Page 161 of The Fake Date Agreement

I wish I hadn’t heard those words.

The sadness and the lost look in her eyes in the arena amounts to one thing. “You came here to end things.”

“I’m not enough for you.”

“You are everything to us. Why would you think you weren’t?”

“Maybe now,” she says eventually. “But that won’t always be true.”

I get angry all over again. “Did Marc tell you that?” Distracted by her soft smile, I ask. “What is it?”

“Max wants to kick him down a flight of stairs. I thought she was joking before, but I think she really meant it.”

“After he tried to punch Caleb, he deserves it.”

Her smile fades. “Maybe he does. I’m hopeful about the small things. Like, if I accidentally put a red sock in the laundry, I’m sure all my white clothes won’t come out pink, you know?”

I nod. “And the big things?”

“Well, I always expect the big things to blow up in my face.”

“Why do you think that is?” I ask her quietly.

“Because they always do.”

She told me about her mom’s death. A stomach pain her mom told her not to worry about turned into a late cancer diagnosis that devastated her and her dad. How she nearly gave up going to college to stay close to him. Then her health tanked, and she lost control of the only thing she felt she had any control over—her body.

And now Marc.

“Come here.” I draw her into a hug. “I wish I knew the perfect thing to say, but you taught me the power of a hug and how much it can help.”

She hugs me back.

“This big thing won’t blow up in your face, Tobie.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” I pull back to look at her. “What are your plans for spring break?”

“I’m going home to see my dad.”

“Do you think you can stay for a couple of days?”

“In Lamont?”

I nod. “And when that idiot works out he’s lost the best girl he’ll ever have and comes crawling back to you, can you hold up on taking him back until after? If that’s what you want.”

“You seem really certain it’s a foregone conclusion that Marc will suddenly start seeing me as the best thing ever.”

“You are.”

“I’m not. And if he did, it would only be because of what you did.”

I sit back on my heels. “Because of whatIdid?”

She gestures to her skirt and the blouse she’s tucked into it. “The clothes and the makeup lessons.”

I stroke my finger along her jaw. “You don’t need all this to be beautiful. If that asshole only sees you when you’re in makeup and a dress, he doesn’t deserve to see you at all.”

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