Page 32 of Never Ever Getting Back Together

“Well, I have to make sure I get to everyone tonight,” Jordy says, standing abruptly. “But I might talk to you more later? See how we go.”

I press my lips together, stunned, and my cheeks start to roast with heat.

God, what am I doing here? It was ridiculous for me to think I could pull this off. How did I not realize how difficult it would be to make Jordy fall for me now, when I couldn’t even keep him interested the first time around? How can I possibly hold a normal, intimate conversation with Jordy when half of me is terrified he might worm his way in and make me forget what I know about him, and the other halfof me wants to claw him? It was an impossible goal from the start. I should’ve seen it.

But I see it perfectly now.

“I’d like that,” I say.

“I think tonight’s going to go fast, though,” he says. “We might not get a chance.”

Message received.

“That’s fine,” I say crisply.

“Could you send Perrie over here?” he asks, and that pushes my patience one step too far.

“Sure, Jordy,” I snap. “You could probably have gone to ask her yourself, but I guess you’re used to being waited on these days, huh?”

The camera blinks one red eye in my direction. Watching closely.

Jordy frowns. “Wait, Maya, are you okay? You seem upset.”

I storm off without replying, the camera operator hot on my trail. The group lounging on the love seats turns to look at me as one as I reemerge from the hedges. Skye and I lock eyes, and I scowl at her, before turning to Perrie. “Your turn, sweetie,” I say.

Perrie gets up, but she seems concerned. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Nothing,” I say. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I’mfine.But, you should all know”—I turn to the girls here—“I know Jordy pretty well. And he acts all sweet, and sincere, and he makes you feel like you’re the most important person in the world. But it’s an act. One he hasperfected.Sometimes he almost fools me. But he doesn’t mean anything he says. He doesn’t care about you, any more than he cares about me. He cares about himself, and what he can get out of any of you, at any given time.”

I know the cameras are on, but screw the cameras. If I’m going out, I’m saying my piece. Maybe some people watching will believe me.Someone’sgot to.

The girls gape at me, speechless, and Perrie grabs my arm. “What happened?” she presses.

“Not now,” I say. “I’ll explain after, but not now. Can you please just go talk to Jordy? I’ll be fine. I just… want to be alone for a second.”

Perrie hesitates, her brow drawn together, but then, finally, she nods and leaves. The camera stays on me for a bit, but when it becomes clear I’m not going to start throwing chairs in the pool or screaming about men and their stupid faces, I’m left in peace. I make a beeline for the wineglasses with the intention of trying to choke one down, sour swamp water or not, only to find a tray of Jell-O shots lined up.

Oh, hell yes. This is much more my speed.

I suck one down, and grimace. There’s so much alcohol in these it tastes a little like nail polish remover. But, you know, nail polish remover with a pleasant fruity aftertaste, at least. I do another, and another, until I have a whole collection of empty plastic shot glasses on the table in front of me. I have no idea how many drinks this is, and I don’t especially care. I amcalm,I amprofessional,and I am going to get so shitfaced off Jell-O I won’t remember a second of this cursed night.

I grab a couple shots for the road, then, with absolutely zero urge to join the love seat crew without Perrie there, but no one else to talk to, I walk with purpose across the garden and find a spot where the trees and bushes more or less hide me from the eyes of the others while I knock back another shot. When I lower the cup, I catch sight of a camera operator across the garden, his camera fixed right on me.

Turns out the only thing worse than being the rejectedloser no one wants to talk to at the party is being rejectedon camera,to be streamed to millions.

My instincts take over, and I jump back into the trees. If I can’t see the camera, it can’t see me, right? I hide in there for what feels like a lifetime, but is probably only a few minutes, picking at the Jell-O in the remaining shot until I work up enough bravery to go back out. I half expect the operator to be waiting for me, so he can film me meekly reemerging from the bushes with an empty shot glass for the kids watching at home, but thankfully he’s wandered off by now.

I head closer to the fairy-lit gazebo to check if Jordy has released Perrie yet. To my dismay, I can still make her out in his clutches. Figuratively, sure, but it isstill distressing.I’m tempted to charge over there and make up an excuse to rescue her from the conversation. The only thing that stops me is the small chance that Perrie might actually be enjoying her talk with Jordy. I mean, I can’t relate, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. And if she is, I’ll only ruin her night.

I hesitate, not totally sure where to go, and that’s when I hear my name murmured. I creep closer to the hedges, and tune in to a conversation between two of the producers I don’t know the names of yet.

“… Gwendolyn will be disappointed, though,” the first woman is saying. “I think she saw her as a front-runner. They were together for a while.”

“And Isaac will bepissedto be the first to lose a girl,” says the other.

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