The Relationship Pact(25)

The summer that Bellamy and I spent at her grandma’s house changed me in a deep, molecular-level way. I needed to be surrounded by life and colors and calm to survive the disruptions in my life during those months. My heart craved that peace. It was desperate for it. And now that I know what can deliver that kind of respite from life’s stresses, I want to be able to bring that to others.

It’s a secret I stumbled onto and one that I can share with the world.

I rock back and forth in my chair, relishing in the idea of the future, and make the mistake of looking over my shoulder. Instantly, I’m reminded of my very real first world problem of not knowing what to wear.

Better to overdress and impress than underdress and obsess, my mom says.

“This time, you just might be right,” I say out loud.

I get to my feet and grab my phone. I press Bellamy’s number.

“Hey,” she chirps after barely the first ring.

“Hey, Bells.”

“What’s up?”

“Well … I was wondering if it would be okay if I wear that turquoise dress that I borrowed from you a while back. Do you know the one?” I glance at the fabric draped on the hanger across the room. “It’s a wrap dress that has a very faint cream-colored checkered design on it.”

“I forgot you had that.”

I laugh. “It must be really hard to have so many clothes that you don’t know what you’re missing.”

“Oh, like you have any room to talk.”

I roll my eyes. “So can I wear it? I mean, I could’ve just put it on, and you wouldn’t have known, but I thought I’d ask first.”

“I don’t care. I didn’t even know I didn’t have it, so it’s not like I’m attached.” She smacks her lips together as she eats something. “Where are you going?”

The thought of saying Hollis’s name makes me smile. The idea of being with him again makes me shiver. The realization that I’m going to have to tell my best friend what’s going on has me bracing myself because she’s not going to just gloss over it.

There’s no way.

“I’m just helping out a friend and going to dinner with them,” I say as breezily as I can manage.

Bellamy reads right through my attempt at evasion.

“And who might your friend be? Because it’s not me. And not that I’m your only friend or anything, but I do feel like I would know if you had plans to go to dinner with someone.”

Her tone is teasing but pointed enough for me to know she’s going to press until she has an answer. There’s also enough of a smugness to tell me that she already knows the answer.

I hold back a laugh. “You’ll be pleased to know that I took your advice.”

“This is starting off strong.”

“Your girl over here talked to her mother about Jack’s event and put my foot down. I told Mom that she wouldn’t be picking out my date. Period.”

She pauses. “So, you’re going alone?”

“I didn’t say that.”

She sighs before smacking her lips together again.

“What are you eating?” I ask.

“Cheetos. The hot ones. My mouth is on fire.”

I laugh.

“Don’t try to distract me,” she says. “I know where this is going, but I’m going to make you tell me.”

“Why?” I whine, hoping I’d managed to get away with not telling her. It’s not a big deal. But just in case things don’t work out the way I imagine, it would be easier not to have to explain it to Bellamy later.

“Because it’s more fun that way,” she says. “Also, I knew this whole thing between the two of you wasn’t over last night.”

“What are you talking about? There’s no whole thing between me and anyone.”

“You might be able to trick yourself or him or your mother or whoever, but you aren’t going to trick me.”

“I’m not trying to trick anyone,” I tell her, slipping out of my jeans.

“Good. Because I saw you with the hottie last night. I saw the way he looked at you like he wanted to eat every part of you and—”

“Ew!”

“Don’t ew that. You write way too much off too early.”

“Anyway …” I say, trying to distract her.

“Anyway, I saw the way he looked at you and the way you looked at him—which was not a whole lot different than he looked at you, but I’ll keep my descriptions vanilla to protect your innocent little ears.”

I laugh, bobbling the phone between my hands long enough to slip out of my shirt.

“I almost called Boone and bet on how long it would take you to see him again,” she says. “But I got distracted by Suit.”

“How’d that go?”

“It went. He accidentally called me late last night, and I purposely picked up. We talked for a bit, and then he came by and stayed for a while. I’ll let you fill in those blanks,” she says, sighing. “But he left before dawn. I probably won’t see him again.”

I make a face. “And why not? Was he weird?”

“No. He was fine,” she says, brushing him off like a crumb off her shoulder. “Just not for me.”