Pepper never meant to lose her best friend. Lucas never meant to fall in love.
Yet the aftermath of broken hearts leads them to blur the lines of their friendship forever. When Pepper is dumped by her boyfriend and Lucas is led on by his crush, they...
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"ACCORDING TO THE GUIDE, you made an oath allowing me to make all fashion decisions for you."
"I did not." I glance over Pepper's shoulder. Sure enough, in my crappy fourteen-year-old scribble, those exact words are engraved in yellowing paper. I snatch the decrepit composition notebook from her and skim over the other things I listed.
"See?" she proclaims cheerily, swinging her legs back and forth behind her as she snuggles a furry pink pillow in her arms. "Even the younger version of you knew that my fashion advice was impeccable."
"Hmph." I point at another rule a few lines down. "It also says find a way to make my Pokémon cards look cool, so she wouldn't think I was a loser."
Pepper smacks her hand over her mouth as laughter slips through, but amusement so clearly dances around her eyes. "I forgot you had a Pokémon phase," she muffles.
"Yeah, a lot of things have changed. I can't believe you actually kept this stupid book. It's so embarrassing." When I collapse backward in her bed, my arm brushes against her skin and shivers ease through my body. I ignore the sensation and hold the notebook over my head. "I can't believe I actually thought these things could work."
Careful not to touch me, Pepper slides off the queen-sized mattress as if she can't get away from me fast enough. She bottles up next to her nightstand and pretends to find lint on the shade of her neon pink lamp that so desperately needs to be picked off.
The move is odd, different from the comfort we've shared today. I convinced her that things were normal between us so she could be around me without feeling uneasy. I even offered to help her get Mason back.
It's nothing.
"Why do you have this notebook?" I question, attempting to mask the disappointment bubbling inside me.
"Well, I like to keep it because it reminds me of how cute you used to be."
My stomach flips and I'm trapped in her innocent allure. She's running her fingers through her curls, stretching them past her shoulders. It's only when she notices my staring do I realize that my ultimate decision has been made despite giving myself the illusion of an option.
I want her to think that I'm cute right now.
Her expression is questioning, asking why I find myself so suddenly fascinated with her. "What? I think everything is cute, right?" She's mocking me, attempting to discard the intensity of my gaze.
"I'm sorry." I sit up and close the notebook on my lap. With a closed notebook, I shut my hesitation in a box and seal it tight. Something has to be done. A choice has to be made. I search for an answer in my next words. "I didn't mean to stare at you like that. I just think you're cute too, so..."
This succeeds in making her scowl and she angles herself away from me, becoming invested in lampshade dust again. "Well, you better think I'm cute. I put a lot of effort into my looks, you know?" Her words are so fragile despite holding her usual spark.
