Page 117 of Personal Foul

Coming all the way into the room, Isabelle whacks me on the arm. “Shut up. How can you go through life without telling me these things? You’ve kept this whole relationship a secret from me!” She grows serious as she realizes what she’s just said, then nods. “I see. This is a whole thing for you, this keeping important details to yourself.”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” I rush to explain. “I knew how much you wanted to be with Andrew, and I could see the hurt on your face every time you saw Dylan and me together.”

She waves a hand. “I’m a big girl. You being in a relationship with a hot guy isn’t what was hurting my feelings. It was wishing for something I can’t have—namely, a relationship with Andrew. But you’ll be happy to know, I’m totally over him.” She wipes a hand through the air like she’s erasing a white board.

“Good for you.”

“Thank you.” She smiles and leans closer. “Lucas asked me out.”

“Isn’t he the guy you were crushing on at the beginning of the year in your communications class?”

She nods enthusiastically. “Yeah. We have World History II together this semester. We ended up at the coffee shop at the same time on Tuesday afternoon, talked for almost two hours, and then he asked me on a date this weekend!” She squeals and claps her hands.

With a laugh, I say, “I guess I know why Tuesday was the magical day you started missing me.”

She pushes on my leg. “Of course. I needed someone to share my excitement with, and instead I came home to no one. And Andrea and Kayla were both in class still, so I had to wait hours. And it’s not the same. You’re the one I always share that kind of news with first. I wanted totalkto you. I wanted to yell at you so you’d apologize again, and I could be the bigger person and forgive you.”

Snorting, I shake my head. “Can we skip the yelling, and I’ll just apologize again?”

“Sure.” She grins. “My desire to yell sort of dried up sometime between then and Saturday anyway.”

I reach over and rest my hand on her arm, looking into her eyes with every ounce of sincerity I can muster. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I won’t do it again. And I promise to dish with you about boys as often as you want.”

She laughs. “Deal.”

EPILOGUE I

Dylan

Charity pushes my hand away from my throat. “Quit fussing with your tie. I don’t really know why you’re wearing one in the first place, but also, I know you’ve worn one a million times because it was part of our high school uniform, so I’m not sure why you’re acting like it’s choking you.”

I stuff my hand in my pocket, bouncing on my toes instead. “The tie in high school was a clip on,” I tell her quietly, my eyes scanning the parking lot again.

We’re meeting Charity’s mom at Paragon, a fancy restaurant where I’ve made us a reservation. That’s why I’m wearing a tie. She’s in town to help Charity move into my apartment, and I want to do my best to make a good impression, especially after the whole break up and get back together thing. I don’t know what exactly Charity has told her mom about us—she told her sister about the blackmail, but did she tell her mom?—but no matter what, I want this woman on our side. My parents have accepted my suggestions for how to spin our relationship, but they’re far from supportive. It would be nice if at least one of our parents could be happy for us.

And I’m tugging at my collar because it’s a warm day in late May and I’m sweating in my suit, not because I feel choked.

But also, my nerves won’t let me stay still right now. Charity’s told me a dozen times to relax, but it does no good.

Finally, I see Angela walking toward us in a sapphire blue silk blouse tucked into a black pencil skirt, her hair a little longer than the last time I saw her. With a smile on her face, she lifts her hand in a wave.

Charity waves back excitedly, embracing her mom before she can even step onto the sidewalk. “Hello, my sweet girl,” Angela says to Charity. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Mom. I’m glad you made it. I’m starved. Let’s go in and eat.”

I hold out my hand to Charity’s mom. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Lavoy. I hope this place is okay for dinner.”

With a tinkling laugh, she shakes my hand. “Angela, please.” Eyebrows raised in amusement, she surveys the restaurant behind me. “I see you’re pulling out all the stops.” Her eyes refocus on me, dancing with merriment. “Smart man. Don’t worry. Anyone who makes my daughter as happy as you make Charity is okay in my book. Don’t get me wrong, though, I still appreciate being buttered up.”

Laughing, I turn to Charity, relief washing away the nerves that have been plaguing me all day.

Tucking her hand into my arm, Charity grins up at me, and we head inside.

This is what I didn’t know I was missing when I started poking at Charity all those months ago. What I didn’t know would be possible. But I’ve never been happier than I am with her, and knowing we have her mother’s support, at least, is the icing on the cake.

EPILOGUE II

Isabelle

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