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Failure!

Failure!

Failure who deserves to get her heart broken again because she’s a weak-willed goddamn

Failure!

“Let it ring,” Rosie says.

“Who’s calling?” Mom asks. Oh, good, she’s finally noticed our looks of unimaginable horror.

“Jordy,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Jordy?” Mom repeats. “Pick up and put it on loudspeaker. I’ll scare him off for good.”

I bite my lip and reach for the phone, then pull my hand back at the last second. “I don’t owe him a no.”

“Definitely not,” Rosie agrees.

“Honestly, I can’t believe he thinks I’d even consider this,” I say.

“He’s a narcissist,” Rosie says. “He probably doesn’t think he did anything wrong. Probably thinks he’s doing you a favor by letting youbask in his brilliance.”

“Maya, let metalk to him,” Mom insists.

I glance back at the phone, hesitating. Then the screen darkens, and the decision is made for me.

“Good,” I say briskly. “Hopefully that’s the last time he tries.”

“Your loss,” Mom says. “I have arealgood speech. I’ve been working on it for two years now.”

Rosie studies my face, frowning. “Are you okay, Maya? If you need someone to step in and tell him to back off…”

I wave a hand. “Nah, I’m fine. Really. They’ll all give up eventually.”

“Tell them half the truth,” Mom says, pouring some milk into her coffee. “You’ve got college coming up.”

Hmm. Iwouldlike to brag about that to Jordy, if just to see his reaction.

“Uh, actually,” I say around a mouthful of oatmeal, “filming would wrap up before college.”

As Gwendolyn reminded me by email no less than three times this week as she begged me to reconsider.

“But it’s not just filming, is it?” Mom asks as she stirs. “You’ll have interviews, and photoshoots, and people would recognize you, and… and you’d have all these job opportunities.”

“Not job opportunities!” Rosie deadpans.

“I’ve seen those reality girls,” Mom says. “Always hosting their little radio shows. You are too young to know if you’re ready to commit to your own radio show, Maya.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway, because I’m not doing it,” I say.

“Good. You can’t afford the distraction in your first year. The best revenge you can get on that boy is to succeed, you know.”

Rosie leans onto the table. “I’d argue first year is when you can most afford a distraction. Pretty sure most of the people in my class spent more time at parties than studying last year.”

“But that’s different,” Mom says. “Maya’s going to the University of Connecticut.”

Her eyes widen and flash toward Rosie as soon as the words are out of her mouth. I duck my head to stare at my oatmeal and brace. Three, two…