Page 4 of Can't Get Over You
“Why do you care?” She was a little too heated, too emotional, and she didn’t want him to see her as some pathetic loser.
“Because I do. Now, spit it out.”
“Fine. It said,‘Finlay, you can’t be our friend anymore. And don’t give us your stupid puppy-dog eyes. It won’t work.’”
She could’ve sworn his features hardened, but she was probably reading into it, looking for the support she wanted. Because, in reality, he didn’t say a word. He just stood there, giving her no emotion whatsoever. Her heart seized up.
But she had to shake it off. He didn’t have to join her in hating Leia Collins. “Well, thank you for catching the raccoon. I still won’t sleep tonight, but it’s better than running away from home when I’m so close to graduating.” She smiled, hoping he’d get the humor.
He didn’t. “No problem.”
As he headed for the door, her pulse rioted. Because he was leaving. And it struck her that, in a matter of weeks, schoolwould end. All the moments she lived for—waiting for him to saunter into Algebra or pass her in the hallway on his way to gym—would be gone. Over.
Forever.
This obsession had filled her every waking hour, kept her company, and let her escape into a world of fantasy. And not once in all these years had she let him know how she felt. She’d never asked him to go for a hike or get a smoothie. Nothing.
Did she really want to wonder if something could’ve happened between them if she’d only had the courage to ask him out?
The moment his hand closed over the doorknob, she blurted out, “Do you want to go to prom with me?”
He shot a look over his shoulder. “Prom?”
Shame burned a path from deep in her gut all the way up to her earlobes.
He’d spat the word out as if she’d asked him to play Barbies. He might’ve been a senior at Calamity Falls High School, but he was nothing like the other kids. He didn’t go to football games or dances. He cruised on the outer edges.
“What happened?” he asked. “Your date bail on you?”
It was a fair question. The dance was in a few hours, after all. But she shook her head. “I don’t have one.”
“Why not?” He seemed truly confused, which, she supposed, was flattering.
“No one asked me.” It drove it home, though, how different their experiences were. She wasn’t a nerd or an outcast or anything like that. She was friendly with a bunch of different people, but she didn’t have a group of her own.
And she’d never had a boyfriend.
Because she’d only ever wantedhim.
He grew thoughtful. “I saw your vision board.”
Oh God.
She wanted the floor to give way so she could go crashing to the bottom of the earth.
She’d been so worked up over the raccoon, she hadn’t considered that Jude McKenna had beenin her bedroom.
What else had he seen? Her bras. Her underwear?
Oh, please. Not the journal. She’d for sure left it out. She knew that because she’d been writing in it.
Had he noticed his name scrawled all over it?
Drowning in mortification, her chest squeezed tightly. She could barely take a full breath.
“I’m not that guy,” he said.
“What guy?” Her voice came out as a hoarse whisper.
