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“It’s not—”

“You wouldn’t try this hard for anyone else,” Olive says.

I know she’s right. There’s no point in denying it anymore. It’s obvious who I’m going to meet.

My gaze shies away. “Would you stay here for a second?”

She nods.

I race to my room and grab two of the new shirts Laura bought me. With one in each hand, I make my way back to Olive. I hold the shirts up. “Which one do you think looks better?”

She raises an eyebrow and points at herself. “You want my opinion?”

I nod, and she smiles. Then, she tilts her head and analyzes the two shirts. One is a black button down and the other one is plaid. “The black one. It fits your personality more.”

I slip it on over my undershirt and start fastening the buttons. When I reach the top, I look at Olive one more time to see her reaction. I want to make a good impression.

Olive steps closer. “You’re almost there, just—” She unbuttons the top button and then steps back again. “Perfect.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she says. She waves me on. “Go get her.”

I try not to smile, but it’s hard. I haven’t been this excited about something in a very long time. I turn to dash away, but pause, looking back. “Thanks, Olive.”

“You owe me.”

“I know,” I say. I don’t know what I expected Olive to belike when I moved in, but she’s starting to grow on me. I wouldn’t say we’re friends, but she’s alright.

I can’t stand still as I wait for the bus. My foot taps, and I fidget with my fingers. Once I’m seated on the bus, it’s not any better. If anything, it gets worse as we drive. I get off the bus a block away from the bookstore, and my heart is pumping.

I know I said I wouldn’t buy flowers, but I did. I bought her a bouquet of wildflowers. They’re all a little different, but they reminded me of her—of the version of her in my dream.

The bookstore lights shine bright, making it impossible to miss. I take a deep breath, but my chest is tight. I can’t relax no matter how hard I try. This is it. This is where Margo tells me she likes me. This is where I tell Margo I like her back, and that she doesn’t have to keep playing all these games.

I open the door and step inside. A little bell sounds above my head.

At the front of the store, off to the side, is a little desk.

My heart plummets, and I stand there frozen. My mind plays tricks on me. She’s almost Margo, but her eyes are missing the sparkle that lights up Margo’s face every time she speaks.

It’s.

Not.

Margo.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

MARGO

I was wrong. Annie was right. Despite what I originally thought, Daniel is a good guy, and I think they could be good for each other. Officially setting them up is the logical thing to do.

So why don’t I feel good about it?

My stomach is uneasy, and it’s not because I’m sick. It’s because I can’t help but think about him. The way he was so close yesterday. His head on my shoulder. His hand holding mine.

It’s not right. I shouldn’t think about him like this. He’s Annie’s.