Page 13 of Class Act

Lizzie’s hand landed lightly on my back as she whispered. “They were merciless when it was me and Jackson.”

I had a flashback of sitting on our sleeping bags as darkness fell and razzing Lizzie about getting the nerve to kiss her man. The memory made me grin. “True. The only difference is you wanted Jackson and he wanted you, and it was an amazing fairy-tale adventure.”

Lizzie shrugged. “So, like Meredith said, consider this Beauty and the Beast. You being Beauty, obviously. Save the beast instead of slaying him. Go live in his castle.”

“She can slay his cold heart with her love,” Ruby, having overheard, wiggled her eyebrows.

I bit my lip. “He’s not a beast, exactly.”

“Oh, I’ll bet he’s a beast when those gray eyes are focused on you . . .” Ruby puckered up her lips and dropped her tone, “. . .it’s magic.”

“This has completely gone off the rails,” I sighed, although I was fighting a smile. I loved them so much for lightening the mood and reminding me that this situation wasn’t nearly as life or death as I was making it out to be.

“Listen,” Aryn said into the laughter, “From where I’m sitting there is no choice to be made. Hailey, you jump aboard this rollercoaster and enjoy the ride.”

I turned to them and pulled a face. “People die on rollercoasters, you know.”

Aryn made a kissy face. “But what a way to go.”

Meredith waved her hands and forced the amusement off her face. “Okay, okay. Ford is good looking but looks aren’t everything.”

“Or even worth mentioning,” I muttered. Hypocrite.

Meredith cocked her head. “Mmm . . . agree to disagree. His are mentionable. But, yeah, looks aren’t everything.”

“Thank you,” I gestured to Meredith and gave the others a nod.

“Hey, Mer is the one who started this whole thing by saying how hot he is. In the interest of science, we had to test her hypothesis.” Ruby defended. “Thornback women don’t take people’s word for it. They investigate.”

That got us all laughing again, and it was another few seconds of talking about what pretty babies me and Ford would have, which had me blushing against my will because it was like they were reading a page out of my hallucination diary.

My heart sank, though, as I realized I simply could not go through with asking Leonard for the set up. Lying to my parents was worse than hurting their feelings with facts, and the truth does always have a way of sneaking out between the cracks of a lie. Plus, I was raised better than that. I’d been honest with them my entire life, so it seemed a little strange to suddenly go through a lying phase as an adult.

Even more importantly, Ford didn’t want it. And no matter how I felt, I’d never force myself on a single, widowed man who had explicitly said no. And what about Hillary?

“I can’t do it,” I said, folding my arms. “It’s not fair to anyone involved. He may be handsome and rich, but it’s not enough reason to hurt people.”

My friends, understanding that the conversation was basically over, graciously accepted my decision and filed out as they moved on to other topics. I stared after them, wishing helplessly that my heart didn’t yearn so much for a shot with Ford, a real shot . . .

CHAPTER FOUR

Sweat dripped into my eyes before I had a chance to wipe it with my towel, and the burn made me hiss. Meredith had convinced me to attend her workout class after school, and my poor body was used to the calming practice of yoga, not pumping the pedals of a bicycle like my very life depended on it. About fifteen minutes in, my rear end had begged for relief, and sweat began pouring from places I didn’t realize sweat could come from. Meredith, however, looked like she’d just returned from a battle where she’d pillaged and then convinced her victims to make her the new queen. She was glowing, her eyes bright, a big smile on her face. Spin class royalty.

“There’s no other feeling on earth that comes close to this,” she said, glancing at me in the locker room mirror we were both standing in front of.

Her hair was slicked back, which, being short, required copious amounts of bobby pins and a sweatband. Her blue eyes matched her exercise outfit perfectly. My pink exercise clothes also matched me, but it was the flushed cheeks and chest that really completed the whole ‘I’m a strawberry’ look. She was right. This was a special feeling. But there were a host of other feelings I’d enjoy more. At this moment those feelings would be more along the lines of falling back into pillows or dipping my face in ice water.

“Why isn’t your face the color of a tomato?” I huffed.

She shrugged lightly as she pulled the sweatband from her forehead. “I was born for this.”

“Born for spin class? Like, the heavens saved you for this very time in the history of the world so that you could rock the bike?” I teased.

She laughed and whipped the sweatband at my shoulder. “I’m going to take a shower. Are you heading home?”

“Yeah.” I had zero desire to shower and get ready at the gym. I preferred my own bathroom and didn’t enjoy hauling my products everywhere. “I want to soak in a tub.”

“Wimp,” she teased as she turned toward the lockers.

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