Page 78 of All's Fair in Love and Blackmail

“I’m trying to fill out my dating profile,” I say. “And then I’ll need to get ready to go. I’m going to the movies with Felix in…” I glance at the clock at the top of my screen. “In an hour.”

Juliet’s skeptical gaze travels over me. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

“Obviously not,” I say, rolling my eyes. “These are pajamas.”

Her nose wrinkles. “But are you going to wear a t-shirt and shorts?” she says, as though the very thought is distasteful.

“Maybe,” I say, my voice defensive. In truth, yes. That’s exactly what I plan on wearing. “There’s nothing wrong with a t-shirt and shorts.”

“There’s not,” she says with a sigh, “but isn’t this your last outing with him? For his article thing?”

I pick at a loose thread on my blue comforter. “So?”

“So,” she says, more exasperated still, “you like him.”

My eyes drop to the computer screen in front of me, where the cursor is blinking menacingly at the top of a very empty biography field. “Only a little.”

“So don’t you think it would be fun to make this excursion actually romantic?” she says, and when I glance up at her, her eyes are sparkling.

Oh, no. I know that look.

Juliet wants to play dress-up. Some girls grow out of it; she never has.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Nope.”

“Come on, Indy,” she says. She hops off her bed and comes over to mine, sitting next to me, her expression hopeful. “This could be your last chance!”

“My last chance to do what, exactly?” I say with a snort.

“To woo him!” she says. “To seduce him with your feminine wiles!” She grabs me by the arm and gives me a little shake. “Just let me pick your outfit. Please?”

“Nope.” I shake my head again, harder this time. “Absolutely not.”

“It won’t be bad!” she says quickly. “You’ll just be a little more put together, that’s all! Spritz some perfume, do a bit of mascara, I’ll do your hair—please?Please?”

I hate that part of me is tempted.

“I’m not going to change the way I look just to get the interest of a man?—”

“Oh, stop it,” Juliet says, scoffing. “Dressing up occasionally is not changing the way you look. No one wears the same thing all the time, no matter the situation. People dress up to go to church. They dress up to go on dates. They dress up to go to weddings?—”

“I get it,” I say. “I get it. But Jules—” I sigh. “There’s no point. Felix isn’t interested in me.”

“You don’t know that. The two of you had a moment!” she cries. “You had a moment, and that means it’s possible. Come on.”

I think back to the way he so casually shrugged off the idea of us dating. “Idoknow?—”

She stands up and tugs on my arm, cutting me off. “Get up. We don’t have much time.”

“It’s not for another hour.”

“I need all of that hour,” she says. “Give it this one last try, Indy. If nothing happens today, if you don’t think he’s interested at all, then fine. But at least try! Make yourself look nice. Flirt with the boy. See what happens.”

She looks so excited, so enthusiastic, that I find myself wavering. There’s an idiotic little part of me that still wants to hope, too, instead of shutting all my feelings down.

And, maybe more than either of those things—I think I might regret not trying. In fact, on a list of things I would regret if I died tomorrow, not telling Felix how I feel would be pretty close to the top.

“I—fine. Fine,” I say with a sigh. “But,” I go on as she squeals, “later tonight, you are going to help me with this dating profile. Okay?”

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