Page 84 of Dream On, Ramona Riley

“What’s going on?” Leigh asked.

“Oh, Ramona’s dating a star,” April said.

“I am not. Well, not really.”

“A star?” Leigh said. “Is this about all this movie insanity I came home to?”

“Oh yeah,” April said. “Dylan Monroe.”

“God,” Leigh said. “She’s hot.”

“Right?” April said as she got out her own phone and started swiping and tapping.

Ramona ignored them both, tapping her name along with Dylan’s into her browser’s search window.

“Fuck,” April whispered, always faster with the tech. “Ramona, hang on.”

“What? Why?” She tapped enter, and several articles popped up on TMZ, Page Six, and PopSugar. She clicked on one, immediately faced with a picture of herself and Dylan holding hands at the Earthstars Museum. Nothing horrible—she looked cute in her overalls, it was true.

But then she saw the headline.

Childhood Sweethearts Reunite

Her stomach immediately went cold. She felt someone’s hand on her back—April’s probably—but everything else in the store faded away, blurred as though she’d just taken some hallucinogenic drug as she read the article.

Dylan Monroe’s efforts at starring in a romantic comedy might not be too far from the actual truth, as our wild girl seems to be living her own real-life, clutch-at-your-heart romance. As it turns out, Dylan and Ramona of Clover Lake (move aside, Anne Shirley) met each other eons ago when they were thirteen on the lakeshore during a fireworks display. As if that wasn’t swoon-worthy enough, the two shared a memorable first kiss, then never spoke again.

Until.

You guessed it.

Dylan arrived back in Clover Lake forAs If You Didn’t Know, and now it appears Dylona has been born. Or shall we go with Ramlyn?

That was all there was. A hundred words tops, but it was enough to obliterate Ramona’s mind, her smile, her entire understanding of what she and Dylan were doing. Her heart felt huge, swollen and beating too fast, or maybe too slow, she couldn’t tell. It was just wrong, unnatural, and she was in the middle of the bedding aisle at a fucking Target.

“Is this true?” Olive asked.

Ramona looked at her sister, Olive’s eyes full of both wonder and hurt.

“Ollie,” Ramona said, her name for her sister when she was small and could fit in her arms.

Olive just shook her head, looked away. It was true they told each other everything. Olive even knew about Logan—granted, she didn’t know specifics, but she was old enough to understand that sex between consenting adults was perfectly normal and healthy, and Ramona had made damn sure to raise Olive in a sex-positive environment, no matter how much their father squirmed when condoms were mentioned at the dinner table.

Still.

Olive didn’t know this, and Ramona didn’t know what to do about that wounded look on her favorite person’s face, especially when her heart felt shredded and raw.

Becauseno oneknew this story.

No one except April and Dylan.

She turned to her best friend, felt her brows lower. She didn’t want to believe it. Didn’t even want to think it.

April’s expression was nothing but concern…until it shifted.

“Mona,” she said softly. “I didn’t. I swear to god.”

Ramona felt herself relax. She knew April wouldn’t—why the hell would she? There was no reason, and April was her ride or die, her everything from the day they met.