Page 25 of Breaking the Rules
“I’m totally pathetic, right?” I say once I’ve finished.
Harper gazes at me from across their dining table, swirling the ruby colored liquid in her wine glass. “Not necessarily.”
“Go on,” I urge.
“Here’s what you need to do.” There’s an evil glint in her eye and I lean forward in rapt interest as Harper tells me all the things.
Oh, this is gonna be good…
5
PRESTON
At my friend Harper’s urging, I agreed to be set up on a blind date.
Idiotic, I know.
But Harper was convinced that if Essie thought I was moving on with someone else, it would force her to reveal her true feelings on the subject. The subject of how she feels about me.
Since I’m an idiot and was also desperate, I agreed.
Harper thought me going out with someone else would make Essie jealous, or make her realize that she does want to be with me. It was a longshot.
The only person they could come up with on short notice was Harper’s hair stylist, Veronica.
Veronica has purple hair and a lot of tattoos. We got Thai food and then I dropped her off at home. As far as I’m concerned, it was a colossal waste of time because yesterday when I told Essie I had a date tonight, she’d smiled at me and said, “Cool. Have fun.” Like it was the least interesting piece of information she’d ever heard.
Fuck my life, am I right?
I spent most of the date talking about Essie, which was probably not very cool of me. But Veronica was kind about it.
I make it home by nine—which should tell you how not-great my date went. But Essie’s not here, so I sulk to my bedroom in defeat.
I’m lying on my bed texting with Harper and Jordie when there’s a light knock on my door.
My heart rate kicks up.
“Yeah?” I call and drop the phone onto my bed.
The door opens, and Essie peeks inside. “Are you awake?”
“Yeah.”
“You up for company?”
“Sure.” My pulse starts to pound in anticipation. I move over and Essie sits down beside me on the bed.
She yawns and I pat the pillow. “Lay down. You tired?”
She nods sheepishly and lays down on my pillow, curling onto her side to look up at me.
Man, she’s pretty. Her hair across my pillow is a welcome sight but I try not to be creepy by staring. She looks tired tonight. Between her internship and her classes, I’m sure she is. I wish I could do something to help her, but I’m not sure what. Essie is also very independent and I wouldn’t want to make her feel helpless. Something tells me she’s not good at accepting help anyway.
My phone lights up with another text from Harper or Jordie, but I ignore it.
“How was your date?” she asks.
I lay down beside her and gaze up at the ceiling. There’s a crack in the plaster in the shape of a sealion. I debate with myself about how honest to be with her. If the point, according to Harper is to make her jealous…I should lead her to believe it went well, right? On the other hand, I won’t lie to Essie.
