Hoax in One

| 01 |

Three Years Later

One downside to being a ball of sunshine? For me, it went hand in hand with being a people pleaser.

People Pleasing 101: smile.

And I was doing what every textbook people pleaser would do in my situation—smiling like an idiot and drinking whiskey to numb my pain.

As long as you're smiling, people think you're happy. And my smiles had always been genuine—like rainbow sprinkles—but sometimes people break you.

No one noticed though because I was still smiling, dammit. Even though I was watching my ex-boyfriend flirt with my friend. Even though I was watching her flirt back. Even though they were dating.

Why was it so easy for either one of them to do that to me?

My throat tightened as I watched them from the kitchen on the gray oversized couch. They came in and out of view as the party moved around them. Her long legs were across his lap, and he slipped his hand around her thigh while she threw her head back and laughed—but I was still smiling.

So it had been a while since we dated, and I didn't want him anymore. So I told her it was all right if she liked him.

I really did tell her that so many times.

I had no clue why she would want him anyway.

And you can't blame me. That's what people pleasers do. We make life for everyone around us better. No matter how we feel inside. We want people to be happy, despite our own feelings. We sacrifice our own selves to see other people smile for real.

He was supposed to have been different. But of course, he wasn't. They never are.

And it still sucked. Why did it still suck?

I leaned onto the island, my elbows on the cold granite, and looked into my half-full (or maybe half-empty) drink.

Why did I even come to this back-to-school football party? I knew he'd be there. But my life was surrounded by student athletes, even though I wasn't one. I'd worked as the student photographer for the athletic department since my second semester of freshman year. Every single one of my friends and exes played a sport for Southern Florida.

"You're an idiot," Millie said next to me, confirming my exact thoughts.

"You can't just say whatever you want because you're edgy," I coughed out as the bourbon burned my throat. I eyed her beautiful auburn hair with a small section of the left side shaved and her long waves cascading down her right shoulder. One of those things that I had always thought only worked on celebrities, but I was wrong. It worked on Millie. "That's not how it works. Besides, your name is Millicent. Not very edgy."

"That doesn't change the fact that you're an idiot, Devin. As your only best friend now, I have a right to tell you that. How could you tell her over and over you were okay with it when you're not? And don't call me that."

I kept drinking while Millie put her elbow next to mine, rested her head against her hand, and stared at Matt and Alice.

"I mean, look at them," she continued, stirring her mystery punch and ignoring me. Then Millie barked at me when I started to turn. "No! Don't actually look at them."