Page 77 of Hotter in the Hamptons

Was Aly toxic?

Maybe, she thought. But she also knew that her privacy and poise, that cool girl veneer, were what made Aly so attractive.

Or maybe Lola was the toxic one.

That still didn’t mean she deserved to be ghosted.

Just as she was about to totally lose it, she finally got a text back.

Sorry, can’t talk.

Sorry, can’t talk?

What the fuck?

Lola wanted to throw her phone into the pool. She’d never been blown off so thoroughly. She didn’t know how to respond. Should she say nothing? No, that wasn’t an option. Aly owed her an explanation.

She wrote backWhy not?

The three dots appeared and then disappeared. Appeared and then disappeared. Lola wasn’t breathing.

Finally:Just give me some time, okay?

Lola felt like vomiting.

Never before had anyone requested time away from her.

Well, no, that wasn’t true.

Justin had requested the whole summer off. Had she pushed Aly away in the same way? Was she just so unlovable that no one wanted to stick around? Was that why her followers were so eager to abandon her too?

Her phone buzzed with another text from Aly.Sorry. I am mind-fucking.

Lola’s fingers flew over the keyboard.About what??

I just wish you weren’t straight.

Her heart thundered in her chest.This again?she sent.Where are you?

Aly replied,Can I please have some space? I have a lot to process.

Lola flopped on the cream bouclé sofa. She gave Aly’s text a thumbs-up and forced herself not to send another text.

Then she did the one thing she knew would make her feel better.

She called her mom.

“Lola!” Jeanette answered on the first ring. “There you are.”

“Hi, Mom,” Lola said, feeling herself relax.

“How’s my East Hampton girl?”

Lola paused, and in the pause, her mom heard everything. “Whathappened?”

“I like someone,” she said, starting to cry. “And I think it got all fucked up, and I’m not sure how to fix it.”

“Slow down,” Jeanette said. Lola could hear the sound of the French doors sliding open as her mom went into the backyard and sat in her favorite rattan chair. Picturing it made Lola ache with homesickness. “You like someone? Not Justin?”

---