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It’s not that Andrew is a bad boy, either. He’s a good boy with a shining reputation. He doesn’t date, but suddenly, he wants to date me. It’s got me all confused and stressed before I step out the door each morning. I even bought a flat iron, burning my ear in the learning process, but that was the cost of taming frizz.
Andrew’s stupidly hot, and I’m…me. Happy and confident but also inexperienced in both sex and using hair tools.
I think I might be the only virgin on campus, a fact that Harper can confirm since she knows all the juicy gossip.
I’ve gone out on a few dates with Andrew, and each time I see him, I feel the odd thing called ‘chemistry’ starting to boil.
"There are rumors about his family," Peter says.
I roll my eyes. "There are always rumors about rich families," I retort.
Andrew is rich. Very rich. He drives a Porsche from Monday through Thursday and, on Fridays, a supercar—an SUV with a horse logo. I never remember the name because I'm not into cars. I just think the logo is kind of cute, though I doubt any guy wants to hear his car described that way.
Andrew's not the type to brag about his material items, either. If he were, I'd gag. He drives his cars, wears designer clothes, and doesn't comment on the matters.
"We're kind of rich too," I mumble. "People might be gossiping about us.” I reach for the book, flip it open again, and then grab my notepad.
"It's not the same. I just don't like the things I hear. I want you to be safe," Peter says earnestly.
I reach out, touching his forearm. "Peter, I am being safe. This campus has free condoms in every building." Joking! I can't help it. I blame this bad habit on my bestie, Harper, who is the worst at joking.
Peter's eyes widen, and I think he might be having a stroke, judging by the way his left eye is blinking.
"Jesus," he mutters, the frustration all too evident. “I told you no more jokes. I swear, I'm going to hunt Harper down after this and beat her ass."
I can't help but let out a snort of laughter. "Knowing Harper, she'd probably find that a turn-on.”
Peter does this awkward swallow, his eyes darting to the floor as if he's suddenly found his shoes fascinating.
"We're not having sex," I add with a smirk, knowing Harper would be rolling with laughter over this conversation.
"Keep it that way."
"I will," I promise, until I'm ready.
"He makes you happy?" Peter finally looks at me again.
I bite my lip, lost in thought. One of the hottest guys in school is showing interest in me – this should send waves of excitement through me, right?
It does, to an extent. It's not a whirlwind of love at first sight, but a stirring of attraction certainly simmers beneath the surface.
“Yeah, he does," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.
"I just want you to be happy," Peter says softly, pulling me into a side hug and kissing the top of my head. His arms hold me tight. He's stressed, but I need him to trust that I'm going to make the right decisions.
The rumors about Andrew's family are old money rumors fueled by curiosity and a love for storytelling. The thing about gossip is that some of it sprouts from seeds of truth, while other parts grow from weeds of lies.
All the crazy whispers I hear are just that. Lies.
Chapter 2
Poppy
Four months later
"Not again," I whisper, the words barely escaping my trembling lips. Are those my eyes staring back at me? They are so red and swollen that each new tear I shed feels like a paper cut.
I can’t see clearly. I feel like a sailor lost at sea, trapped in a ghostly fog.
