❝I think you're my favorite person.❞
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Since childhood, Lila's had her mind set on what she wants. And now in her senior year, that's getting into West Michigan State University. But her overbearing...
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I STILL FEEL bad about holding out on Chase with my mom's message.
She had told me to invite him over for dinner, but he'd been with Grace, and I didn't want to dump that on him. Not to mention I could feel—or maybe hoped—that he was slowly starting to grow more comfortable around me.
I didn't want to butcher that because my mom likes my fake boyfriend more than I do.
I couldn't.
And I don't know why. We're hardly friends—three weeks ago, I'm almost ninety percent sure he didn't even know my name, and now...now things have changed. I think.
I actually look forward to seeing him. I like that I have a friend again. Maybe a little too much, I'll admit.
And I will do anything to make sure I don't harm our new friendship. Even if that means lying to my mom and saying he wasn't feeling well.
It made sense in my head—at least at the time. Chase's business was hardly mine—so no way could it be my mother's.
And I knew it would be if I had invited him over with his little sister and her big brown eyes. Mom would have a party.
And even though I had managed to escape her questions yesterday, that didn't stop her from coming to me this morning and telling me to ask if Chase was feeling any better so that he could come over tonight instead.
And I'd had no choice but to agree, knowing if I didn't it would look way too suspicious.
I stuff my head into my locker, groaning.
"Hey, Matthews," I lift my head to see a boy with his arm wrapped around a girl's shoulders nodding his head in my direction.
He walks away casually, as if we've known each other for a long time and always address each other that way. But that can't be true because I have no idea who he is.
My only guess is that he's on the varsity football team, judging off the varsity jacket he has on. And he looks sort of familiar, but not familiar enough I can place a name to his face.
My eyes widen instantly and I turn my gaze back to my sticker-decorated locker, quickly grabbing the last of my textbooks and practically sprinting out of the hallway.
I run a hand through the ends of my hair, turning in the direction of AP Lang when I run into Chase.
