Page 3 of Second Chance Ex
“What kind of best friend do you think I am, Prue?”
I want to remind her that it wouldn’t be the first time she’s ditched me for a boy, but I bite my tongue instead.
Madison falls back in line with me. She links herarm through mine and gushes as she says, “Oh, Prue, I’m so in love with him.”
In love?I suppress an eye roll.
“He’s so nice, and funny, and I know you wouldn’t think it to look at him, but he’s actually really smart. He’s going to USC to study business, and when he graduates, he’s coming straight back here to take over his father’s real estate brokerage.”
I nod, although I’m not really listening because I’ve heard it all at least seventeen times over the past few days.
“Do you think I should have sex with him?”
I balk. “Uh, no. I don’t. At all!”
She just blinks at me, clearly oblivious. So, I continue because, apparently, she needs further justification, “You’re sixteen, Maddy. He’s eighteen. It’s absolutely illegal.”
She waves a hand dismissively. “I’ll be seventeen in a few weeks, Prue.’
Okay, still illegal, but clearly someone isn’t getting the point I’m trying to make. I try a different approach. “You’ve literally been DMing him for two weeks. Have you even had an actual conversation with him? Like, in person?”
She pauses to think for a moment. “I said hi to him in line in the cafeteria the other day.”
I snort.Save the date, ladies and gentlemen.
“Anyway. All that’s irrelevant.” Madison shrugs.
Well, hardly irrelevant, but again, I say nothing.
“All that matters is that Ireallylike him.” She smiles longingly, twirling a length of blonde hair around her finger. “And Iknowhe likes me. It’s only a matter oftime before we hook up. Plus, it’s just sex. It’s not like it’s a big deal.”
Just sex? Not a big deal? We’resixteen. I haven’t even kissed a boy yet, let alone considered having sex with one. Sex is supposed to be special, and the first time should be with someone you love. I heave a sigh. I can’t help but feel as if I’m being left behind. Madison and all the other girls in our grade are way more advanced than me. They’re into makeup and clothes and boys, whereas I can’t be bothered with any of that stuff. I’m starting to think there might be something wrong with me.
Soon enough we arrive at a sprawling house with music flooding out of every open door and window, people milling about in the front yard, sipping out of red solo cups, passing around a blunt. Some girl and a guy I know from AP English are in the middle of what looks to be a heated argument. There’s even a guy wearing a bucket hat, a pair of shorts, and not a lot else, passed out precariously close to a prickly looking bush.
I tap a finger against my chin in mock consideration, casting Madison a curious glance. “Gee, do you think this is the place?”
She just laughs, rolling her eyes at me as she starts up the steep driveway. I grudgingly trail her to the front door, feeling more out of place than I’ve ever felt before.
Inside is far too crowded for my liking. An overplayed Drake song reverberates deafeningly throughout, bodies gyrating against each other, there’s even two girls openly making out with one guy in the corner of the front entryway. This kind of scene just isn’t for me, and I already want to leave. But, as if shecan read my mind, Madison grabs my hand and tugs me with her through the throng, down a long hallway and into a sprawling kitchen.
“Hey, you made it!”
Madison spins around, pulling me with her so quickly I almost lose my balance in these stupid shoes.
The one and only Ryan Conrad stands in front of us shirtless for some reason, grinning down at my friend with serious heart-eyes. I must admit, he is hot, if you like that All-American kind of thing. Sandy hair, blue eyes, sun kissed skin. A future frat boy through and through, I’m sure.
When Madison doesn’t say anything, I cast her a sideways glance to find her grinning like a moron. She tucks her hair behind her ear and giggles, and I’m suffering some serious second-hand embarrassment because she’s actually lost the ability to function like a normal person.
“I’ve been waiting for you to get here,” Ryan says, stepping closer, effectively blocking me out of the equation altogether.
Madison giggles again. I cringe.
Ryan takes one of Madison’s hands and I’m suddenly null and void. In fact, I can’t remember a time I’ve ever felt more redundant. I glare at my best friend’s back as the two of them skulk off before being swallowed up by the crowd.
What was that she said about not ditching me?
I puff air from my cheeks, looking around for what I’m not even sure. I could leave, I don’t want to go by myself. Reluctantly, I turn, furtively glancing at the somewhat familiar faces surrounding me, doing all Ican to avoid eye contact with every single one of them. I make my way back down the hallway to the entry, but again, I’m at a loss. To the right, is a den packed full of people I don’t care to associate with, girls dancing suggestively, boys cheering them on. To the left is a formal dining room where a game of beer pong is being played on a long table, surrounded by more people I don’t feel like being around. I glance at the stairs ahead, and I don’t stop to think twice before making a bee line for them. I know there’s probably some unwritten law about inviting yourself upstairs at a house party, but it’s my only option. And, I mean, it’s not like I’m going to steal anything.
