Page 45 of Death is My BFF

“You should be in theater.”

“I can’t believe this. What am I lately, chopped liver?” She inhaled sharply and pressed a hand to her chest. “Am Iolive loaf?”

“What’s so bad about olive loaf?” I pursed my lips and gave a little shrug. “I like olive loaf.”

She gagged and held up her palm. “Girl, I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d freak out. I had no idea how the date would go, and I was so nervous.” Technically the nervous part wasn’t a lie. It was no walk in the park to converse with a guy who could probably toast marshmallows on his own blistering hot abs. “The entire night, I could literallyfeelthe droplets of sweat amalgamating into one big swimming pool of anxiety in my bra,” I told her.

“Amalga-huh? Babe, what language do you speak? To hell with your nerves! Have you seen his lips? They’re luscious. You should have grabbed him by his hunky shoulders and tongued that beautiful model mouth!”

I grimaced a little at the “tongued” part, although David’s lipswerethe Bermuda Triangle of kisses. I’d felt his lips on my cheek, soft and enticing. One could get lost kissing lips like those . . .

Shaking myself from my thoughts, I seized Marcy’s empty cereal bowl and placed it in the dishwasher.Damn you, raging hormones.

This would be so much easier if you’d stop swooning over David andloathe him again!

“I need a moment to process,” Marcy said, slumping miserably on her stool. “I can’t believe we ditched David Star.”

“We?”

“I’m dating him vicariously through you,” she explained.

“We’re not dating, Marcy.” With a roll of my eyes, I drew open the double doors to the food pantry. Cue the angel’s chorus. I marveled at the rainbowesque display of cereal boxes and junk food crowding the shelves Mom had stocked before flying to Hawaii with Dad. Too bad I couldn’t stomach anything all week. I felt so weak and restless; maybe eating would make me feel better.

Resurrecting my lack of appetite required sugar. I thought about the strawberry frosted cupcakes Marcy made for my birthday and strode across the kitchen to open the freezer.Take a wild guess,cupcake.

I slammed the freezer door shut.

“Yeah,” I said, dragging in an unsteady breath. “No more cupcakes for a while.”

I twisted around and there was Marcy, eyeing me like I was batshit crazy.

“Maybe it’s better I don’t contact David,” I said, as I rubbed the back of my neck. “I’ve got a lot of stress with applying to college and an AP Chem test next week . . . ”

“I love you, but you’re overreacting. Honestly, it sounds like you had a great time.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “I think you liiike him.”

Spending time with David had changed my perception of him, and now I knew he was so much more than what the tabloids claimed—funny, playful, and hardworking. He was a great listener, too, and drank in every word I said. If it was all an act, I’d almost bought it hook, line, and sinker.

However . . .

Although David’s unusual behavior during the interview was forgiven, it was not forgotten. A part of me still didn’t understand his interest in me either. A rich celebrity who liked me? Come on.

Call it paranoia, call it intuition—whatever it was, I had a feeling my rejection at Thomas’s party and then again at the interview was what drove David to the carnival. I didn’t have the energy for some two-faced megalomaniac who was toying with me to see if he could get into my pants.

“I have an idea,” Marcy said. “It’s an hour train ride, right? Why don’t you visit David at the D&S Tower and talk with him in person?”

“And what, show the broad-shouldered brooder with ego issues that my love is his redemption? This isn’t a romance novel.”

“Broad-shouldered brooder with ego issues? Yummy.”

“You are on another level, sister. I hardly know the guy, and I’m going to show up at his office again? It’s too late in the day, plus it’s Friday and my parents get back from their trip at nine tonight.”

“If you get dressed, I can drive you to the train station and you’ll be at the tower by five. You can totally be back by eight. His father is a workaholic, he probably keeps David there past five anyway.”

“Even if I wanted to go, I don’t have enough money for a train ticket.”

“I’ll spot you!”

---