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“Astrid.” Ty came right behind me. He took hold of my arm, stopping me from getting to my car. The same car where we had sex.

Everything I had been ignoring came rushing back at me. Out of all the places to have sex with him, it had to be on the hood of my car. I could avoid the auto shop forever, but changing cars was not that simple.

“Collin was just?—”

I cut him off before he could finish.

“You know, Ty…” I hated how my tone quivered. “It would be nice if you could have my back instead of his.”

Tyler flinched. I could see the pain in his eyes, but I didn’t care.

What about my pain?

“I really needed you that day,” I said, hating how broken my voice sounded.

“Beautiful.” It was a pained whisper.

“Everyone was mad at me for ruining prom, and you didn’t do anything to stop it.”

I had tears in my eyes, and when I blinked, one of them sprang free. Ty’s eyes looked just as glossy as mine did. “After all this time, it still hurts.”

THIRTY-THREE

Prom Night

Astrid was beautiful.It was something I had come to terms with a long time ago, but I was able to push that fact to the back of my mind—otherwise it would drive me insane.

Tonight it was front and center.

Astrid wasn’t just beautiful, she was a fucking vision.

I was trying so fucking hard not to stare like a creep whenever she walked by me. Her hair was down in pretty waves, and I could catch a shimmer when the light would hit it from a certain angle.

That dress on her—fuck.

I had always thought she was like sunshine, but today she was the whole damn sky. Her dress was blue, with sequins everywhere, making her sparkle at every turn. I literally couldn’t keep my eyes off her.

“Tyyyy.” Samantha’s whinny voice reminded me that I should be focusing on my date and not on my best friend.

“Want to dance?” I pointed toward the makeshift dance floor.

Samantha wrapped her hands around my neck possessively and then proceeded to lead me to the dance floor. Sam was a coolchick, especially when we were alone, but it was when we were around other people that she got clingy and territorial—and that shit annoyed me.

Then I felt like an asshole because I knew the problem wasn’t entirely Sam; the problem was me.

A few dances later, I was sitting down with Sam in my lap while she carried on talking to one of her friends. When she did this, I would usually tune her out, but it was kind of hard to do when she was sitting on me.

“I mean, if I were her, I wouldn’t even bother to show up,” Carrie said.

“She couldn’t even get a date,” Sam added.

At that, I finally began to pay attention to what they were saying.

“Look at her dancing with all the losers.” Carrie laughed, and when I followed her gaze, I realized they could only be talking about Astrid.

My chest tightened, and my stomach churned at their words. Rage coursed through me, but also guilt.

Astrid didn’t have a date because of me.