Page 12

AMELIA

When I get back to my apartment from Caleb’s, I kick off my heels, bolting to the bathroom in desperate need of a shower.

After scrubbing off last night’s chaos, I slip into pajamas and twist my hair into a sleek bun.

Orientation at work is tomorrow and I guess it’s not too early to call it a day. I’m beat.

I toss a slice of frozen pizza in the oven, unplug my laptop, and settle at the kitchen island scrolling through dresses for Tia’s wedding rehearsal. She’s not getting married for another three months, so I’ve got some time.

My phone rings, and speaking of the bride…

“Kamusta ka na,” Tia says proudly, propping her phone on the counter as she chops onions. “You know, I really need to learn some new Tagalog words.”

“I’ll teach you.”

“You always say that,” she shoots back, waving her knife for emphasis. “And then you forget. It’s been, oh I don’t know, years!”

“Pasensya na.”

Tia freezes mid-chop, squinting like I just insulted her outfit. “What did you say?”

“I’m sorry.”

She blinks. “Sorry for what? Did you take my dress that makes your butt look goooood ? I told you, you can raid my closet anytime?—”

“No, it literally means I’m sorry.” I smother a laugh.

“Oh.” Her eyes start to water.

“Don’t cry.”

“Please.” She tugs down her sleeve and dabs her eyes. “I don’t cry. Especially not over an onion.”

“Babe, you cry all the time,” Amir calls out, sliding into frame behind her and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

She rolls her eyes, chuckling. “Only sometimes.”

After talking for a few minutes, I hang up and check the oven. Mmm, the pizza smells amazing.

I grab a slice, sit back down and resume doom scrolling through a million dresses.

Jared slips into my mind for a brief moment, uninvited. The thought of seeing him at the wedding makes my stomach twist into a million knots.

I’m mid-bite into my hot slice of pepperoni goodness when my phone vibrates against the table again.

This time, it’s my mom.

Oh gosh. How many bets, she’s going to ask me about bringing a date?

I swallow, wipe my hands, and hit the speaker button as I answer.

“Hi, my favorite daughter.”

“I’m your only daughter.” I scoff, smiling anyway.

“What are you up to?” Her voice has that devious tone to it. It sounds too sweet and I don’t like it one bit.

“Trying to find a dress.”

“Oh.”

A beat of silence.

“Do you have a date yet?” She spouts.

Ah and there it is. The real reason she called.

I know she means well, she was devastated when I told her about Jared. My dad wanted to punch him, and I was considering it for a while but with him being a lawyer and all, that probably wouldn’t have been the best idea.

My mom’s always encouraged me to get out there. To trust again. Not all men are bad, she reminds me. I know that. But my heart? It doesn’t.

“I’m not looking for one.”

Would it be nice not to be alone in the Bahamas? Yes, but I know I’m not ready for anything serious.

“Anak, I heard about Jared’s new girlfriend… I know the breakup took a huge toll on you, and that’s why I really want you to try and move on?—”

We keep talking, or rather, my mom keeps talking about how I need to open up and put myself out there more until we finally hang up an hour later.

As if I wasn’t already anxious about the wedding, now her voice is echoing in my head making it worse.

I can picture it now…the pitying looks, the awkward small talk, and don’t forget the inevitable “ Are you okay?” Some of Tia’s family are close with me, and the last thing I need is anyone treating me like I’m fragile just because I have history with the groom’s cousin.

Okay yeah. I need a date.

All I need to do is:

1. Meet a respectable man.

2. Become his girlfriend.

3. Get him to book a flight to the Bahamas within the span of three months.

Easy enough? No. Ugh, that isn’t going to work. All this overthinking is making my stomach hurt. Like IBS hurt.

I huff, shoving my plate in the dishwater, glancing up at the clock.

Only 3 p.m. I have no other plans today so I head into the bathroom, put on a sheet mask, grab my Kindle, and crawl under the cold covers. If I could spend the rest of my life like this, I totally would.

My current read is a billionaire romance with a morally grey MMC and it’s spiiiicy.

Exactly my type.

Later that night, my sleep is ruined by my phone buzzing nonstop on the nightstand. Dinging every two seconds.

I groan, roll over, and slap my hand against the table until I find it. The screen blinds me as I squint, only to see Maya and Tia spamming our group chat.

BADDEST BITCHES

Tia

WAKE UP.

Maya

Holy shit. Have you seen this?

TIA

Maya

SOS.

WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU ASLEEP? IT’S ONLY 8.

What could be so important right now? I call Tia first, then add Maya onto three way.

“What?” I say groggily, pressing the phone to my ear.

“First of all, why are you sleeping at this hour?” Maya shouts.

“Mm… Why are you yelling?” I slide my palm down my face.

“Have you been on socials today?” Tia asks, panicking. “I was at work all day and we’re just now seeing this.”

“No.” I murmur lazily. “I haven’t logged on.”

“Check it. Now.” Maya instructs.

I groan, putting it on speaker, and open up the app.

My body tenses immediately. My notifications and DM’s are flooded. What in the world is going on?

@Calebsgirl28: Are you two dating? Plz say no.

@Mina_2101: Hopefully she’s not taken too.

@LAvipersfan15: I kinda ship it.

Panic settles and my heart pounds as I swipe over to the homepage. It’s everywhere. Oh no. My fingers move at lightning speed, swiping and it’s never ending.

I sit up straight, yanking the blanket and knocking my bonnet off in the process and zoom in.

This looks insane. Paparazzi photos of me and Caleb look way too intimate from the angles they captured. It’s completely wrong. One photo shows my face pressed into his neck like I’m kissing him. Another has him carrying me bridal style into his apartment! What the?—

This is bad. Really bad.

I was clearly NOT kissing him.

“Everyone thinks you two are a thing.” Maya shouts through the speaker. “It’s viral.”

I tune out as Tia and Maya begin to talk over each other, but it sounds like gibberish.

“I gotta go!” I hang up.

I can’t scroll more than three times without seeing a new angle of these images. This couldn’t have happened at a worse time.

We aren’t reckless college kids anymore. I can’t afford to have this follow me around and have my reputation on blast. I start work in the morning and now my face is all over tabloids labeled as Caleb’s new hookup?

Unlike Caleb, I don’t have a career to fall back on yet if this ruins me.

I get up, pacing my apartment like a wild animal, pressing my lips together, trying to think and wrap my brain around what the media is saying. There has to be something…

So much for a fresh start.