Page 143 of Faking It With the Small-Town Bad Boy

practice, not—”

“You think you can just make fun of me on the most stressful day of

my life?” she snarls, not listening to reason at all. “I’m so glad I broke

up with you, Percy! You have no idea how to handle a woman’s

feelings, and I can’t even believe I dated you for more than five

minutes!”

He winces back slightly, his friends aiming to pull him away from the

seething lion, drooling and hungry for guitar-player flesh, but he

persists. “I think you’re crazy,” he bites back in retaliation. “We

weren’t even thinking about you, Farrah, let alone laughing at you!

But you just have to make everything about yourself. If the world

didn’t revolve around you, we’d all just fall right off the fucking face

of the planet, right?”

The silence is stunning in both crowds, with no one moving or

speaking for what feels like a year.

Farrah scoffs a sarcastic laugh, turning where she stands and flicking

her hair over her shoulder. I’m happy he put her in her place, but she

doesn’t agree to that, shifting right back around with her hand

outstretched and flying through the air, landing a sure and swift hit

right against his cheek.

The sound of that slap echoes through the town square, and even

Mike pokes his head out of the storefront, looking for the culprit. I

find my body tense, my hands folded over my mouth to keep from

screaming in shock. Percy just stands there for a long minute, his

neck still turned in the aftermath of the hit.

“You bitch,” one of his friends bites, getting between them.

They pull at Percy to leave, like they need to separate him from

getting to her, but he’s made no move to signal he’ll strike her in

return. My stomach is in an empty knot, Farrah’s friends pawing at

her until she stomps away in her little stick heels.

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