Chapter Four

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Mikaela Martin | Present

We have to go to the football game tomorrow," Annalise exclaims.

I just wrapped up telling my friends about yesterday's gym class. "Uh, no way," I tell her. "He's going to think I'm stalking him or something."

"I actually promised Robbie I'd go," Sarah says softly.

"Are you guys—" Annalise starts way too loudly.

"Kind of, yeah," Sarah whispers. "Shush. You should come with me, Micky. And Annalise."

Liam frowns. "I'm not going. You shouldn't either, Micky. They're all predators." Sarah opens her mouth to protest, and he quickly adds, "Not Robbie, but the rest of them. I'm free Friday. Let's go for a drive."

"Boring," Annalise sighs. "Micky, you're coming with us."

"You going to the game, Mikaela?"

I don't have to look up to know who asked. It's the voice that turns me bright red. The one deeper than most of the male teachers and staff.

"Hey, Peyton. Maybe," I answer, blushing so hard I'm about to combust.

"Yeah, she is," Annalise states firmly.

"Actually, I think we had plans," Liam chimes in forcefully.

"Mikaela's in high demand," Sarah explains to Peyton and an incredibly confused Jake trailing behind him.

"I can see that," Peyton says. His lips curve into that perfect lopsided smile. "Well, I'll be looking for you."

Annalise glares at Liam when Peyton walks away. "You guys can kill the environment another time. She's going to that game."

Liam rolls his eyes. "Whatever Micky wants."

"Micky wants to go to the game," Annalise responds.

In the end, Micky decides she wants to go to the game.

In the end, Micky decides she wants to go to the game

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"I look ridiculous," I mutter. My eyelids are caked in eyeshadow, and my lashes feel like they weigh a million pounds.

"You look hot. Don't insult my handiwork," Annalise snaps. She just wrapped up thirty minutes of face-painting after I caved and said she could try her new mascara on me.

I never wear makeup, so I look like a different person. It's kind of insulting, honestly. I don't know what the heck is going on in Peyton's head, but he picked me out when my eyes were unlined and my nose had yet to be contoured. I don't have the time, patience, or courage to inform Annalise that my feelings are hurt or that Peyton and I think I look perfectly fine, though.

"It's going to look too obvious," I protest instead.

"She does look hot, but she has a point," Sarah says. "You don't want to show up looking thirsty."

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