Page 121 of Your Fault

“I don’t have a middle name. Middle names are for losers.”

“I’ve got a middle name, asshole.”

He started giggling and turned his face away.

“Noah Carrie Morgan! Oh my God, I forgot! Your mother must have been drunk when she picked that! You’re not going to use your telepathic powers on me, are you?”

I shoved him hard, but he didn’t move an inch. I’d read that stupid Stephen King book, too, and no, my mother hadn’t chosen that name because she thought I’d be some screwed-up girl everyone hated; it just happened to be my grandmother’s name.

“Dickhead!” I groaned, laughing, then going slack over the mattress.

He sat up then and looked down at me. “I love you, Freckles, along with each and every one of your names.”

He kissed my cheek and let me go. I got up. I needed to shower. I grabbed my things while Nick got dressed next to me, observing me from the corner of his eyes. All of a sudden, he was being strangely quiet. Before I could make it to the bathroom, he stopped me, grabbed my hand, and sat down with me on the edge of the bed, looking up at me.

“I need to tell you something…and I don’t want you to get mad.”

I looked at him with suspicion.

“I’m not going to the gala alone tomorrow.”

That was the last thing I expected him to say.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

I knew my tone of voice had changed dramatically, and I felt the room temperature drop several degrees in that moment.

“I’m supposed to go with Sophia.”

And there it was: we were right back at square one.

“I came over yesterday to tell you in person. I don’t want you to get mad. We’re going there as coworkers. That’s it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before, then?” I asked, now angry.

“Because we were so happy together, and I missed you so much…”

I didn’t want him to go with her… The last thing I needed just then was to feel that things were slipping out of my grasp. But maybe this was the moment, the one Michael had said a thousand times would come, when I needed to finally start acting with my head instead of with my heart…

“Fine. Do what you’ve got to do, and we’ll talk it over afterward.”

I turned around to go to the bathroom, but Nick stopped me again.

“Tomorrow, when this is all over, we’ll go far away from here. We’ll take a weekend together. We’ll go and fix things between us. You know I would never even set eyes on a girl who wasn’t you.”

I laughed bitterly. “Remember those words the next time you freak out and get jealous over someone.”

He nodded. I think he accepted my words. Cupping my face, he looked me in the eyes with the purest sincerity.

“I love you, and there’s no one I even think about apart from you.”

I closed my eyes and let him kiss me, and when he left, I went to the bathroom.

I tried to shut out all those negative thoughts that kept cropping up and tormenting me, those thoughts I had been working on for two weeks, the things I’d been struggling to look away from, trying to change to feel better about myself, more secure, braver. I couldn’t go back to the starting gate—I wouldn’t. So I tried to banish my demons and trust Nick.

One thing was true, though: I was going to look so fucking hot that my idiot boyfriend wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off me.

Later that morning, before the gala, I hung out with Briar and Jenna, who couldn’t stop blabbing and laughing. It was way more fun than I could have hoped. Jenna had invited the woman who did her mother’s hair over (and hers whenever she had a big event), and in expectation of her arrival, we’d turned my dorm into a regular beauty parlor.