Page 31

Lyla

Because in the cold, fluorescent light of day, I see it all clearly—like a glitter bomb exploded in a craft closet and took my good judgment with it.

Back at Play It Forward, my craft mess is more disastrous than I remembered.

I’m on my hands and knees scrounging up pieces of scrap paper, tossing broken light strips, and scraping stickers off the floor with my fingernails.

All the while, I’m utterly freaking out about going out with Drake Blythe.

First of all, he’s off-limits. Like fridge-magnet HR policy off-limits. Second, he’s a professional athlete-slash-recovering alcoholic-slash-guy-who-forgot-I-exist. Third, I’m freaking out. Because that’s my specialty.

Who needs grad school? Not this girl. I’ve got a PhD in Freaking Out, a double major in Worst-Case Scenarios and People-Pleasing, and postgraduate studies at the prestigious University of Anxiety and Doom. My thesis? High, Unyielding Standards and the Self-Sabotage That Follows.

I’ve texted Hazel no fewer than twenty-five times this morning alone. Which is saying a lot because I woke up late and have been running around like a teenager trying to get in line for a Taylor Swift merch drop.

By eight forty-five, I’ve decided I will not go on a date with Drake Blythe. I’ll politely decline his invitation and tell him we should keep it professional.

By eight fifty-five, I’ve drafted ten different text messages and deleted all of them.

Hazel still hasn’t texted me back. And she calls herself family. Psh.

I have to do actual work, which momentarily pauses my freak out session.

By ten thirty-five, it’s resumed in full-force because Drake Blythe sent me a bouquet of flowers that’s so gorgeous it looks like it belongs in a bridal magazine.

When I read the card, my stomach flips like it just nailed a gold-medal floor routine at the Olympics.

I hope this gives you the courage to say no to the things you need to say no to—and yes to love. — D.B.

Holy moly. What’s a girl supposed to say to that ? I snap a picture of the flowers and the card and then send them to Hazel.

By noon, I’m not even sure which Lyla I want to strangle more: 8am or 11pm. Or Drake. Definitely Drake. But also . . . maybe myself most of all.

Me

WHERE ARE YOUUUUU

I’M HAVING A STROKE

?? [photo of bouquet + card]

He said “say yes to love,” Hazel.

HE SAID “SAY YES TO LOVE.”

Hazel

Wow. Okay, he’s good. He’s really good.

Me

Why is he like this?? Why is he sweet?? I should be saying no to HIM.

WHY IS HE MAKING ME CONSIDER SAYING YES

Hazel

Because he’s into you.

And also because you’re into him.

Also, he’s hot.

Me

Yes but he’s also a recovering alcoholic with a checkered past and a tendency to forget important details like WHO I AM

Hazel

You’re allowed to be cautious.

You’re also allowed to say yes.

You’re not signing a marriage certificate.

It’s just dinner.

Me

A fancy schmancy dinner where I have to dress up

Hazel

Even better! You can bring back Layla. ::dancing emoji::

Me

Heck to the no, girl

Hazel

Make him remember.

Now, go say yes to love ;)

Me

You’re supposed to be my voice of reason, Hazel!!!

Hazel

I never signed up for that.

Me

HAZEL!!!!

Hazel

Gotta go, super busy at work, I’ll be there Friday to help you get ready! Byeeeeee!!! ::kissing emoji::