Page 3 of How to Get Revenge on a Cheating Ex
But the door opens before I get the chance, and Zack doesn’t miss a beat.
He closes the distance between us and crushes his lips to mine.
Here’s hoping he crushes Grayson’s heart while he’s at it.
All I know is, Zack’s lips are on mine and for a second, I forget.
I forget where we are, I forget who’s watching. I forget my own freakin’ name.
There is just Zack. And me.
And there’s no going back.
TWO
REWIND & REPLAY
Bailey
Let’sback this up a bit, shall we?
It’s hard to know where to start, but for me the story begins on the first day of summer vacation. That’s the day I got my first hint that maybe my life wasn’t perfect.
I know, I know. No one’s life is perfect. But in my defense, my life was pretty dang close.
Junior year ended on a high note. I’d aced the SATs, applied for early admission to the school of my dreams, and my boyfriend’s top pick was within driving distance. If all went according to plan, we wouldn’t even have to deal with long-distance drama.
Yup. Life was good. Right up until?—
“Hey, Smurfette!”
I let the front door click shut behind me with a weary sigh. I don’t have to glance over at the neighbor’s driveway to know what I’ll see.
Zack Myers. Working on his car, most likely.
Like the most stereotypical stereotype, Mayfair High’s ultimate bad boy is sinfully hot, stupidly beloved by the girls in our class, and crazy into cars.
He’s also insanely annoying, but apparently I’m the only one who sees that side of him.
Lucky me.
But today, at least, I won’t have to deal with him for long. Grayson texted two minutes ago that he’s close, so any second now he’ll pull up in front of my house and whisk me away.
Idiot that he is, Zack pretends to be offended by my silence. “You wouldn’t beignoringme, now would you?”
He even adds a gasp, and if I look over, I have no doubt he’ll be pretending to clutch his nonexistent pearls for good measure.
But I don’t look over. Instead, I ignore him some more. It’s the only way to deal with Zack. If I attempt to engage, it’ll only get ugly.
Ineverwin these verbal sparring matches.
I might have a high SAT score, but when it comes to slinging insults, I end up sounding like the idiot here, and we both know it.
“Aw, come on...” His voice is all low and rumbly. I might even call it sexy if every word out of his mouth wasn’t tinged with a smugness that makes me want to punch him in the throat. “Smurfette, don’t be like that.”
There it is again. Smurfette. He’s trying to get a rise out of me, but I won’t give in.
I know what you’re thinking. Why does he call me Smurfette?
