Keep (Seaside Pictures 2)
Mags smacked me on the back of the head. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“Because.” I removed my glasses and shakily put them back on, only to have her frown and pull them off my face then drop them onto the ground and literally crunch them to pieces beneath her boot.
“Oops.”
“MAGS!” I yelled. “THAT WAS MY LAST PAIR!”
“Nope.” She stood and grabbed my arm, pulling me to my feet. “You know my dad’s your eye doctor, and I happen to know he has a pretty empty schedule this morning. We’re going to get you contacts.”
“But—”
“Not for all the time, because I know it’s still hard for you to touch your own eye, but we’re going to do a mini makeover. Who knows? Maybe it will make you brave.”
“I need more than new contacts to make me brave.”
“I know.” Mags grinned smugly. “What are best friends for?”
“You had that same look in your eyes before you pushed me off the boardwalk.”
“Exactly.” She nodded. “So trust me.”
“I trusted you then, and ended up in a tabloid.”
“I don’t see the problem here.” She giggled and shoved me toward the blurry door. “After the contacts, we’re texting him to meet you on the beach. At the bonfire.”
“What bonfire?”
“Keep up!” She cackled, and I had no choice but to either follow or get hit by oncoming traffic.
I KNEW I SHOULDN’T have listened to her.
But listen I did.
All it took was five hours for Mags to lose her mind and mine right along with it because I was actually starting to feel better.
And all she did was crunch my glasses, give me a trendier pair and contacts to go with.
The hardest part was getting the contacts in, but once my eyes stopped watering, I liked what I saw.
And the fact that I could actually see was a huge plus as well.
“You have huge eyes.” Mags wrapped an arm around me as we walked out of one of the shops. “I never knew until now, but it’s a totally good thing, they’re really pretty.”
“Thanks.” I smiled up at her and then rolled my eyes. “You’re waiting for me to say you were right, aren’t you?”
“Eh, I don’t need you to say it, I know in here.” She pounded her chest and then gave me a playful shove. “Now go put on that cute little black sundress and ankle boots.”
“It’s forty degrees,” I pointed out. “And raining.”
“It’s always forty degrees and raining. That’s our winter.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s why we got the sweater to go with.” I hesitated, the bag still in hand. We were at her beach house right next to the Prom, which just so happened to be next to the bonfire we were apparently having later that night.
“Do it.” She clapped her hands.
I slipped the dress over my head, it wasn’t like it was out of my comfort zone to wear a dress, I mean I wore dresses, just not often, so it wasn’t makeover the frumpy girl day. Dresses just seemed inconvenient.
But boots, I loved boots.
Those were an easy buy for me.
And makeup? Eh, I added some lip-gloss and mascara and just went with it.
Finally, finishing my outfit with a black and white striped beanie to cover my unruly wavy brown hair.
“Chic.” She winked. “Okay, now run along, catch your man.”
“You’re not coming?”
“The bonfire is already set up, I told my brother I’d do the dishes for a month if he made the fire extra big and got the giant bag of marshmallows.”
“A MONTH? You hate doing dishes.”
“I crossed my fingers behind my back.” She winked again. “Now go!”
I took a deep breath and walked out the front door, ready to apologize, ready to accept anything, even if it was just friendship.
With high hopes that the dress would at least be a distraction from the norm so he’d be more likely to say yes.
Nerves attacked me when I thought about how I’d lied to my parents about staying the night with Mags.
Well, technically it was true. I was going to stay with her after I hung out with Zane—but if he offered—if he wanted to hang out all night and watch the waves, I wasn’t going to say no. Not to him. Not anymore.
And I think a part of my mom realized that, when I walked out the door that afternoon and told her my plans, she was quiet for a few minutes before finally nodding and telling me to be safe.
Well.
Here went nothing!
Chapter Twenty-Five
Zane
I TOOK A BREAK from her, not because I was still angry or even upset, but because suddenly the music wouldn’t stop coming. I turned to music, as I always did, only this time, it wasn’t my savior.
It was my sanity.
The more I sang, the more grounded I felt.
The more grounded I felt, the more I thought about things from her perspective.
And I felt like a dick.
Because what did I expect? To sweep her off her feet and tell her that despite what millions of people around the world said about me—it wasn’t true.
I wanted her.
Yet, look at any Google search of my name.
And I was at the Grammys with supermodels.
Supermodels who thought a full meal was an ounce of almonds and a bite of cheese.
I was asking a lot for someone who was normal. And after Alec sat me down and basically told me I was inhuman after all the songs I managed to record, I realized, maybe, I wasn’t as normal as I’d like to think I was.