Secrets

39 | hadley

I feel like I'm living a dream as I glance around my room, which is full of pretty girls in pretty outfits.

I smile to myself as I survey the scene. Clover stands behind Mason as she sits before my vanity, helping with her hair. Grace and Bianca take turns doing one another's makeup, laughing loudly amongst themselves. Sloane stands a little to the left, studying her reflection closely. My friends are definitely the most beautiful people in the world; this is a fact I'm certain of.

A gentle knock on the door disturbs me from the excruciating process of finishing my makeup. I call to allow the guest into the room, watching as the door parts to reveal my mother.

She smiles as she steps into my room cautiously, as if wondering if her presence is somehow disruptive. I wave to calm her nerves. My friends all greet her cordially, and my mother exchanges some small talk before heading my way.

I'm hit with a case of déjà vu as I meet my mother's gaze in the mirror. She eyes me with awe as she takes in my reflection, beaming as she rests a gentle hand on my shoulder. For a moment, I'm transported back in time, recalling the night of my junior homecoming dance. Things with my mom had been much more rocky then, but this small moment of similarity reminds me that there is nothing in the world that can get in the way of my mother's love for me–even if sometimes she may have difficulty showing it.

"Hi," Mom murmurs shyly. "I was wondering if maybe you'd want some help with your hair?"

I'm grinning as I hold my mother's stare. "I'd like that."

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"We look hot," Mason notes as the six of us stand before the full-length mirror in my room, observing ourselves as we take selfie after selfie.

"Fact," Clover agrees, smirking as she adjusts the lapel of the suit jacket she's wearing.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't agree. The six of us have done an excellent job preparing ourselves for the dance tonight, decked out in dresses, suits, and two-pieces, our faces painted to perfection.

I try my best to swallow down the sadness I'm feeling within, wanting to make the most of the lipstick I've put on by wearing a permanent smile. However, I can't shake the feeling that something is missing. Devon should be here, getting ready with the rest of us. Instead, she's hundreds of miles away, doing Lord knows what. I tell myself to have a good time, despite knowing the better half of me is nowhere in sight.

Mason must be able to sense my dejection, as she loops a tanned arm around my shoulder as she shoots me a gentle look. "Tonight is going to be great," she whispers to me.

I nod, though I can't say I fully believe her.

"Thanks again for inviting me," Sloane mutters shyly from where she stands next to Clover, furthest from me on the left. "I've had a lot of fun so far."

Something about the way she's blushing and the bashful way Sloane averts her gaze from anyone softens me within. This situation isn't exactly ideal–spending homecoming night with my ex instead of my girlfriend–but it's the least I could do to make Sloane feel welcome. I couldn't just let her spend the night at home alone. We may not be as close as we once were, but I'm not heartless.

"Of course," I chirp brightly.

"Seriously," Sloane continues, holding my stare intently. "It means a lot."

I'm unsure of what to say next, so the best I can come up with is a thin smile.

Mason interrupts the growing tension by reaching for her phone as it dings with a notification, her face lighting up as she exclaims, "Kai said he's here! You guys ready to go?"

I gather my things with the rest of the girls, making sure I have everything I need as the others begin to make their way out of the door. As I'm placing my phone in my bag, I notice Sloane lingering by my side, as if there's something on her mind. I glance up at her curiously, giving her freedom to speak.

"You really didn't have to do this," she mutters in a hushed tone, glancing at the girls as they exit the room, as if hoping they don't overhear. "I totally understand if you'd rather I stay ho–"

I shake my head as a means to stop Sloane short. I reach for her hand as I force a smile and explain, "Nobody deserves to miss out on a high school experience. You've never been to a school dance before! Stop worrying. I swear it'll be fun."

Sloane purses her lips, eyes trained on the carpet beneath her feet. I can tell something's bothering her–you don't love someone the way I loved her and just forget all of their quirks.

I shove Sloane's arm lightheartedly. "What? You don't trust me anymore?"

Sloane exhales a laugh. "It's not that . . . I guess it's just . . ." Sloane shrugs, red in the face as she struggles to come up with words to express what she's feeling. "I've just missed you, Hadley."

I'm not sure how to handle this confession, though my chest warms slightly. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel the same to some degree–I don't miss Sloane romantically, no. But it's been nice reconnecting with her in little ways. I could see the two of us being close friends once more.

"I've missed you, too," I admit softly. Without thinking, I pull Sloane into an embrace, hesitating in her arms for a moment before letting go.

I clear my throat before she can get a word out–hoping she won't read too much into the gesture. I take her hand in mine, grinning as I say, "Come on! We have a dance to get to!"

Sloane giggles as I lead her down the stairs, the two of us talking amongst ourselves as we wobble down the wooden steps in our tall heels. She clings to my hand as she stumbles, which has both of us instantly cracking up.

I'm not focusing on how warm her body feels against mine. I'm not thinking about how sweet her perfume smells, wafting into the air around me and clouding my senses. And I'm definitely not remembering all the times I've held her hand just like this before, back when she and I–

Lost in thought, I find myself tripping. Sloane catches me before I can roll all the way down the stairs, clutching me tightly. I gaze up at her for a moment, wandering in her intricate hazel eyes. I'm not sure what's going on, but a tension like static electricity sparks between us–a spiraling feeling taking place that seems out of my control.

I'm dizzy as I tear my eyes away from Sloane's stare, forcing myself to look down at the bottom of the stairwell. My stomach churns as I struggle to push away whatever delusion just came over me.

As my sight clears, I find myself staring into an all too familiar pair of warm brown eyes. My heart rate spikes in my chest as I take in the figure, blinking to be certain I'm not dreaming.

Devon.

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a/n: i was not going to update again tonight but then my girlfriend begged me to post the next part for her to read so jordanfennell  here you go