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To my credit, I keep my poker face firmly in place, even though my knees have just turned to spaghetti. “Oh yeah? Better than super cute, then?”
“Much better.”
I give him my own version of a slow, sexy smile, and he swallows—again. Meanwhile, I do an elaborate mental victory dance.
“Well, look at that. I guess youdoknow how to give a compliment, Eli.”
The song comes to an end, and I release him and step away. He studies me for a minute and opens his mouth to say something, but he’s interrupted by Mandi, who slings her arms around both of us.
“Yay! Two of my favorite people! See, Eli? I told you that asking her to dance would make her happy, and I was right. She’s smiling.”
I slide my gaze over to Eli, whose face turns ashen. “You told him to ask me to dance?”
“Yes,” Mandi says, nodding. “I hated seeing you sitting on the sidelines for the whole night. It was depressing me. I wanted you to have at least one dance with a guy.”
“Wow. Howwonderfulof you both,” I say, unable to hide the bitterness in my voice. “It’s nice to have friends that aresoconcerned about my wallflower status.”
Mandi, oblivious as always, says, “Of course! We care about you.” She waves to someone across the room. “I’ll be back in a jif! I have to say hi to Darcy.”
I stalk over to the couch and grab my leather jacket, then yank it on as Mandi hurries away to find her friend.
“Holland,” Eli says, following me, “look, I—”
“Don’t even try it,” I snap. As I try and push my way through the throng of people, he gently takes my arm and turns me around.
“Holland, stop.”
“Why? Aren’t you through humiliating me yet? Go on, I’ll wait.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t understand.”
“Actually, I understand plenty.”
Oh fuck, it’s happening again.
My eyes swim with tears, and any second now, they’re going to roll. I panic and wrench out of his grip. I’m seething with rage, and my face is hot with humiliation.
“You’ve got this all wrong,” he says quietly.
“Do I? Because I think you’re the one who’s got it all wrong, Donnelley.”
I try hard not to blink, but I can’t help it. The tears break free and roll down my cheeks, but I’m too pissed off and hurt to care. “You gave me a pity dance and plied me with empty compliments. You even made it look like dancing with me was your idea! But you know what the worst part of it is?” I fight hard to keep my voice even but fail miserably.
“Holland, please, just—”
“The worst part is that I really thought we were becoming friends.” I drag the back of my hands across my cheeks, angrily brushing away the tears. “But you’re just like the rest of them—a total fuckingjerk.”
I push my way through the crowd of people and head for the front door. Once I’m outside, I race down the steps, but I don’t stop. I run down the street in these stupid go-go boots and just keep going, passing houses and streets, my feet pounding against the pavement.
I don’t stop until I’m out of breath and bent over gasping for air. Collapsing back against a brick building, I close my eyes and try to calm my racing heart. Tears still pour down my cheeks, but trying to stop them right now is useless.
When I open my eyes, I catch sight of the pretty pink and white lily lying on the concrete near my foot. Letting out a strangled cry, I lift my boot and stomp on the beautiful flower, crushing it beneath my heel.
Now it looks exactly how I feel—destroyed.
Stupid Halloween.
Jamming my hands into my jacket pockets, I walk to the all-night coffee shop and kill some time by having a steaming cup of hot chocolate. I’m too exhausted to walk back to campus, but that means waiting around for the campus shuttle, and the next one isn’t for 45 minutes.
