Page 68 of Dear Love, I Hate You (Easton High)

“I mean… One plus one equals two,” Dia croaks, failing to keep her misery at bay.

“This guy is unbelievable!”

I can’t fathom Finn’s behavior. After everything he’s done, he should consider himself lucky Dia is willing to even look at him. If he really does want her back as much as Xavier says he does, he has a hell of a funny way of showing it.

Xavier.

His name zaps through my memory, rehashing my last conversation with him. Last night, he said Finn didn’t cheat on Dia. I personally don’t believe it, but Dia should be able to make that decision for herself.

“Xavier told me something last night, and I think you should know.”

Worry darkens her features. “What is it?”

“It came from the mouth of someone who’d do anything for Finn, so take it with a grain of salt, but… Xav said Finn didn’t cheat.”

Dia’s face doesn’t twist with shock. Her eyebrows don’t shoot up to her hairline. In fact, her expression remains blank.

Indecipherable.

“I know,” she simply says.

“You do?”

“Don’t worry, not buying it for a second, but Finn tried to sell me the same bullshit last night.”

“And would it change anything… if he hadn’t?”

Undecisive, Dia nibbles on her bottom lip.

“It doesn’t matter because he did. End of story.” She writes off the possibility, and I get the sense that she’d prefer we left it at that. I think we’re done discussing Easton High’s playboys when Dia’s almond-shaped eyes flash in realization.

“Hold on a second, when were you with Xavier last night? He disappeared like halfway through the party.”

Crap.

“Is that where he was the whole time? With you?” Her high-pitched, excited tone tells me everything I need to know. She’s seeing romance where there was nothing but polite chitchat and human decency.

“Whatever you’re thinking, unthink it. He just gave me a ride. I couldn’t get home since you were…” I stop short.

The smile is instantly slapped off her face.

“Vee, I’m… I’m so sorry about that. Did I say I was sorry? God, I could slap myself. Do you want me to slap myself? Because I will.”

A chuckle leaves my mouth.

“It’s fine. Ancient history.”

“So, did you ask Xavier for a ride, or did he offer?” she nags.

“What difference does it make?”

“All the difference in the world.” Dia gives my shoulder a slight shake as if to knock some sense into me. “So?”

I give in. “He offered.”

This earns me a smirk and a very suggestive “I see.”

“Shut up.” I flush, and Dia laughs.