Page 20 of Because I Liked A Boy
“Relax, Belle. You’ve got me. We’ll play this smart. You’ll look hot, he’ll look at you, and she’ll choke on it.”
Shopping with Ruby is less retail therapy and more military strategy. Sheprowls racks like a predator, shoving dresses into my arms faster than I can protest. By the time she shoves me into a dressing room, I’m buried under fabric.
“Strip,” she orders through the door.
“Buy me dinner first,” I mutter, but I try on the white mini anyway.
And then I stop.
The mirror doesn’t give me London Isabella. Or shattered Isabella. It gives me someone sharper. Someone who doesn’t flinch.
Ruby whistles when I step out. “Holy shit. That’s lethal.”
By the time we collapse into the food court, bags piled at our feet, I’m still not sure whether she’s dressed me for battle or disaster.
I’m about to stab a fry when the air shifts.
Millie Carson doesn’t approach quietly. She sweeps in like she owns the place, Eleanor and two others in tow, all heels and gloss and eyes locked straight on me.
She stops at our table, arms folded, smile laced with poison. “Didn’t think you’d show your face after this morning. Guess spreading your legs for Hunter Hayes makes a girl cocky.”
The food court stalls around us—forks pausing, conversations tilting.
Ruby’s on her feet instantly, soda sloshing. “Say that again.”
Millie’s smirk deepens. “What? Too close to the truth?”
Eleanor slides forward, eyes flicking between us. “Don’t waste your breath, Rubes. She’s a placeholder. Hunter has a type, and it isn’t her. He’ll get bored. Just like Theo did.”
Ruby flinches. “Don’t—”
Eleanor leans in, loud enough to carry. “Theo never kept it in his pants for you. That’s why he always comes back to me. Ask anyone—he still does. You were a warm-up fuck.”
Ruby’s face flashes white, then red. Something sharp and old wakes in my chest.
I stand slow, chair legs shrieking against tile. “Fuck.” My voice is calm, cold, cutting. “Millie, Eleanor—you’re the town welcome mats. Walked on, pissed on, and still pretending you’re the prize.”
Millie’s face goes hot. Eleanor’s smirk wobbles.
“Congratulations,” I add, smiling without warmth. “You’ve downgraded from girlfriend to cum-dumpster. That’s not power, sweetheart. That’s pathetic.”
Gasps ripple. Phones lift. A kid nearby mutters holy shit.
I lean closer, voice soft but deadly. “Theo crawling back to your bed doesn’t mean you’ve won. It means you’re convenient. The number he dials when he’s drunk and bored and can’t find better.”
Eleanor’s mouth trembles. Millie grabs her wrist and yanks her back. They pivot away, but halfway to their table Eleanor glances over, smile poisonous. “Careful, Isabella. Small towns don’t forget. And some of us remember more than you’d like.”
The fry in my hand turns to ash.
Millie and Eleanor stalk off, perfume and venom trailing behind them, leaving the food court buzzing with whispers. Ruby still looks wrecked, shoulders tight, her burger untouched.
I lean back in my chair, fingers drumming against my phone. “What time are we going out tonight?”
Ruby blinks, caught off guard. “Eight. Why?”
“Because if Millie wants a show, I’ll give her one.”
Before she can stop me, I’ve already typed Maplewood Auto into Google, thumb hitting dial.
