Page 72 of Zero Chance

“I got bangs,” I muttered petulantly and bowed my face in the hopes of hiding my hurt feelings, only for said bangs to sweep across my vision and annoy me enough to look up again and narrow my eyes at the aggravating boy who never thought anything about me was nice.

He was still just staring at me with frozen horror.

Seriously, it was as if someone had put him on pause.

Growing defensive, I added, “Oaklynn cut them.”

“Oaklynn?”he echoed, finally rebooting enough to furrow his brow.“MyOaklynn?”

I sent him a get-real frown.“Pretty sure she’s Damien’s Oaklynn.”

He snorted out his annoyance and narrowed his eyes.“You know what I meant.”Shaking his head, he demanded, “When the hell did she do that?I just saw youyesterday.”

For a brief moment, I thought he was referring to last night, outside on the gazebo, and I panicked, afraid heknew.Because paranoia was real and alive inside me.

But then I realized he meant yesterday afternoon in this very spot when he, Xander, and Alec had gathered around the checkout counter.

Wow, had that only been yesterday?

To me, a whole other lifetime had passed, as if my deception had caused a split in time, and now there was only the before and the after.

“Well, she did it yesterday,” I spat, hoping he didn’t press this issue because?—

“Yesterdaywhen?”he pressed.

Grr.The turd.

No way could I tell him when.Then he’d know I’d been at his house, and he might be able to piece together enough clues to figure out the truth.

So I scowled at him and demanded, “Does it matter?”

Scowling back, he muttered, “No.It’s just—It’s so—” He motioned toward my bangs as if that would help him convey his meaning, but I had no clue what he was trying to say, and when he saw my expression, he dropped his hands uselessly into his lap, seemingly defeated and unable to complete his sentence.

It stung.

A small part of me had hoped he’d like the new look and—I don’t know—finally notice me.But that was stupid, and I kind of hated that stupid, hopefully immature part of myself.Later, I knew I’d let it weigh me down.It was currently being tossed in the pit, and from here on out, it was going to be a regular monster that came slithering free, infesting my dark thoughts whenever I felt low.

He hates your hair.

Just as much as he hates you.

You’re nothing.

Worthless.

But at that moment, my anger was keeping a firm seal on the lid of the pit, and it was in control of my emotions.I snarled at Keene for not adoring my new look, and I hissed, “Look.I’m sorry if you don’t like my hair, but?—”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” he cut in, clearly offended that I would dare guess how he felt about anything.

When I blinked at him in disbelief because his reaction sure wasn’t screaming affection, he rolled his eyes and grumbled something under his breath before saying to me, “It’s just…different.”

I tipped my head, letting him know that didn’t explain shit.

He exhaled with another frustrated sound and motioned to me.“You’re just—you’re not supposed to change anything.”Glancing away as if loath to admit the next part, he mumbled, “You’re one of my anchors.”

My mouth opened, but it took a moment for the words to come.“I’m one of your…what?”

He heaved out an impatient sigh, then began to roll his hand as if encouraging me to catch on faster as he explained, “Okay, maybe you’ve never noticed this, but I tend to be a little…frenetic.”

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