Page 32 of Celebrities Don't Date Bookworms

“Harder than it seems, isn’t it?” Bay asked.

“Shush, I’m trying to think.” The only secret that I was actively keeping from Sloane was about the group chat, and he obviously knew that, so I was probably going to need to think of some obscure fact that I didn’t usually think about to give him. “I think crocs are the most comfortable shoes in the world, even if they’re kind of ugly.”

“Hm…. Can I share a second secret?” Bay asked. I made a noise of approval. “I’ve never owned a pair of crocs.”

I gasped. “What? How come?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “My parents just never bought them for me as a kid.”

“Well, we need to rectify that immediately.”

“I’ll get right on it. In fact, I’ll go buy them tomorrow. What color should I get?”

“Well, I have pink ones,” I said. “So you could get the same color and we could match.”

I expected him to immediately veto the idea, but instead, he said in a fond voice, “Sounds perfect. It’s too bad we wouldn’t be able to wear them at school, though.”

“If we could, then we would realize each other’s identities,” I said.

“Would that be so bad?”

Yes.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Would it?”

His silence was enough to answer me. At least we were on the same page: on the phone, good. In real life, bad.

“I’m glad you called me,” he whispered. “Even if it was by accident.”

“I’m glad I called you,” I echoed. “And next time, it won’t be an accident.”

“Next time?” he asked.

“Next time,” I repeated firmly, as if that was enough of an answer.

And I guess it was.

six

“Why don’tyou girls head to the food court while I pay for the shirts?” Mom smiled at us knowingly—the only part about the mall that I liked was the food.

“Thanks, Ana!” Sloane said. Yes, she was on a first name basis with my mom, while I still called hers “Mrs. Evans” after more than ten years of knowing each other. I wasn’t bitter about it. Note the sarcasm.

Sloane grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the long line that had practically taken over the back half of the clothing store. I’d told my mom that going to the mall on a Saturday afternoon was a bad idea, but she refused to listen to me. She kept insisting that I absolutely needed to get a new uniform shirt before school on Monday (as if I didn’t have like five others), and she wouldn’t listen when I said we could come after school one day when there would be fewer people.

Sloane expertly weaved us between racks of clothing and around mannequins until we finallywalked through the door and into the airy, large hallway of the mall. It felt like the volume got turned up as we made our way into the yelling crowds of people.

“I’m totally craving a soft pretzel right now,” Sloane said. “Mind if we go there first?”

“Sure,” I said. I was well used to Sloane’s random cravings by now. I was happy for her to just lead wherever she wanted to go, and I followed behind, just happy to be included. The fewer decisions I had to make in my life, the better.

“I’m so glad your mom is making you get new shirts for school,” Sloane said. She shook her head. “You probably would have worn the stained ones to school.”

“Would that be an issue?” I asked with a laugh. “I do that all the time.”

“Well, yes, but it was different before.” She waggled her eyebrows at me. “It was before you met the mega hot boy band member who will be in all our classes.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sloane, we’ve talked about this. He’s not going to be in our classes. And even if he is, he won’t be paying any attention to me or whether my shirt has a stain on it.”

---