Page 99 of The Ruse

I closed my eyes and gulped.

Nothing like a new image to keep my mind busy when my head hits my pillow tonight.

Once I was done, Elyse spun on her heel and thanked me for my assistance. “And if you could just go back into the closet for another minute, I’ll hurry and change.”

“Sure,” I said, not realizing until that moment that my fingers were twitching from the feel of her skin.

I stepped back inside the closet, shut the door, and tried really, really hard not to picture what was happening on the other side.

When that didn’t work so great, I pinched my eyes shut tight and forced myself to imagine her about a hundred years older with thousands of wrinkles and wearing a palm-tree-patterned muumuu.

There were some rustling sounds, and another minute later, she said, “Okay, I’m decent. You can come out now.”

I slid the door open. But instead of the muumuu I’d been imagining, Elyse was wearing a silky black button-up pajama shirt with matching pants.

Was she still wearing that black bra underneath?

Stop thinking about it, Asher!

I must be craving Elyse really bad or something, because Bailee used to prance around her room wearing her skimpy workout clothes and I’d barely batted an eye. But one look at Elyse’s back and my brain was buzzing.

How in the world was I going to keep from completely short-circuiting when she wore the corset dresses Christine wore for the musical? I mean, I’d never seen Elyse in anything with a low neckline before, but just from the shape of her body, I knew my eyes would have a hard time focusing on her face at all times.

Grandma wearing a muumuu. Grandma wearing a muumuu.

“What did you say?” Elyse asked.

“Uh, nothing.”

Had I said that out loud?

She gave me a funny look like she thought I might be crazy, but then she shrugged and sat against a pile of pillows on her bed.

“So now that Heather thinks I’m headed to bed all alone in here tonight,” she said. “I think it’s time I hear this story about how you were never really in love with the girl everyone thought you adored.”

“Okay…” I looked around for a place to sit. They didn’t have a couch in here like Bailee used to have, and Ava probably wouldn’t like me sitting on her bed. My gaze landed on the desk chair she’d pulled out earlier. I swiveled it around and pulled it close to the foot of Elyse’s bed.

I was about to sit when she stopped me and said, “Actually, could you switch off the light real quick? Heather might notice the light coming from under my door.”

“Sure.”

I flipped the switch on the wall and was about to fumble my way back to my seat when the string lights above our heads turned on, bathing the room in a gentle glow.

“Okay, so I guess I should just start at the beginning?” I asked.

“That’s usually a good place to start.” She pulled a fuzzy gray blanket over her lap.

“Well…” I licked my lips. “I guess it all started last winter when we were doingLes Misérables. Bailee and I had been in the drama program together since freshman year but didn’t really hang out outside of that. Anyway, she came to rehearsal one day last January with tears in her eyes. After trying to push through the scene we were supposed to be working on that day and failing, I asked her what was wrong.”

I could still see the heartbreak in her blue eyes and the mascara smudges on her cheeks. She’d always been so put together before—never a hair out of place. So I knew something must be wrong for her to come to rehearsal looking like that.

“After crying on my shoulder for a long time, she told me that she’d broken up with this guy she’d been dating. I guess they’d been pretty serious and had been dating under the radar since summer break. I’d never seen her with him at school, so I had no idea who he was or when they’d had time to see each other. But from how torn up she seemed, I figured that they must have been really close.”

I adjusted my position on the chair to get more comfortable. “Anyway, she stopped crying eventually, rehearsal ended, and I expected things to just go back to normal between us. She’d continue thriving in her popularity bubble. I’d continue to lie low while playing the occasional prank on Nash.”

“So at least your rivalry with Nash has always been real.” The corner of Elyse’s lip quirked up.

“Yes,” I said, daring a half-smile back. “I don’t think that’s something I’d brag about if it wasn’t real.”

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