Winter’s phone buzzes with a text, but I don’t pay it much mind, too focused on not rolling my eyes along to Nicole and Kendrick’s rehearsed speech. Then, just as we’re about to start eating, we’re stopped by a knock on the door.
My mom lifts off her seat. “Are we expecting someone?”
“Sit down, Mom. I got it.” I beat her to the door. Expecting a stranger to try to sell me something, I swing the door open and—
What
The
Fuck.
Why is Haze Adams standing on my porch? He steps inside before I can slam the door in his face.
Sure, just make yourself at home.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Haze says.
It seems to happen in slow motion. He locks eyes with Winter across the room, and the look she gives him sets my suspicions ablaze. She’s mad, panicked… flustered? I knew Winter was fraternizing with the enemy, but this is miles past “fraternizing.” Something is definitely going on between those two.
“I hope you didn’t start without me.” Haze flashes us his million-dollar smile. I may hate the guy, but I have to admit I do get the hype about him.
Winter settles on an emotion.
Anger.
Full-on anger.
He wasn’t supposed to show up, that much is clear. I glance at Kendrick, who’s staring daggers at Haze. I know them to be nemeses in the ring. Odds are Haze is only doing this to piss off my brother—and, by the looks of it, it’s working.
My mom cuts in. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
Haze peels his eyes away from Winter. “Of course, where are my manners? I’m Haze.” He holds out his hand, which my mom shakes hesitantly.
Glimpsing at Winter from the corner of his eye, Haze smirks. Winter bounces to her feet. She knows him. She knows he’s going to say something stupid, but she’s too late.
The damage is done.
“I’m Winter’s boyfriend.”
Yep. She’s going to kill him.
“Honey, why didn’t you tell me?” My mom rejoices, pulling my cousin into a loving embrace. “I knew something was going on. That’s why you were so secretive. You’ve met your first boyfriend.”
I’m so unbelievably drained from the shitstorm that is my life, I don’t even care that Winter didn’t heed my warnings about this guy. I’m not even mad that Haze crashed our dinner.
Hell, I’m entertained.
Where’s the popcorn?
Haze pouts. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell them about us, babe. I thought we were official.”
“Please, give me your coat. Welcome to my home,” my mom requests. Haze gives it to her with a “thanks.”
“What’s wrong, honey bunny? No kiss?” Haze turns to Winter. She cringes at the cheesy nickname, to Haze’s great satisfaction
He’s so proud of himself.
“Of course. I’ll give it to you in a second. I just have to show you the thing first.” Winter’s jaw is tight, her grin so forced it looks painful.
“What thing?” he asks.
“You know that thing that I talked to you about the other day?”
“Aren’t you eating with us?” my mom worries.
“We’ll be back. Start without us,” Winter says, dragging Haze out of sight. I hear their footsteps thumping up the stairs.
Then her bedroom door closes.
Ah, shit.
Show’s over.
I’m turning up on Morgan’s front porch an hour later. Dinner ran longer than I thought. At least, Winter’s “boyfriend” made for a much more interesting evening.
Inhaling a jerky breath, I knock on the Jameses’ front door with one hope only: that I can salvage whatever mess Zoey made of my friendship with Morgan today.
“Coming!” Morgan calls from inside.
Footsteps.
The door opens.
Morgan appears on the other side, her hair up in a messy bun. Her reading glasses, sweatpants, and cropped hoodie complete her bookworm look. I notice the pen tucked behind her ear. She was probably filling out crossword puzzles—I know, my best friend is an eighty-year-old woman trapped in the body of a teenager. At first, her lack of a reaction worries me.
Until she pulls me into a hug.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers.
My shoulders unwind.
“You know about what happened?” I assume.
Morgan chuckles. “Nope. No clue, but I’ve watched you put up with Zoey’s shit for so long, if you’re done with her, it must be something big.”
“Wait, she didn’t tell you?” I break away from her.
I’m surprised Zoey passed on the opportunity to ruin my life.
“She just fed me a bunch of BS about you falsely accusing her of sleeping with Blake. Said that she was done with you, but I know her, and I know you. I didn’t buy it for a second.”
“So, you’re not mad at me?”
“Mad at you?” She looks at me like I’m mental. “Kass, I only hung out with her to hang out with you.”
I could cry when she says that. Come to think of it, Morgan and Zoey never made plans that didn’t include me. Meanwhile, I’d hang out with Morgan alone on a regular basis. I’ve known Morgan four years, while I’ve known Zoey for thirteen.
This just goes to show that how long you’ve known someone doesn’t mean squat. The person you met a few days ago might just be the one to pull out the knife your oldest friend drove into your back.
“I guess that means I can finally say it.” She closes her eyes as though she wants to relish in it. “God, I hate that bitch.”
We both break into laughter.
“Get in here.” She sidles aside to let me in. Her house is the same it’s always been: clean, quiet, and empty. Morgan is an only child whose parents are often required to go out of town for work. From the moment she was old enough to stay home alone, her folks trusted her to take care and entertain herself, hence her avid reader lifestyle. She says she doesn’t mind the loneliness, but I think it’s taken a toll on her.
The second we crash onto her bed, Morgan asks about my falling-out with Zoey. I fill her in on everything, from beginning to end: how Zoey slept with Blake
