Page 21

21

ANYA

Three Years Earlier

MY TIRED EYES READ the same sentence over and over, none of it transmitting to my brain. A silver lining of this unofficial break-up with Mason is that I have thrown myself into my studies like never before.

As hard as we both try to avoid each other, it’s pointless. The tension is worse than ever, and I can barely breathe when he’s nearby. It’s not fair on me, it’s not fair on him and it’s not fair on anyone else who gets involved. Three times in the past two weeks I’ve heard Chelsea and Mason arguing about me, and I barely even make eye contact with him when he’s in the same room. The tension is completely dialled down compared to what it usually is, so if she’s still able to sense it, then I don’t know what else to do.

‘I want everyone to have read up to chapter eight by class tomorrow, as we’ll be having a quiz on it,’ Mr. Dawson states, and there’s a quiet groan in response. The bell blares loudly overhead and there’s a collective sound of textbooks snapping shut, chairs scraping against the linoleum floor and chatter breaking out.

‘What are you up to over the weekend?’ Phoebe asks, looping her arm through mine as she guides us around the desks and out of the classroom.

‘Undecided,’ I answer.

She side-eyes me. ‘Meaning?’

‘I haven’t given him an answer. About the date.’

Phoebe’s lips tilt. ‘Which one, babe?’

I groan. I should be flattered that there are two nice, attractive guys who want to go out with me. Both of them are great. They’re fun, athletic, we share common interests, and they truly seem to be very nice guys. I’m starting to question my own sanity for having less than zero interest in either of them.

‘I think I’m broken, Phoebs,’ I say hopelessly, dragging my feet.

She scoffs. ‘You are so young and so beautiful, my girl.’ She leans over, brushing her lips against my cheek. ‘Drop the loser older friend, and start focusing on the very, very hot boys right in front of you.’

‘Hey!’ Dylan greets us, his long floppy hair falling across his forehead. He sweeps it off his face, only for it to fall right back in the same spot a moment later. He turns to face Phoebe and nods. ‘Phoebe.’

‘Dylan.’ She smiles coyly, grazing her shoulder against his arm as she sidles past him, shooting me a wink over her shoulder.

‘Hi, Dylan.’ I smile politely, feeling my shoulders tense as he beams at me. I don’t miss the way his eyes dart down to my legs. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m excellent. How are you?’

‘Good, thanks.’

‘Walk you to English?’ he offers, falling in stride with me. A part of me wonders whether he asked Phoebe how to get my attention and if she suggested this, because he seems to be popping up everywhere, offering to do things for me. It’s really nice, but my head is a mess. It’s hard to focus on anyone other than Mason.

‘Sure.’

‘Have you given any more thought to the weekend?’ he asks, and my stomach tightens with nausea at the thought of going on a date with anyone who isn’t Mason. I would love to say yes to Dylan, but it wouldn’t be fair on him when my mind is consumed with someone else.

‘Look, Dylan ...’ I sigh.

He holds his hands up. ‘Don’t say it, Anya. I’m patient. I’ll wait. For when you’re ready.’

I release a breath as I smile, feeling instantly relieved he isn’t being pushy like I thought he would be. Again, I have a niggling feeling he’s had a conversation with Phoebe about me. ‘Thanks, Dylan.’

‘Any updates on your party?’ He wiggles his brows.

My birthday is fast approaching, and I feel a flutter of excitement in my chest. I have been counting down the days until my eighteenth for years . Mason had always promised me that once I turn eighteen, things would be different. He promised me that, if I still feel the same – even after everything that’s happened – we can be together. It’s been a long time coming.

‘My house. Anyone who is anyone will be there.’

He grins. ‘It’s going to be epic.’