Page 78 of Just Don't Call Me Yours

“I’m just saying,” she says, waving a hand in my direction. “This is very much a look that could break some hearts.”

A smile pulls at my lips, but I try to hide it. “I don’t want to break anyone’s heart.”

I just want the guy who’s leaving to notice me.

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Margot just got here, and holy fuck.

I thought about trying to make her jealous. It wouldn’t be hard. She admitted to getting jealous at the show. I figured I’d find a girl willing to talk to me and lay it on a little thick. I thought she’d get mad, and I’d be able to call her out on her bluff.

But now?

I nearly choked on my drink as soon as she walked in here, and I’m still not sure if my jaw is lying on the floor at my feet. Forget making her jealous. All I care about is making her look my way.

Because she hasn’t yet, and it’s killing me.

I finish off my beer and pour myself another from the pitcher. The Irish pub in town is notorious for not checking IDs, so this was the obvious place for a going away party. It doesn’t matter that the floors are always sticky and the place reeks of fried food. They give us booze, so we give them money.

It was Izzy’s idea to come here. Matt and Rae mentioned throwing me a party, which I told them wasn’t necessary. Then Izzy heard about it and took over completely. For the past three days, she asked me for my favorite color at least twelve times. My only response was, “No balloons.”

There are balloons. She went with red, blue, and black. So, now it looks like a Spiderman-themed birthday party for a ten-year-old.

Matt gets up from the table to greet Rae, and I follow because I’m lost, stupid, and three beers in.

And my God, she’s pretty.

My knuckles turn white as I grip the glass in my hand. I was relaxed a second ago, but that was before I saw her. I’ve missed her the past few days, but I’ve mostly been with the band. With finals out of the way, there wasn’t much of a reason to hang around campus—especially with Margot avoiding me like the plague.

Maybe that was better, though. Because as much as I’ve missed her, nothing compares to the relentless ache seeing her is giving me now. I want to pull her to my side and kiss her. I want her to wrap her arms around me and look up at me with those warm, mahogany eyes like she did at my gig last weekend. I want to make her smile again.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey,” I say, trying to recover from staring at her. “You look?—”

Her eyes widen, and I catch myself before accidentally complimenting her in front of Rae and Matt. Rae looks like she’s already caught on, though. She lifts her brow, and I can’t help wondering what she’s thinking.

I blink, snapping out of my Margo-induced daze.

Why do I care? Why does it matter if Rae and Matt know I like Margot?

It doesn’t.

I’m leaving. After this weekend, Margot won’t be the girl across the hall anymore, and if I want her to be anything at all, I need to do something about it.

“You look incredible,” I say with more conviction.

Margot’s eyes widen again, but this time it’s not a warning. Surprise is written clearly in them before they dart to Rae. When she looks my way again, her cheeks are pink. Her response either means she liked what I said, or she’s about to give me hell for it.

Not sure which one yet.

Rae’s mouth pulls upward. “She does, doesn’t she?” Margot glares at her, but Rae doesn’t seem to care. “She wasn’t even going to come tonight, but she made sure she looked amazing by the time we left.” Her eyebrows lift at Margot, challenging her.

All I can focus on is the first part. “You didn’t plan on coming?” I ask, more surprised than I should be. She’s pissed at me. I get that. But she means something to me, and I figured I meant something to her. Did she plan on letting me move out this weekend without saying goodbye?

As soon as the thought hits me, I know that’s exactly what her plan was.

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