Not Like Other Girls: Chapters 30–34

“You’re quiet,” she says, raspy.

“I need to—” The vomit burns up my throat. I collapse to my knees, heaving.

I stole three beers as compensation.

Even if we’d never spoken before, I hated Nick on Maddie’s behalf like she hated Lee on mine.

Lee’s graduation party sucked, so I stole another lukewarm beer and met Nick at his car across the street—two neighbors catching up in the dark.

I’ve been doing so much better recently, turning in my homework on time, passing tests, but I’m unmotivated today.

I look toward the counter for a reprieve and gasp, “Tess!”

“He sent me all his research so we could ‘collaborate.’

“Undefeated. My editor in chief wanted me to profile him, so I started researching before our interview—and turns out, the man lied about everything. Faked a master’s from a university that doesn’t exist. Forged a teaching license. Never even played basketball!”

We still ran it, obviously. It blew up. The coach got fired immediately. I got this prestigious award for young journalists, and four internship offers before I’d even moved to New York. It basically got me into NYU,” she tacks on, like it’s nothing.

“Some additional context here is that the coach was my boyfriend’s dad.”

Its contents are sparse: milk and butter, soda cans and jars of jam.

Hudson asks, not trying to hide his disdain.

Miles smiles, all smug.

“Cody sent those photos because I confronted him. He retaliated against me.”

Beside the trophy case, black and silver balloons and streamers flank three blown-up senior portraits: Miles and April and Hudson.

“Hey,” he says. So blasé. Hey, as if we didn’t make out on my bed.

“You must know it. Everyone knows! Everyone knows that I’ve been fucking pining after you for years.”

The whispers slither into my ear: Not Hudson.

I blew out my hair and finagled my bangs to curtain my face.

Too fake, she adds, “I get the absolute privilege of writing the Price redemption arc.”

“Her dad is pissed about the News 9 interview, so as penance for Justin going rogue, our editor in chief is giving them the opportunity to ‘set the record straight.’

“Posters are this way. I know I’m biased, but hers is the best.”

“Yes, okay? You just caught me off guard. I’ve never had anyone profess their love for me before, or sound so aggravated by it.”

Look, I don’t want to talk about my sister. I want to hear about you. It’s been forever, right? Let’s catch up,” he says, and it sounds almost sincere. Innocuous, at least.