Hoax in One

| 14 |

I'd agonized all week about which photo of Tate was my favorite.

They'd used one of mine of him sinking his winning putt in the school newspaper, but it wasn't the one I liked the best.

I decided on the one where his hat wasn't casting shade over his face. He was looking up into the sun, his heterochromic eyes on display, as he watched his ball hit the green on the sixteenth hole. Everything about it was classic Tate—no emotion showing and fully focused.

I'd had it tucked away in my purse ever since I'd heard about the party Seth was throwing at their house.

The one Tate wasn't at.

The one where I was avoiding Matt like the plague, but he still managed to corner me when I came out of the bathroom.

"Boyfriend left you all alone for the week?" he asked after pushing himself off the wall in the hallway.

Too bad they'd had their game at eleven that morning.

"Hey, Matt," I deadpanned and quickened my pace.

He spun me around by the hand and said something I couldn't make out over the speaker blasting to my right.

I can't hear you, I mouthed with a sarcastic hand around my ear.

I never wanted to hear him again really. He repeated himself louder, and I only made out the word you. I found myself daydreaming how nice it would be if I could overlay his voice with static at will and give him polite I-don't-really-give-a-fuck nods until he went away.

He snaked his arms around my waist and pulled me tight into him. I squirmed, trying to make him let go.

"Will you let me talk? Please," Matt said with his cheek on mine.

I dropped my arms by my side. "What?"

"I fucked up, Devin."

I fucked half the cheerleaders, I corrected him in my head and went with, "That's the understatement of the year," out loud instead.

He swayed his hips, bringing mine with his. I tried to root myself to the floor.

"I have always liked you. I know I didn't show you that. I was scared. You were so emotional, so invested, and happy. You did so much for me. I was scared I was going let you down; fuck it up. I self-sabotaged myself, and in the process, I fucked up even more. But I never once didn't like you."

Ugh. I felt my heart soften. I was such a sucker for all of his bullshit. For everyone's bullshit.

"Matt, I never stand up for myself. So I'm going to start. I forgive you, and I'm truly happy for you if you've changed, but you aren't going to change enough for me. Now, let me go."

He pulled back, eyes studying mine, as the bass from the speakers vibrated against my skin. His eyes were glassy, his eyebrows hanging heavy over them. He glanced at my lips, lost in his thoughts, emotions raw in his features.

"If you kiss me, I will slap you."

Matt snapped out of it and released me. He dropped his jaw a millimeter to say something I didn't want to hear. He changed his mind.

Friends? he mouthed.

"Friends." And I smiled because I meant it. I know, I know—but I was back to my usual sparkle.

Seth caught my eye over Matt's shoulder, staring at me like I was the devil in a bubblegum pink dress. I smiled dryly at him too as I stepped around Matt, who was still staring at me in a way I didn't appreciate, and left both of them standing in the middle of our dancing drunk friends.