Page 25 of Don't Puck His Best Friend
“Nope.” I shove my phone under a stack of notebooks. “I don’t even want to know what it says.”
“Harper—”
“Nope. Not happening. I’m pretending this never happened and going back to my very important research on why police do what they do.”
But Maddie’s already moving, lunging across the table with the reflexes of someone who clearly spent too much time wrestling with siblings growing up. She snatches my phone before I can react, holding it triumphantly above her head.
“Hey!” I make a grab for it, but she’s already unlocking it with muscle memory from all the times she’s stolen my phone to take unflattering selfies. “Give that back!”
“Relax, I’ll just read it and give you the executive summary.”
“That’s worse than reading it myself.”
Maddie clears her throat dramatically like she’s about to perform Shakespeare, then reads aloud in an exaggerated serious voice: “Busted liking my old pictures, Trouble. Miss me? I saw you unliked it, so are you gonna confess or make me drag it out of you?”
Heat creeps up my neck like I’ve just stepped into a sauna fully clothed. “Oh my god.” I press my hands over my face, wishing I could disappear into the floor. “That’s absolutely mortifying.”
“It’s also totally a Liam thing to say,” Maddie says, laughing. “I mean, the confidence alone...”
I shake my head vigorously. “Exactly why I’m ignoring it. This is exactly the kind of cocky bullshit I don’t need in my life.”
“Wait, does he have a nickname for you?” Maddie’s grin turns positively wicked. “Trouble? That’s actually kind of hot.”
“No, it’s not.”
“It’s a little hot.”
“It’s presumptuous and annoying.”
“Presumptuous, annoying, and hot.”
I grab my highlighter and wave it at her threateningly. “I will throw this at your head.”
She dodges with practiced ease, then shifts gears. “Speaking of Liam, there’s a party tonight. Sirus invited me.”
“Have fun,” I say, turning back to my textbook with forced concentration.
“You should come.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Come on, it’ll be fun. Music, dancing, beer in red Solo cups—”
“All the more reason to stay home with my pajamas and bad Netflix movies.”
Maddie rolls her eyes. “Fine, I’ll go by myself and tell everyone my cousin is boring and has given up on human interaction.”
“Tell them I said hi.”
Before she can launch into another round of persuasion, my phone buzzes again. We both look at it like it might bite us.
“Another one,” Maddie says gleefully.
This time I grab the phone before she can, reading the message myself.
Party tonight. Come.
My fingers move before my brain can intervene.
