Page 21 of Faking Summer
"I don’t know, Mom," I said as I turned away from her judgmental gaze. Every step felt heavier than the last as I made my way to my room. I had to get ready and leave this house, escape the stifling air thick with expectations and disappointment.
Life had to get better than this, I thought as I turned on my vanity lights. I was Caroline Matthews—Blue Devils committee president, the best cheer and dance instructor in town. I commanded rooms, choreographed routines. And yet, here I was nothing more than a failure; my accomplishments dimmed by the unrelenting comparison of Charlotte.
"This won't define me," I murmured to my reflection, a silent vow that felt both fragile and fierce. There was a world beyond this, one where I wasn't just the woman without a date or one with a disappointing career, but a force to be reckoned with—a bad ass dressed in blonde waves and determination.
The neon sign of Gin & Jerry's buzzed in the dark, its glow guiding me forward. I shoved the door open and slipped inside, scanning the bar for the familiar faces I desperately needed tonight. There—in the back corner—were my friends. Relief flickered through me, but between them and me sat the last people I wanted to see. Reese and his teammates were posted up at the bar. I ducked my chin, pushing through the crowd as I hurried past them, prayingI’d go unnoticed. I just wanted to get to my friends and let this awful day morph into something remotely salvageable.
"Care!" Sam called as I approached, snatching up her purse from the empty seat next to her.
“By the way, don’t let me forget to tell you. My sister is going to be your newest bride,” I whispered to Sam, and her eyes widened. I knew my sister was probably going to take advantage of her and be extremely overbearring, but Sam would be more upset if she wasn't the one who got to be her wedding planner.
Piper was mid-story. “…So we went out on a first date," she said, as she applied more lipgloss, "and then when he got up to use the bathroom, I realized he had an ankle monitor on." A collective gasp rippled around our group, followed by a hush of anticipation as Piper went on. "And when he got back to the table, he said he forgot his wallet at home. Therefore, I have officially given up on dating."
Laughter erupted. My eyes drifted away from our table. They landed on the entrance just as Chandler Hartford sauntered into the bar. And I watched as her eyes scanned, then locked on a target. Reese, who was leaning against the bar.
"Have you guys heard about what's going on between them?" Kim asked, our entire group now watching the same show I was. My curiosity piqued as I watched Chandler's delicate fingers curl around the stem of a wine glass. Reese didn't turn, his attention still on Bailey, but the slight shift in his posture gave away that he was fully aware of how close she was.
"What's going on between them?" I asked, unsure if I even wanted to know—although I could never resist any gossip bait. It was my weakness.
Kim's dark eyes flickered with the thrill of another story, and she leaned in. "Boston and Reese are waiting for her to make a decision between them," she pulled out the lipgloss again. "They've left the ball in her court, and she's been stringing them both along."
"Th-that's just awful. How can she string along two brothers?" stuttered a voice from our cluster of friends.
"That family has enough problems, and she's just dividing them even more," Sam added.
Kim nodded, and her lips twisted into a frown. "It's just not fair," she agreed. "Those brothers are gorgeous. And every girl in Bayside has been trying to snatch up Reese since he and Blair broke up. I heard he actually wants to date Chandler, not even make her a 'Reesed and released' victim." Her tone slipped out of sadness and dipped more into envy.
Did everyone know about this Reese’d and Released thing? My gaze drifted back to Reese, to the casual way he leaned against the bar, how even though I couldn’t stand him, he did have one of those faces you could stare at for hours. Like those videos of handsome men on social media you can't help but keep watching on repeat, and it’s almost painful when you have to scroll away.
I wasn't sure why hearing all this upset me, but it did. It wasn't just that I was still nursing a bruise from the Boston situation. No, this felt like much more than that. She came to Bayside, effortlessly drawing everyone into her orbit. And they loved her for it. I've been here my whole life, and still—never good enough. Not for any of the guys here, not even for my own family.
"Can I get two tequila shots, please?" I flagged down the waitress. "Make them doubles." I needed them. Not just one—two. Pronto.
ten
Reese
Bailey’s phone buzzed against the bar top. He glanced down, tapped the screen, and whatever he saw made his lips twist into that grin—the cocky, shit-eating kind. He shot me a knowing look.
"Should I even ask?"
He leaned back in his seat. "I just got a for-my-eyes-only text from the baker girl of my dreams," he said, running a hand through his hair.
Bakergirl. It was the username of a girl he'd met on a dating app. They hadn’t met in person yet, but he was utterly captivated, snatched by the balls at just the idea of her.
"For your sake, I hope she’s exactly who you think she is and not, you know… some person named Earl or Bertha who wants to lure you into their sketchy stalker van," I said, under my breath.
“Don’t tempt me with a good time… but trust me, she’s definitely a hot college girl who bakes.”
"Right. Well, good luck with that." I chuckled, taking a slow sip of my drink, already mentally preparing for the inevitable “I got catfished”meltdown.
The moment Chandler Hartford came over with Willow trailing just a step behind, I felt the atmosphere shift. Bailey leaned against the bar, his eyes narrowing in playful foreboding as he murmured, "Uh oh, here's trouble."
Willow, always the whirlwind, who happened to be the coach's daughter, circled around to Bailey's other side with a mischievous grin and gave him an affectionate shove that nearly made him spill his drink.
Chandler drifted closer with an empty wine glass. Waiting for the bartender to take notice, she turned those hazel eyes toward me.
"Didn't get to talk to you much at the tournament," she said, softly. "But you killed it out there. Like always."
