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I nod, frowning a little. Why wouldn’t I be?
“Good. Then how about you tell me what happened last night at the party? I heard you and Michael Thompson ended up in the closet together, and that you both left the party early. And separately.”
Blake points her fork at me. “I said nothing to her, I swear. Rumors travel fast around here.”
I shrug, playing it off. “We went in, did nothing, and then I left.” I didn’t realize he did too.
“The two of you didn’t talk?” Kylie cocks an eyebrow.
“We…kind of did, but I wouldn’t say we had a full conversation.” I worry my bottom lip, zeroing in on my drink. I don’t want to get into all the details of my very complicated relationship with Michael. “I haven’t seen or spoken to him in a few years.”
“The tension between you two was through the roof,” Blake comments before shoveling food into her mouth. “Especially after he shut down the flirting between you and Diego.”
My spine snaps straighter, my hackles rising. “I wasn’t flirting.”
Blake pinches the bridge of her nose. “Diego clearly was, and Michael stopped it.”
Warmth creeps up the back of my neck, my skin tingling. I’d forgotten all about what Diego said last night.
“If you and Thompson don’t get along, then why did you go with him into that closet? You could’ve spun the bottle again.” Blake asked me this same question on the way home last night, and I told her I wasn’t in the mood to talk about it.
“It was a challenge, and I’m not one to back down, even if things get nasty or complicated.” I shrug, twirling the straw inside my glass. “I didn’t want to make things weird, and I didn’t want to give people something to talk about.”
Except that’s exactly what I did.
“I hate that the game ruined your night, but it’s a good thing nothing happened between you two.” Kylie pushes her empty plate away from her. “He doesn’t exactly sleep around,” she says, “but he has a reputation.”
I arch a brow. “What kind of reputation?”
“You know.” She waves a hand. “He likes to make out with girls, mess around a little, but never actually date them. And everyone here knows the kind of girl who isn’t his type.”
“Usually, people talk about what the type is, not what it’s not,” Blake says, picking up her drink.
Kylie snorts. “Usually, yeah. But not with Thompson. His rules are practically campus lore: no brunettes, and she has to be at least five four.”
My stomach roils. So, basically, he avoids anyone who looks like me?
A sharp pang shoots through my chest, but I breathe through it and force myself to smile like that information didn’t just flay me open. “Makes sense. His first…crush back in high school was blonde.”
I’m not even sure he and Sienna dated, but they kissed more than once, so it’s easy to assume he at least liked her.
“See?” Kylie sits up straighter, triumphant. “It all checks out. That’s probably why everyone’s still buzzing about him going into that closet with you. No offense, but you’re literally the opposite of his type.”
“They’d be scandalized to know how boring those seven minutes were.” I stir my drink, my knee bouncing under the table. “Honestly, I’d rather not talk about him anymore.”
Kylie winces. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to poke a sore spot. No more Thompson talk, promise. Aside from that game, did you have fun at the party?”
Blake answers first, and while she talks, I tune out, staring absently at my water. I hate how much I care, and even more, I hate that I can’t even fall asleep lately without thinking about him.
Stupid, stupid Isla.
Tonight, it’s finally become clear that the issue wasn’t Sienna. It wasn’t that he broke our pact or didn’t tell me the truth. The problem is that my feelings for him were one-sided. And I don’t ever want to feel that way again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
this is my ex-best friend
ISLA
