actually not the same fucking thing," he argues with wide eyes.
"I didn't peg you as the type of person to be such a Star Wars fanatic."
He shakes his head. "Are we back to using that word that I wasn't supposed to know?"
I let out a giggle, ignoring David's glares and Noah's aggravated sigh. "Are you two done?"
We both turn to Noah with narrowed eyes, and I'm almost shocked when I see the disapproval on my brother's face.
Does he not like Jalen? Why? What could he have possibly done?
"No one's making you stay here," I say jokingly, though I'm being completely serious. I'm still annoyed that Daniel invited Noah and not me.
I get jealous easily, oh fucking well.
Just as Noah's mouth opens, no doubt ready to spit out something stupid, I hear Prince shouted from a few feet away. We both turn toward where we hear our surname coming from, and I'm not even shocked to see a bunch of guys dressed in letterman jackets.
"Well, go on," I say with a motion of my hand in their direction. "Your track brothers await."
Noah still doesn't move, wearily eyeing the short amount of distance between Jalen and I. "Come sit with us."
I look toward the group of guys again, already feeling uncomfortable with the way they're watching me. I feel Jalen take a small step closer, and instantlyâjust like pushing one domino in the line makes all the others fallâthe guys direct their gaze elsewhere.
Whoa.
I turn to Jalen, but his eyes are hardened and set on Noah's future teammates. When he sense my gaze on him, he turns his head, resulting in those navy blue eyes landing on me. With just that one look, I already know my answer.
"I'm good here, we'll meet up later," I tell Noah with finality in my voice.
My dramatic brother sighs heavily and rolls his eyes, before making the smartest decision he ever could: he gives up and walks away.
Part of me instantly regrets sending Noah off, especially when I turn toward the two boys again, and see David still standing here. What are the chances he'd just leave us?
Before David can say a word, right as we make eye contact, his phone begins to ring. "Yeah?" He answers in a rush. "I'm here. I'll come meet you out front."
With one last pointed look sent Jalen's way, David takes off, not sparing me another glance.
Huh, so I guess the chances were pretty fucking high.
All of a sudden, I feel nervous. I can't deny that I wanted Noah and David to leave, but now that they have, my stomach's swarming with nerves, and I can't tell if they're the good kind or the bad.
I face Jalen again, and when he flashes me an innocent smile, causing his dimple to pop out, I tell myself they're the good kind.
That thought leaves my mind when he starts walking off.
"Um, Jalen?" I ask, unsure if I should follow or not. He keeps walking, but quickly turns his head to send me an encouraging smile over his shoulder. My legs move before my mind can catch up, leading us further away from the field, back into the parking lot. "Where are you going?"
"You mean where are we going," he corrects with a smirk, slowing his pace once he knows I'm following. He sees the questioning look I make, clearly not satisfied with his answer. "You said so yourself. I'm not the type of person who goes to school games."
"Then why'd you come?" I ask, completely confused now.
"Why'd you?" He returns, stopping without warning, almost causing me to walk right into his side.
I pause, wondering why I did even show up. Then, I remember. It was to try finding and cementing my place in this school. That was the goal I wanted to accomplish tonight.
It doesn't seem like that's what I'm currently doing. My place here can't possibly be where I am right now. It can't be by Jalen's side.
"So, you're leaving?" I hate how unsure my voice sounds, how desperately I wish his answer is no.
He nods, then licks his lips and searches my eyes for a moment, succeeding in making my heart rate speed up. He reaches his hand out, making my eyes widen, unsure of where that hand is going to land. It's bought in front of him, though, as he shakes it a bit to bring his watch forward, checking the time.
"I have something to do," he finally explains, but his words do nothing to ease the tornado currently occurring in my stomach. Fuck, why am I so damn nervous? "Would you like to join me?"
Everything about the way he asks, smiles, and stares should have me saying no, but somehow, I can't bring myself too. Because if I'm being honest, I'd love to join him wherever the fuck he's going. That sounds a lot more fun than staying here with Noah and his bros.
"Where?" I question, not wanting to agree so quickly without even knowing what his plans are.
"I have to pick up something, and then we can go wherever after that," he says with a small shrug, so casually, as if we truly could go anywhere.
I nod slowly. "Okay. Let's go."
I expect him to continue walking until we reach his car, but I'm sorely mistaken, seeing as all he does is turn toward a motorcycle. When he reaches for the helmet hanging off the side, I take a step back.
"Are you serious?" I question.
"Sometimes, yeah," he says with a nod of his head.
I squint my eyes, not realizing right away that he answered my question literally. I roll my eyes after, then shake my head rapidly. "Am I really about to get on a motorcycle?"
"Scared?" He asks teasingly, biting the side of his lip to try hiding his smile.
I let out a brief laugh, watching as his smile drops and confusion floods his face, but that amused glint in his eyes doesn't leave. "Not scared," I explain, "I just know my mom will kill me if she were to find out."
Jalen's smile is back, as he finishes lifting the helmet and holding it between us. "Am I gonna have to give you a whole speech about how much of a pro I am at driving just to get you on," he starts, motioning with his head to the bike.
I reach out my hand, touching the helmet and halting his next words. "I said she'd kill me, I didn't say I cared."
I don't miss the shock that appears on his face, no matter how brief it is, before he's wiping it away in exchange for an unreadable expression.
Raising the helmet up, I place it on my head, reaching for the straps underneath after. Jalen's hands lightly push mine away, opting to close it himself, and it takes everything in me to keep my eyes focused on his fingers at work, rather than looking up and seeing just how close he's standing. It's enough that I can practically feel his body heat.
Jalen steps back, swings one leg over the seat, then looks at me from over his shoulder. Not needing another signal, I lightly place my hands on his shoulders, knowing I shouldn't even try to attempt getting on this shit without some sort of lifeline keeping me upright. Once I'm seated, though, I quickly take my hands off of him.
"Not scared at all, huh?" He asks again, turning his head, allowing me to view his perfect side profile.
Damn that jawline looks like it could cut through anything.
"Hey, if you're so confident in your skill that you're riding without a helmet, then you must know what you're doing," I reason, even though I do feel scared.
I'm just not sure if it's from being on this type of bike for the first time, or something else. Something having to do with this beautiful, blue eyed boy sitting in front of me.
The motorcycle purrs to life right after, taking off seconds later. Needless to say, my hands are back on Jalen instantly, no longer giving a fuck about keeping some sort of distance between us.
Fuck distance, I'm trying not to die and allow my mother to utter the words I told you so when she's proven rightâjust like she always does.
The helmet does little to stop my loose hair from flying all over the place, strands hitting my eyes and reaching my mouth. I'm just glad Jalen's focused on, you know, driving, rather than having the chance to turn around and see what a fucking mess I must look like right now.
We stop at some sort of building however long later. I honestly don't know if it's close to the school or if Jalen just went super fucking fast. I really don't care, either. I need a second to gather myself.
I barely hear Jalen telling me to get up first and wait right here, it'll only take a minute before he's gone and I'm ripping the helmet off.
True to his wordâsurprisinglyâJalen is back within minutes, giving me enough time to remove my hair from my mouth, place it into a low ponytail, and put the helmet back on my head.
My eyes scan the building, taking note that this is a law firm. Jalen was meeting with a lawyer?
He's folding a paper as he quickly walks over to me, shoving it into the pocket of his leather jacket. He catches my questioning eyes watching his movements, but before I can ask anything, he says, "Just some family business. Thanks for waiting."
He hops back onto the motorcycle, looking at me expectantly, clearly wanting to get away from this place as quickly as possible.
I climb on, much faster this time, unsure if it's because I'm getting used to the bike already, or if Jalen's own nerves of getting away from here are rubbing off on me.
"Where to?" He asks, putting his profile on display again, distracting me for a moment.
"Uh," I mumble, unable to think of anything. "Wherever you wanna go, I guess. I'm not familiar with anything here."
He nods and looks off for a second, before turning toward me again. "You like ice cream?"
"Love it," I correct, smiling brightly.
"I know a really good place not too far from here," he states, before starting the motorcycle, sending us flying off once again.
This time, my hair is less of a mess, and now that I know the speed the bike will go at, I quickly adjust to it. Removing one hand from Jalen, I reach out to the side. The wind hits, letting my arm fly around the air. I lean a little away from him, loving the way my whole body almost feels like it's flying. I wonder if this is why Jalen even rides to begin with, because of how freeing this feels.
The thought is knocked out of me when the bike abruptly stops and, because I was leaned away and allowing the wind to literally push my body around, I crash into Jalen's backâharshly.
"Ouch," I whine, feeling my chest and face hurt from the impact. My eyes begin watering from the pain running up my nose.
Jalen turns around, making me realize we're at a red light. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, just hurt a little, totally my fault, though," I quickly say.
I notice his hand reach up and rub his neck, letting me know the helmet must have hit him there. I bring my hand to my mouth, attempting to cover my laugh as I ask, "Are you okay?"
He sends me a tight lipped smile. "Yup, just remembering why I rarely let other people ride with me."
My giggle comes out, unable to not find it funny that my stupidity ended up hurting him. "I'm sorry," I say as sincerely as I can, because I really do mean it. "Won't happen again."
"Mhm," he hums, turning to refocus on the road, knowing the light will change any second.
Still laughing lightly, mostly to not focus on my own pain from the impact, I quickly reach my hand up before I can change my mind. I lightly touch the back of his neck, watching closely for his reaction, silently praying he won't push me off the bike for having no boundaries.
Luckily, his first reaction isn't to shove me off, but his shoulders tense a bit at my touch. I grip the back of his neck lightly and begin massaging it, hoping to ease some of the pain, rather than increase it. When I see his shoulders relax and he doesn't say a word or shake me off, I put more pressure.
The light turns green and we begin moving again, so I quickly remove my hand, returning it to it's previous spot around his waist with my other one, realizing holding onto him is the safest way for both of us to ride this motorcycle.
Minutes later we're stopping at the corner of a busy street. Once again, I get off first, with Jalen quickly following. I stand by the bike, watching as he places the helmet onto a handle, unsure of where to go due to the sea of people on the sidewalk.
I feel a warm hand land on my lower back, then Jalen stands closely beside, bringing his lips by my ear as he says, "The ice cream stand is this way."
Honestly, ice cream is the last thing on my mind after that, but I follow his instructions anyway, letting him nudge me in the right direction.
There's two men standing by the stand, one extremely older, with a pop out belly, and the other in his mid-twenties. When the younger guy spots us, he waves us over excitedly. As we get closer, Jalen removes his hand from me, using it to shake the outreached hand the man has.
When the older man notices our presence, he looks closely, before recognition floods his features, and he's smiling brightly, shouting, "Vincenzo!" in an unmistakable Italian accent.
I furrow my brows, confused, before remembering that's Jalen's middle name.
Jalen sends the man a smile, before walking behind the stand, allowing them to greet each other with two cheek kisses.
Okay, why do I find Jalen kissing an old man extremely cute?
I shake the thought away, now aware of the younger male watching me. He turns to Jalen, motioning with his head to me as he asks, "è questa la tua ragazza?"
We both look at Jalen expectantly, the guy wanting an answer, and me super confused on what's being said. Jalen chooses to look at me, taking in my confused expression and smiling, before turning toward the guy with a shrug of his shoulders, then shaking his head right after.
"A Cortney non piacerebbe," the guy says with a laugh.
Jalen sucks his teeth and waves his hand dismissively, stating, "Non mi interessa."
As attractive as it is to hear Jalen speaking a foreign language, I still can't stop a frown from coming to my face, reality hitting me that this Cortney girl is very real.
At Arlin Preparatory High School, she seems almost like a myth. Everyone has a different story on her relationship with Jalen, and her supposed rivalry with Malia, yet I haven't even seen the girl. Well, I probably have and just don't know, but if the rumor are true, and she really is dating Jalen, and she really does hate Malia, why wouldn't I have ran into her by now? I hear everyday as I walk by that people think me and Jalen are too close, and everyone knows I'm Malia's cousin. Wouldn't Cortney have seeked me out to say somethingâanything at allâto me already? The girl who's taking her man, the girl who's related to her nemesis.
I convinced myself over the past week that rumors are really just rumors, holding no truth to them at all.
But if this guy, who's clearly friendly with Jalen, is mentioning Cortneyâespecially after he sees Jalen show up with another girlâthen I can't help but acknowledge that those rumors do hold some truth to them.
The only question is, how much?
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A / N:
It's almost been a month since I updated, sorry!
I hope everyone's enjoying the book so far. HST reached 1k reads a few days ago, and I'm honestly so, so happy and grateful people have clicked on my story. Thank you!
Also, I included some Italian at the end there. I hope I wrote it right. If anyone needs the translations, the guy asked if Lyndon is his girlfriend, then said Cortney wouldn't like this, and Jalen responded with "I don't care."
Again, thank you for reading. Next chapter should be up sometime this week!