Page 101 of Foolish Games

I was nothing but a joke to him.

As if that’s not bad enough, the whole school knows. The teacher can’t get them to shut up for the rest of homeroom. I ignore the questions pelting me from all directions. Everyone is talking about it in the hall. There’s a clamor of voices when people see me. There are notes in my locker when I get there after second period. I don’t even read them. I toss them and duck my head, holding my books to my chest and plodding to my next class.

I want to kill Sebastian.

But some stupid, stupid part of me still clings to some hope, some delusion that I couldn’t have been stupid enough to misread all of it. I couldn’t have felt so much for someone who felt nothing. It couldn’t have been completely one sided.

That stupid part of me is the one that has the courage to seek out the giant gangster on the football team and ask for Sebastian’s address.

The smart side of me knows Maddox won’t gossip. He’s not the type.

But he’ll give me an address.

That stupid side of me is the one in the driver’s seat that night when I pull up to the curb outside a depressing, tiny brick house in a decrepit neighborhood on the south side of town. A faded, navy blue Geo Prism sits at the curb already. They don’t even have a driveway to park their car in, let alone a garage full of foreign luxury cars.

So, this is where he lives. Now I know why he never invited me over, why he didn’t want me to drop him off at home. He was afraid I’d judge him.

I’m ashamed to admit I might have. I’ve always been so worried about what people would think. I always played it safe and strove for the highest in everything—the best grades, the best test scores, the best extracurriculars. Even the best boyfriend, someone suitable and safe and carrying the parental stamp of approval. I had to be the perfect daughter, the perfect example of a founding heir, just like my perfect cousin.

Now I’m under scrutiny from the whole school, and I’ve failed spectacularly at being perfect, or well-behaved, or an example for anyone to follow. I hate that I’ve let my parents down, let my family down. I hate that I’m standing on Sebastian’s front step right now, not caring if he’s the furthest thing from perfect or safe or predictable, or that he’d never get my parents’ approval.

I just want him to tell me it’s not true.

His little sister comes to the door, the freshman who I’ve seen around school a few times but never really talked to. She has a pair of headphones on and a portable CD player in one hand.

“You a Mormon or something?” she asks. “Because we’re not interested in your church.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m here to see Sebastian.”

“I think he’s sleeping.”

“It’s six o’clock,” I point out.

She sighs. “I’ll go check.”

She closes the door in my face. A minute later, Sebastian comes to the door. His hair is mussed and sticking up on one side, like he really was sleeping on it, and his eyes are bleary and unfocused. He’s wearing a pair of pajama pants low on his hips, and his tattooed chest is bare. I try not to get distracted by the sight of him all warm and sleepy, try not to remember those strong arms wrapped around me, cuddling me while we fell asleep together and he told me he wanted to wake up with me every day.

“I know about the bet.”

“What?” he asks, blinking at me without comprehension.

“The whole school knows,” I say, refusing to let my voice crack when my mind returns to the humiliation I faced every moment of the day. “They know it was all a game.”

“It wasn’t a game,” he says, seeming to come alive at my words. “I swear, Viv. It was just something the guys said at the very beginning. Before anything happened.”

“But you really did make a bet with your friends that you could sleep with me? That’s why you agreed to be my fake boyfriend?”

“No,” he says, stepping out and pulling the door closed behind him. “I mean, yes, I made a stupid bet with the guys at the start, but everything that happened after that… That’s not why I did all the stuff we did. I would have been your fake boyfriend forever just to keep hanging out. I—I’m crazy about you. So crazy I burned every single picture on the stack except yours.”

I manage a small laugh. “You were supposed to burn those when we broke up.”

“I could never get rid of your pictures,” he says. “You’re the only girl I ever want to look at again.”

My heart starts to melt, but I won’t let myself be swept away so easily. “You really did want to sleep with me?”

He lets out a snort of disbelief. “Yes, hell yes,” he says. “I shouldn’t have pushed you, but god, I couldn’t help myself. You’re so fucking sexy, Viv. I lose my mind when I look at you.”

“Did you want more than that?”

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