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My Sweet Bully

Page 49

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Amy leans over and takes a drink from the fountain. “I hate to burst whatever bubble you put him in, but Max has never really been much of a talker, or a people person for that matter,” she says, wiping her mouth with the back of her wrist. My expression falls flat as I drop my eyes to the floor. Amy places her hand on my shoulder, trying to comfort me. “I’m sorry, Prairie, don’t listen to me. Forget I said anything. Seriously, no one should listen to me, I never know what I’m talking about. Really, I’m sorry, I don’t want to make you feel bad.”

“It’s fine, you don’t need apologize for anything. I think I’ve always known what you’ve told me about him, I just didn’t want to see it.”

“He’s still coming to prom tonight, right?” she smiles, it’s forced, but I don’t mind. I know she’s just trying to get me to be realistic about who Max is.

But he says he loves me. That has to mean something.

My heart flutters in my chest, thinking about the look in his eyes when told me those three little words.

Three little words that mean nothing when said separately.

Three little words that have no weight unless combined.

‘I love you.’ I hear his voice inside my head.

Shaking him away, I answer Amy, “I think so. I haven’t seen him today though. Have you?” Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I send him a text.

‘We’re still on for tonight, right?’ Hitting send, I wait, watching the screen as the little dots move, letting me know he’s typing.

“Actually, I haven’t. I don’t think I’ve seen him in a day or two.”

She’s right, he hasn’t been to school much at all, not since his brother got home. And there’s more too.

He won’t kiss me while we’re out together, he won’t hold my hand. He hasn’t even told me he loves me again, even though I’ve said it to him a few times. He just smiles and tells me he knows.

There’s no spark in his eyes. They’ve turned into dull emeralds. Lackluster, cold. It feels like he’s constantly looking over his shoulder every time we’re together, and I don’t know why.

‘Yeah, I said I would.’ His text pops up on my phone.

“He says yes,” I tell Amy. Typing him back quickly, I hold the phone in my palm.

‘Pick you up at six. Sound good?’

The dots roll, and my phone vibrates as his message comes through. ‘Meet you there. I have a few things to do this afternoon.’

Holding my phone out so Amy can read the message, I ask, “Should I be worried?”

Folding her mouth into a relaxed frown, she brushes it off. “Nah, I wouldn’t worry. He said he’ll meet you there.” Her frown quickly turns into a bright smile. “But that means we can go together now. Come to my house and get ready, I’ll just have Ben meet me there too. We’ll go together. It’ll be fucking sweet,” she says with excitement. Reaching out her hand, she grabs my arm and squeezes.

I just stare at my phone. There are no more dots dancing at the bottom of my screen. He isn’t writing back.

No love you too, I’ll see you soon.

I’m losing him.

Maybe he’s already gone?

I can’t stand the pit in my gut at the thought. But the signs are hard to ignore.

“I gotta get to class,” Amy says. “I’ll see you later.”

I throw her a wave and watch her as she skips down the hall. She’s right; it’ll be fun to get dressed up together. The hair, the makeup, the dress and heels. I’m being as positive as possible.

The rest of the day drags as usual. Math and French seem to last forever as I watch the clock. When the final bell rings, I dart to my car, and drive home to get my stuff for the dance.

Draping my dress across the back seat, I set my makeup case on the floor, and climb in the front. The drive to Amy’s is quick, only about ten minutes.

She’s standing in the front door, jittery and bouncing as she flags me inside. “I love that dress! It looked so good on you the first time you tried it on. I knew it was perfect for you. Are you excited?”

“I am,” I say with a big smile.

It’s hitting me now. The butterflies, the knots, the weight in my belly.

It’s prom. What’s more exciting and romantic than that?

Amy and I slip into our dresses and do each other’s hair. Hers is half up, with tight spiral curls around her face. I go with an up-do, keeping it slightly loose so strands fall out on their own.

I shade my lids with rose petal pink, and a splash of sparkles. A light gloss coats my lips, and the bronze highlights contour the curves of my face.



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