One-Eighty (Westover Prep 1)

“Dude?” Kyle knocks my shoulder with his. “Why did you lean in like you were going to kiss Mary?”

“Mary?”

He points down the street in the direction Piper went, but the different name isn’t my main focus. Is he blind? There were several girls that have come and gone from the diner since we’ve been here, and yeah, I can see their beauty, but no one compares to Piper, absolutely no one.

“She’s gorgeous,” I tell him. “Why wouldn’t I want to kiss her?”

Kyle snorts. “I realize you don’t remember anything about the people in Westover, but Mary isn’t an option for you.”

I want to argue with him. I’ll do everything in my power to make that girl see how good we could be together. Holding on to the hope that she eventually comes around has been my primary focus since walking into her house last night.

“I mean,” he scrapes his hand over the top of his unruly hair, “I guess you can hit that, but fuck her in the dark and keep it to yourself. You do not want people finding out. You may not have believed me when I told you the first time, but you rule Westover, and there’s no faster way to get knocked off your throne than people finding out you’re messing with her.”

Frowning, I stare at him. If staying on this so-called throne means I have to forget Piper, then I’ll give it up myself.

“Can you take me home?” I ask, rather than argue with him about Piper.

Kyle’s clearly an idiot and standing here while he gives me instructions on how to lead my own damn life isn’t something I’m fond of doing.

“Sure,” he claps me on the back, “come on.”

“You said Piper was gorgeous,” Kyle starts once we’re back in his truck. “You don’t even know gorgeous. Let’s get some of the crew together at your house. We’ll invite all of our friends and the hottest girls from school. You’ll see how easy it is to score then.”

“I’m not trying to score,” I mumble, not loud enough for him to hear over the pounding music coming from the radio.

He bops his head back and forth like he’s auditioning for a music video. As much as I like the beat blaring through the speakers, I sit idle in my seat. I don’t want to be anything like this guy, and I kind of already hate the old me if he’s an example of who I was.

“Why my house?” I ask. If he hates Piper, then that means my other friends do too. Piper will be there tutoring Peyton, and I don’t want them to get anywhere near her.

“Really?” He arches an eyebrow but doesn’t take his eyes from the road. “You have a pool.”

“I can’t be the only one with a pool.”

“You have the best pool,” he clarifies. “Plus, your sister is hot.”

“No,” I snap. “Stay the fuck away from my sister.”

I don’t know my sister very well, but she doesn’t seem the type to go for a jerk like Kyle, but I have to get the warning in, regardless.

He smiles wide, but he doesn’t agree—such a damn slimeball.

I don’t know why I finally agree to host a pool party at my house on Friday. Maybe it’s because I’m bored. Maybe it’s because I’m a glutton for punishment. But deep down, I think I’m going to take it as an opportunity to set all these people straight. Maybe Piper will come around if I defend her in front of everyone.

The bad thing about making split-second decisions is that, most often, you regret them, and I want to cancel the plans I made with Kyle before I even make it back inside my house.

When I make it to the top of the stairs, I turn right instead of heading to my room on the left. Peyton’s bedroom door is open, but when I stick my head inside the room, it’s clear she isn’t here. Her windows face to the east, and lucky for me, that means that she has a clear view of Piper’s house.

My eyes focus on the window that has coral-colored curtains. I don’t know if that’s Piper’s room, but it’s highly likely since I know from the dinner visit to her house that her parents’ room is on the main floor.

Leaning forward, I realize that since this is a corner room, exactly like Peyton’s, she has one window on the side and one in the front, so she’s able to see the road and our front yard. I make a mental note of that, already thinking of ways to be seen by her.

“What are you doing?”

I spin around at my sister’s voice. She’s wearing a frown, arms crossed over her chest as if she caught me in here rifling through her things rather than just standing at the window and peering out.