Page 57 of From Now On

I groan. Ever since she heard me singing in the shower once, Harlow has tried to talk me into singing in public. She’s right; last night I would have been drunk enough to do it.

“Girl-on-girl action before breakfast? Spring break is thebest.”

Harlow flips Aidan off as he saunters past us, tugging a sweatshirt over his bed head.

He laughs, then calls, “Nice to see you vertical, Eve,” over one shoulder.

My cheeks burn as I head into the bathroom and close the door.

I look like hell. I’m not sure that’s an accurate description, actually, because hell is supposedly red and fiery. I look pale and pasty. Tangled hair, sickly pallor, and dark circles stare back at me in the mirror.

Bad decisions, Eve, I tell my reflection.

I brush my teeth—twice—before washing my face. I scrub so hard my complexion is splotchy after rinsing. It’s an improvement to my appearance, sadly. I pee, wash my hands, and then pull my hair back into a ponytail with the elastic on my wrist. There’s a bottle of painkillers in the medicine cabinet. I swallow one before stepping back into the hallway, feeling marginally more human.

Harlow’s still in the hallway, but she’s not alone. In fact, I can barely see my best friend past the guy she’s playing tonsil hockey with.

An ache echoes in the center of my chest.

I’ve witnessed Harlow around plenty of guys. She’s that effortless combination of gorgeous and cool, the girl who always knows what to say and how to act. That attracts a lot of male attention. I’ve watched her interact with the opposite sex with amusement and a little envy at how easy she made flirting look. Even happily committed to Ben, I envied that allure. Wondered what it would be like to have guys tripping over themselves to talk to you. To be near you.

Ben made me happy. He made me feel secure and supported. But he never made me feelwanted. I neverneededhim, not in the way Conor and Harlow’s tight embrace suggests.

Seeing Harlow with Conor, I feel like a voyeur. They’re sobrighttogether, happiness emanating like beams radiating from the sun.

Harlow has never looked that lit up with anyone else.

Ben and I weren’t that bright. At most, we were a dim glow, like one of those energy-saving lightbulbs. Content and unremarkable.

I clear my throat. “Get a room, guys.”

I hear Harlow laugh before Conor moves to the side. He glances at my best friend. Smiles. “We would’ve, but my girlfriend spent the night in yours.”

Harlow smacks his bicep.

Guilt floods me. I assumed Harlow was in my bedroom waiting for me to wake up, not that she’d spent all night in that armchair.

“Shit. I’msosorry?—”

Harlow cuts me off. “Don’t apologize again. And—” She glances at Conor. “Don’t feel bad for him. He got laidandgot to hog the whole bed last night.”

“I’m not a bed hog,” Conor protests. “I’m just taller. It’s not my fault I take up more space than you do.”

Harlow rolls her eyes before grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the stairs.

Rylan’s standing at the stove cooking eggs when I enter the kitchen. Aidan’s draped over her, his chin on her shoulder and his arms wrapped around her waist.

Another ache appears. Going on a trip with two madly in love couples fresh off a breakup was not my best idea. Not only are there the constant reminders of my single status, there are also the frequent examples that my relationship lacked more than I realized.

“Hey! Morning!” Rylan says when she spots me. “Want some eggs?”

I nod. “Yes, please.”

There’s a pot of coffee sitting out on the counter. I hunt through the cabinets until I find a mug, filling it nearly to the brim before taking a seat at the kitchen table. Even black, it’s the best thing I’ve tasted. Rich and hot and invigorating.

Harlow plops a blue bottle of Gatorade down in front of me. “Drink this too.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

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