Kiss Off

Chapter 21

I'm spruced up from eyebrow to toe hair, I smell like the sample perfume in a Cosmopolitan magazine, and I'm dressed to dazzle the very eyes from Cooper's skull. In short, I look good. Not even I can deny that. The purple in my dress somehow brings out the faint green specks in my normally dull brown eyes. It wouldn't be my normal choice in dress—especially with the stilt-like heels that match to perfection—but the frills and lace are, for once, a good touch.

My dad whistles when I walk into the living room and he mutes the TV to turn and face me.

"Don't break an ankle," he warns eyeing my shoes with a crease between his brows. "You sure those weren't designed to be used as weapons?"

"What?" I tease. "You should be proud. I chose these especially for my own protection. Keep the guys away and all."

He hums thoughtfully to himself, a finger coming to rest on his chin. "You're right. I'm gonna start making you wear them to school from now on... You know, just in case."

Suddenly the room breaks out into chaos as my brothers come barreling in through the front door.

"Is it on yet?" they ask, bypassing me as they throw themselves onto the couch.

"Off!" My mom shoos, swooping in from the kitchen to wave them off the furniture. "You guys are filthy. What, did you fall into a sewage drain while you were out there?" She shakes her head, sliding a finger under her nose and muttering, "Gosh, you all stink," quietly to herself as she turns in my direction.

A soft gasp leaves her lips and she makes her way toward me and takes a strip of the silky material through her hand. It slips easily from her palm as she examines every aspect of my attire.

"It's perfect, Ev." She smiles, her eyes not yet reaching mine. "When you said purple, I was imagining something dark, like plum. This is stunning though. Well done, daughter. I'm proud." She wipes a non-existent tear from beneath her eye and chuckles at her own dramatics.

A knock on the door signals Cooper's arrival and I subconsciously smooth down my dress. My dad and the boys are completely absorbed in some basketball game now, so I offer my mom a quick goodbye—thankful that my parents have never been the type to demand twenty-minutes of picture-taking prior to events like this—and exit the house.

Cooper is standing on the middle step, his hands shoved in his pockets and his rear end resting against the stair railing. When he lifts his eyes to meet mine, I expect complete awe. I expect him to stare, words failing to be uttered as love fills his blue eyes. I expect to see some kind of emotion spread across his lips, emotions he can't contain because my sheer beauty is so startling and breath-taking.

Instead he grins at me, offers me his elbow and tilts his head toward his awaiting Ford pickup.

"Ready?" he asks, wrapping my arm around his and leading the way.

"Sure."

The walk is silent and I'm doing my best not to regret my decision to go with Cooper. It's awkward. The space between us is tight, suffocating. It's never like this with Cooper. Even after learning about the lies he'd spread or the threats he'd uttered to the male student body, it never felt like this. Like we were two immature children fluttering to make sense of our emotions and fighting the need to giggle in embarrassment every time our fingers brushed. And though I have no flutters in my stomach or rapid thumping in my chest, this moment still feels so rehearsed and unnatural.

Maybe I'm just out of practice. It all feels so new and I already hate it. I already hate that I agreed to this. I hate that my intention was to make him want me more than he'd ever thought he could. I hate that I planned to reject him the very moment he felt a spark of hope for us. I wanted him to think I felt something. I wanted him to believe we could be more. All so I could break his little heart.