A Perfect Fit

10

Isabelle

"Guess it's just the two of us now, Isabella."

His words repeat in my head before I finally register what had just happened. Craning my neck around, I see Aaron and Jen sprinting off into the wild like two excited school kids.

"I can't believe Aaron and Jen just set us up like that!" I exclaim, turning my attention back to Jackson.

Jen, my best friend, out of all people!

Jackson snickers and reaches for his beer. "You know what they both said last time—that they're on Cupid's side."

"Well, I'm on the anti-Cupid side," I tell him. "And I propose that one of us should leave right now as well."

He casually takes a sip of his drink, before a smug look layers his face. "Mm, nice try. Too bad I paid for this table so I'm not going to be leaving."

I flaunt a fake smile in return. "Charming as always. Well, newsflash—you don't get to kick me out so I'm not leaving either."

"That's more than fine by me," he drawls.

"Guess I'll just have to tolerate your company then."

"And I'll happily entertain yours."

I roll my eyes. "You know, is it actually possible for us to have a productive conversation?"

Jackson cocks his head slightly. "Actually, yes. I have a proposal."

I arch a brow. "A proposal? Where's the ring?"

Obviously, I know he's not referring to the 'offer of marriage' kind of proposal, but I wouldn't miss an opportunity to mess with his head.

"I'm flattered, but it's a bit too premature for that, don't you think?" he quips.

I'm about to fire a comeback at him when my phone vibrates with a new email from Ivy. A whirlpool of uneasy emotions floods my body when I read the subject line, "You're Invited".

"Hang on a sec." I swallow and open up the email. I know I shouldn't be giving any more of my time or energy to Ivy, but there's a small part of me that's clinging to the hope that maybe she changed her mind about having her engagement party on the same day as my fashion show.

Holding my breath, I scroll down until I see the date and time heading in the email, and when I read the words "February 15th"—the same date as my event—a sinking feeling rises in my chest. Of course. Who am I kidding?

A long time ago, Ivy and I were close as sisters, and I'd recalled the days we played dress up together, or when she'd tell me stories and I'd draw pictures to them. Now, that only seems like a faint, distant memory, or an illusion in my mind.

I honestly don't know what I ever did to her to make her so bitter toward me, but I do know that our relationship shifted during high school. She grew distant toward me, but it never made sense to me, because Ivy was the model student and daughter, while I was just me. Clumsy, chaotic Isabelle.

One thing is for sure—she won't be getting an RSVP from me. Not that she probably cares anyway.

A burning sensation forms in my eyes, but I refuse to give in and let even the smallest tear trickle down my face. There is no way I'm going to be crying here, at this very moment—and especially not in front of Jackson.

And so, I put my phone away and glance down, getting ready to put on my best 'I'm okay' face and pretend that everything is fine.

Because it was. It had to be. It always was. At the end of the day, this was my life.