Page 28 of Fauxmance

As Hayden went to put on his leather jacket, something fluttered to the ground. It was the black-and-white checkered handkerchief.

"Hayden," I said as he zipped up. I handed him the material. "Here. You dropped this."

He tossed the cotton square back to me, and I caught it, giving him a questioning look.

"Keep it," he said. "I have more at home."

I gripped the hanky to my chest. At least I'd be able to wash it before giving it back.

Or not, I thought. Since I probably wouldn't see him again after this. The realization shouldn't have cut so deeply, but for some reason, it did.

"Consider it a gift, something to remember me by."

Hayden gave me one last grin then walked a few feet away. He stopped by a black motorcycle and put on his helmet.

"I knew you had a motorcycle," I called.

I heard his chuckle from where I stood. "Don't drive with that flat tire, Maggie. It's not safe."

He put a leg over the bike.

"And good luck with the wedding."

I nodded. "Thanks, I'll need it."

"Ah, I'm sure you'll kill it. About the elevator," he said and met my eyes. "I'm glad we gotout. But if we hadn't, to die by your side would've been such a heavenly way to die."

With that, Hayden revved the engine, gave me a nod, and drove out of the parking lot.

I watched him go.

Mom came up to me a moment later and laid a hand on my shoulder.

"Well," she said. "Not going to lie. That last bit was kind of morbid."

Her words made me laugh.

"But anyone who can quote The Smiths is cool in my book," Mom added.

"Mine, too," I said.

As I looked down at the cotton square in my hands, I shook my head. As if I'd need anything to remember Hayden. I was pretty sure I'd never forget him or this night. The only bad part was his words reminded me that I still had no date to my sister's wedding. And I hadn't gotten his number or any contact info, so this was the last I'd see of Hayden.

I wasn't sure which one was worse.

But both made my heart ache for different reasons.

CHAPTER 6

"Hurry, Magnolia, or we'll be late!" Mom called from the living room.

"Be right there," I said back.

She'd let me sleep in which was awesome. After last night, I'd needed it. But now, as I looked in the mirror, the bags under my eyes told the story. Le sigh. Even after watching a ton of tutorials, I still didn't know anything about makeup.

The foundation I'd bought online that looked perfect in the container was about two shades lighter than my skin, giving my face a ghostly hue.

My lipstick was too red—which made me think of vampires, ugh.

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