Page 65 of The Seemingly Impossible Love Life of Amanda Dean

Mandy nodded.

“People are selfish.” Lilia took a drink of her coffee. “I also think they do it because they either are too worried they’re missing something better, or they know something isn’t working andinstead of admitting it to themselves and being an adult and having an adult conversation, they fuck around.” She set her mug down. “That’s why I did it.”

Mandy’s brows shot up. “You cheated?” Lilia seemed so nice, but so had Brandon and V, and they still cheated on Mandy.

“Yep. And the guy I had been with was fine, but it just wasn’t working, and instead of talking about it, well…I made a bad decision. As soon as it happened, I felt terrible. But you can’t take things back. Once things are out there, they’re out there. You can’t unbake a cake.” Lilia cut another slice of her waffle off.

“Do you think that dating Evan is your way of getting back at yourself for what you did?” Mandy fingered her hair. It had grown out considerably, but she’d never forget that moment in the bathroom as long as she lived.

“Holy shit. Yeah. I guess maybe it is.” Lilia took a bite of her waffle and chewed slowly. “I’d never really thought about it like that.”

“So when do you stop punishing yourself?”

Lilia seemed to study Mandy. “That’s a great question.”

“We all fuck up sometimes, and like you said, you can’t unbake the cake, so you have to move forward.” How was it that Mandy was the one giving this advice? And to someone like Lilia. Smart and beautiful and a fucking Harvard Law School grad. “Are you going to forgive him this time?”

Lilia huffed. “Honestly?” She moved some bacon around in her syrup. “I might’ve considered it before, but not anymore.” She smiled. “You know, I’m glad I met you tonight,” Lilia said.

“I’m glad I met you too.”

Chapter Thirty-One

August 2007

How had Mandy everenjoyed going to the mall? As a teen she would spend hours there with her friends trying on clothes they were never going to buy—the more hideous the better—and sampling things held on trays from food court workers in weird hats. Those days seemed so long ago now—a blur of ugly dresses, and Cinnabon, and McDonald’s french fries with sweet and sour sauce—simpler times when homework, who kissed who, or who was caught smoking behind the gym were the only problems in the world.

Today the mall was packed, which was not unexpected with school starting up again for everyone. This year though, that included Mandy. She had finally done it. She applied to a few places and got into the art and design program—with a double major because of course Dad insisted—at USC. When the big envelope arrived in the mail, Mandy could hardly believe it. She had almost given up on the idea of college altogether until thattime she and Isa and had spent at the beach. She had said Mandy was capable of anything—words Mom would say to her often—but the way Isa looked at her, the timbre in her voice, something clicked. Or kicked her in the ass. She wanted Isa to be proud of her; she needed to prove to her that she was capable of anything, because maybe just maybe it was the way Mandy could start to make things right between them again. Not like the way things were, but better at least.

They had seen each other—as long as Tally didn’t mind—the few occasions Isa was home from college, but Mandy still hoped that they could get back to beingrealfriends. She never stopped missing Isa, and if friendship was all she could have, Mandy would be happy about it, ecstatic even. She needed Isa as a friend if nothing more.

So that day she and Isa sat down and applied to schools, Mandy thought it could be the magical thing she needed to get back into Isa’s good graces. Maybe Isa would start calling her again, and they could be more than casual friends who just spoke when Isa was back in town. When the acceptance came, Mandy was sure Mom told Isa’s mom, who had surely told Isa, but it hadn’t worked. They still hadn’t really spoken since the last time Isa had been home all those months ago.

The thing was, once USC said yes, Mandy didn’t want to say no. Even if it didn’t bring Isa back the way Mandy wanted. Even if they could never be real friends again, she wanted to go. A new chance at a new life awaited her, even if she could drive home whenever she wanted. It lit a spark inside Mandy she had thought all but burned out long before.

“We should get you one of those little things so you can carryall your shower necessities with you to the bathroom.” Mom’s voice brought Mandy back to the task at hand. Buying all the “essentials” for her dorm, as Mom called it.

Mandy was the age of most juniors, but with her time in Europe, and all the time she spent home working at Grace’s, she was starting as a freshman and decided even if she was the oldest in the dorm, she should experience all college had to offer—which meant shower shoes and communal living. Sharing a bathroom was not something she was used to, but how bad could it really be?

Mom pulled Mandy into Pottery Barn to pick out new linens for her dorm bed. A twin-sized mattress was also something Mandy wasn’t used to, but if it was comfortable Mandy didn’t think a smaller size would be an issue. As long as she had a bed, she told herself, she’d be happy. But Mom was all about trying to make Mandy as comfortable as possible, and that included decorating her room—which Mom was possibly more excited about than she was.

“These are cute.” Mandy held up a pack of sheets that were mostly white but had a bunch of different-colored hearts all over them.

Mom wrinkled her nose. “What’s the thread count?”

Was there a difference? Mandy handed the pack to Mom because she didn’t even know where to look for such information.

Mom grunted. “I think we can do better. Plus, aren’t the school colors red and gold?”

Mandy was sure that didn’t matter, but she wasn’t going to get into that either. And she really didn’t care what her sheets looked like. She’d be sleeping on them, not wearing them to class. “Yep, you’re right, Mom.” This answer made Mom smile, and Mandy used it to her advantage. “I think I need some caffeine, and you’reso much better at this than me. Why don’t I go grab us some Starbucks? I’m sure I’ll love whatever you pick out.”

Mom huffed, but then glanced around as if weighing whether Mandy would in fact be helpful or just in the way of her design plans. “You know we only have today to do this; tomorrow you have a hair appointment, and your father’s colleague is having us over, and—”

“I know. And we’ll get it all done. Caffeine will help. Promise.”

Mom seemed to consider this more than she considered the sheets Mandy had selected. “I suppose a nonfat sugar-free vanilla latte would be nice.”

“You’re the best.” Mandy kissed Mom’s cheek.

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