Page 47

My vision starts closing in from the edges, and my stomach twists. My mouth starts watering in a warning. Whether it’s the alcohol, or the news, or both, I’m going to be sick.

“I’ve got to…” I force out, making a break for the door.

I rush down the hall to the bathroom and stop at the sink, gasping.

Jordy cheated on me.

No. He cheated on her.Withme.

He cheated onus.

All of it. The months I gave to him. The parts of myself I cautiously handed over, trusting him with sides of me I rarely show to anyone. The kisses, and the first times, and the knowledge that once we were us, Skye and Jordy, unstoppable and special. It was all. A godforsaken. Lie. A fuckinglie.

It’s me. I’m the villain, here. Oh my god, I stole someone’s boyfriend. And then I told her to get over it. I called her a liar, to her face. I told the girls she’s a liar. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.

How many times have I told friends there are two sides to every story? How many times have I raised a skeptical brow when girls are called names like psycho, or manipulative, or clingy? Only to turn around and do it myself, because why? Because I wanted to believe that I was special. Thatmysituationwas different. That I was simply defending Jordy and myself against someone who wanted to hurt us. Did Jordy ever even care about me? Was any of it even real? How can I know, if he can lie so easily? He lied to me. He’s lying to me right now. He lied to Maya.

I should’ve known. I should’veknown.There is a reason I don’t do second chances, and this is it. People don’t grow and become better. If they hurt you once, they will continue to hurt you.

The truth is, Jordy and I didn’t part mutually. He left the country, and he ghosted me, and Iknewthat until I heard his voice on the phone, denying my version of reality. Insisting that, outside of a few messages, he never heard from me, despite desperately wanting to. Messages that heignored.

This whole construction of it being the right person, wrong time? I wanted, so desperately, to believe it was true, that I’d bought it. I’d believed that maybe things could be different, because Jordy was different. But of course they couldn’t. Things are never different. And this red-hot agony, this feeling of being ripped apart right down the middle? I brought this on myself. Iknewthis was where it would lead, and I refused to listen to my own logic. I knew better than this.

Gasping, I splash water on my face, then drink some from the tap to try to settle my stomach. My throat feels like the Sahara.

Okay.I look at myself in the mirror, panting for breath.Focus. Game plan.

The game plan is fairly obvious. I’m going to get the heck out of here. Tomorrow. And if they say I can’t leave… well, I will threaten to tell the paperseverything,as soon as filming finishes. They’ll have to let me go then. They can fly me to London, and I can video call Chloe, and Dad, and talk about this with people who will understand, not some random girlsI barely knew existed before yesterday. Then I can bury this feeling in some great food, and travel, and I’ll… I’ll go to a club and make out with a person or ten, and I’ll forget I ever cared a fraction about Jordy Miller.

When I go back to the room, Maya’s already in bed, under the covers. I sit on the edge of her bed, and she props herself up. Her eyes are suspiciously puffy and pink.

“So, now you know for sure,” she says.

I nod. We sit in an extended silence, basking in the awkwardness. I know what I need to say, but it’s torture to get it out.

“I am so, so sorry,” I say finally. “If I’d known, I never would’ve done it. I know that’s no excuse, but—”

“It’s actually a pretty good excuse,” she says over me. “What were you supposed to do? Figure it out by doing a tarot reading? He played us. It’s what he does.”

“But I should’ve noticed. He was messaging you, and going to see you, there must have been signs—”

“You didn’t even know him then. Like, barely, anyway. You couldn’t have known he was acting weird, because you didn’t have anything to compare it to.”

“I’m trying to apologize.”

“And I’m telling you that you don’t need to.” She traces her chin with a finger. “Actually, I should apologize to you. Jordy told me you knew everything when he dumped me, but I shouldn’t have believed him. That’s on me. So,I’msorry for how I acted yesterday.”

“You’re sorry you didn’t believe me?” I echo in disbelief. “Maya. I’m sorry I didn’t believeyou.”

“I’m used to it,” she says.

That’s even worse.

“I wish I believed you before I saw the messages,” I say simply.

“Yeah, me, too. But I get why you didn’t. I really do.” She frowns down at her blanket, then glances up at me through pale lashes, all traces of the day’s mascara long gone. “Are you okay?”

“Me?”