Page 53

“He said no. It doesn’t matter,” I say, sitting across from her.

The placemat below me is stained with red wine from last weekend.

Sydney is a neat freak, so she wasn’t happy about the stain not coming out in the wash.

I think she tried five different methods and then finally gave up.

She leans back and says, “Were you convincing enough?”

I close my eyes at her ridiculous question. She laughs in return. I touch the red wine stain and mention, “He made it clear he would never sleep with me.”

She cackles, slamming her laptop shut. “That’s bullshit. What else did he say?”

I hum. “Well, he didn’t know about the video, so I showed him. And… he laughed.”

Sydney gasps. “He laughed?”

“He must find it real entertaining to see his hater shoving his dick in someone he’s already been with.” I play with the corner of the placemat and say, “I don’t know about going to the party tonight. I need to stay home and cry.”

She points her immaculate fingernail at me. “No!”

I hide my pain. “It’s been one day, Syd. I found out about the video yesterday!”

She reaches for me across the table. “I know, babe, but you need to show Matt that you don’t care.

Get drunk, dance, and then come home and cry after.

” She smiles at me, so I nod. “Forget about that asshole, Grey. It was a long shot anyway. He only cares about hooking up. I told you he’d be that way. ”

I nod, replaying the rude way Greyson said no .

And how he said he would never sleep with me.

He’s a total asshole. The sting of those words makes me feel worse because if the hot guy who sleeps around doesn’t want me that must mean I am ugly, I am stupid, and I am worthless, and I deserve to be cheated on.

I can’t imagine the type of woman Greyson must go for if he turned me down so quickly.

“What time do we leave?” I ask.

She stands from the table, grabbing her things. “Let’s get ready now. You need to look hot.”

Upstairs in her room, which is my favorite room in the house because of her wonderful sense of style, she applies minimal makeup to my face. I’m sitting at her vanity, facing her as she applies whatever this crap is on my face.

“I know you’re not a makeup girl, so don’t worry, it’s going to be very subtle.

You’ll be glowing.” She dabs a stick of something on my cheeks and then on my nose.

I keep my eyes closed until she’s done. I’m enjoying this because I grew up with three brothers.

There was never a moment in time when I ever got into this makeup or fashion thing.

“If I cry, will it run?” I ask as she does my eyelashes.

“You’re not allowed to cry until we get home.”

I smile, holding in my laugh, and say, “Okay.”

She blows on my lashes. “Okay. Now for my favorite part.” She claps once with excitement. “I know exactly what you should wear.”

I glance at her closet, feeling a bit too excited. Everything Sydney wears is gorgeous. Designer or not designer, her clothes always look good. Or maybe it’s just her.

“I need to find my style,” I call out, imagining how exciting it must be to have a fun wardrobe. It’s now on my list of things to do: Build a dream wardrobe.

“You’ll figure it out,” she murmurs. “You’ll need to try different clothes and find what works for your figure. Okay, so I was thinking we could either wear something bright or sexy.”

“I don’t know about bright,” I say, recalling that Greyson called me a little girl. “I need sexy. Hot. I need to look hot.”

“Like feather sleeves?” She pulls out a black long-sleeved top with feathered cuffs.

The neckline is wide, so it must be off the shoulder.

It looks sexy. “Or a bare back with a tie?” She pulls out a brown top that is a piece of cloth with strings.

“It’s hot on. You like this one, don’t you?

” She wiggles it as I stare, imagining my tiny frame in it.

Every part of my back will be on display.

She lays it nicely on her bed. “With this, you absolutely should wear leather pants and boots.”

“Is that hot or army girl?” I ask, imagining that I would look like a tomboy instead of a college hot girl.

“Okay, jeans then. I have the perfect denim. Cancel the boots and you can wear these pumps.”

“The boots will do,” I smile, nodding at the pair she brought out. The outfit looks hot against her white comforter and pinkish rug. I only hope it looks good on. “No bra?”

She shakes her head. “No bra.”

I take the clothes and put it on while she searches her closet for her outfit. I pull up the pants, and they glide on smoothly. This is unlike any denim I’ve ever felt before.

“Your ass looks great in those.”

“It’s a good thing we’re the same size,” I say, turning to look at my bottom in the mirror.

She shakes her head. “No, my butt doesn’t look that good. I’m basically P-shaped. Those are baggy on me. You have a great ass and great boobs.”

I look at my boobs as I change into the top.

She ties me up, tightening it. My nipples are hard because it’s freezing in here.

Sydney doesn’t like how the heaters dry out her skin, so it’s always cold in her room.

When she’s done tying it, I glance in the mirror.

This top outlines every curve. My boobs are completely outlined.

Anyone can see the type of nipples I have. Small and supple.

“My boobs are small.”

“Yeah, but they’re perfect. You have a good handful.”

She’s not wrong. We look in the mirror side by side.

Sydney is gorgeous with her overgrown fringe and pink lips.

She’s sophisticated while I’m simply the girl next door.

I guess Greyson is right. I look like a little girl.

So, I pull my hair into a ponytail, taking out a few pieces to frame my face.

This should make me look a little older.

Sydney plugs in her curler and says, “Good call on the hair. It’ll show off your back. You look hot.”

“It’s not too much?” I ask, worried about what Matt will think seeing me dressed like this. “It’s like thirty degrees tonight.”

“You’re an ice girl, you got this.”

I grin because she’s right. I grew up on the ice, and I’m basically immune to the cold weather.

I let Sydney curl the hair around my face and then she does my ponytail.

I mutter, “Maybe my heart is made of ice. It’s fragile as hell.

If ice drops, it breaks. It needs to be in the right temperature, or it’ll disappear. ”

“Your boyfriend making a porn doesn’t mean your heart is fragile. Please, Maddie. He’s a fucking asshole. And you don’t deserve that.”

I shrug. “Nobody deserves that.”

“Yeah, but you’re the biggest sweetheart. Matt knows that. Did you tell him you saw the video yet?”

I shake my head, reaching for my phone that’s been on silent. Sydney snatches it from my palm.

“You didn’t break up with him yet?” she scolds me while glancing at my phone. She’s reading something. It’s probably a text. Her eyes widen. “He’s expecting to see you tonight.”

My anxiety tingles in my fingertips. “I told you I wanted to stay home and cry.”

“Maddie, you need to tell him that you know. I thought you were gonna do it before you talked to Grey? Wait,” she says, holding up her hand. “He saw you talking to Grey.”

“No,” I say, grabbing my phone back to read the text.

Matt (heart emoji): Are you meeting me at the party or do I need to pick you up?

Matt (heart emoji): Why were you talking to Grey?

Matt (heart emoji): Hello?

Tears pool into my eyes.

“No, no, no,” Sydney pleads. “No crying. Think about shopping for a candle for your great grandma, and when you gift it to her, she thinks it’s a margarita and tries to drink it.”

I laugh at her randomness. Having a friend with a sense of humor like her makes these hard times feel much lighter and easier. I’m grateful for her. My watery eyes don’t turn into falling tears.

Sydney huffs, resting her hands on her hips. “Babe, do you need to stay home?”

I lick my lips, glancing at my reflection. All dressed up with nowhere to go or go out and have fun with the girls?

“What do I do about Matt?” I ask, not knowing how to navigate this type of breakup. I’ve never been cheated on before. A breakup is given, right? No talking required?

She keeps her strong stance as she says, “Just send him the link to the video.”

I imagine Matt recognizing the link and panicking, calling me, and throwing me excuses. On the opposite spectrum, I imagine him not caring I saw the video and meeting up with Michelle later to do it again. Both scenarios make me want to cry.

I pull out my phone and stretch my neck from the stress this is giving me. “I don’t think I can do it. Can you?”

“Yeah,” she says, reaching for my phone.

“Then block him, please. I’m done with him.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Don’t tolerate that. It doesn’t matter what he says.”

My mind runs wild about what he would say. “Do you think he’ll want to talk?” I cringe just thinking about what he would say about making a porno. “I don’t think I can talk to him. Like ever again.”

She’s tapping away on my phone. “I know, babe. You don’t have to. I’ll be by your side all night. Okay,” she glances at me. “I only sent the link, and I blocked him. I removed the heart emoji from his name. It’s done.”

I exhale as she passes me the phone, relieved.

“You got this.” She nods, hugging me from the side. “Now let’s get wasted, have some fun, and dance.”

I hug her back. “I love you. Thank you.”

I don’t care if I’m letting her talk me into going out while I’m emotionally distressed. A part of me wants to go out and see Matt. If he’s still going out, then so am I.