“Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?” He was shocked to hear his breathing sounded so labored.

“For giving me the afternoon off. For making that cake. For helping with Mya when I botched everything. It’s a lot easier with you here.” She blushed. “A couple days ago, I would have never thought I’d say that.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Yeah, you didn’t seem too thrilled to see me.”

“No, I was…okay.” She laughed. “I wasn’t. To be honest, I was still thinking about my brother’s wedding. I’d never understood why you’d left me so abruptly back then.”

Warning bells sounded in the back of his mind at the mention of her brother. His best friend. It felt like a broken record was playing on repeat in his brain. And that record was titled Off-Limits, Off-Limits, Off-Limits.

Carly must have picked up on his thoughts. She took a small step back. “I know, you don’t want to kiss me. You don’t see me that way.”

He took her in from her swollen lips to the sexy business suit she still wore, to all of that amazing hair. Her eyes were practically twinkling, lighting up her fair, flawless skin. Did she have any idea how gorgeous she was? How appealing she was?

He shook his head. “That’s the problem, Carly,” he began, his voice coming out in gruff spurts. “I do see you like that. I’ve been fighting it since I got here.” He ran a hand through his short hair. “Hell, probably since Chris and Gretchen said I do.”

Her mouth fell open.

“I tell myself over and over that it’s wrong to think about you the way I do.”

A small smile played over her lips. “How do you think about me?”
He swallowed hard. “In a way that would definitely make your brother sucker-punch me in the face.”

  

  

  

“Who are you waiting for?” Knife Kid asks.

“That obvious, huh?”

“Jack, then. Screaming at him wasn’t enough?”

“He was the one who put the pictures of me all over school. Hell no, screaming isn’t enough.”

Knife Kid nods. “I saw the pictures. I had fun slashing them with my protractor. Nobody should be made fun of like that, I think.”

I don’t know whether to smile at how sweet he sounds or become extremely concerned at how creepy he sounds. I settle for a little of both just as Jack comes in. He walks right by and settles in his desk behind me. I turn and watch him take off his backpack.

“Hi.” I wave.

It takes him a moment to recognize me. Or a million. He focuses his gaze on me, then looks boredly to the window. He puts his chin in his hand, studies a pigeon in a tree with utmost intensity, and then all at once his eyes go wide. He swivels his head slowly back to me.

“You,” he murmurs.

“Me!” I chirp.

“What the hell are you doing in that?” he asks, eyes sweeping down to my chest, my legs, and up again.

“Damage control.” I smile. “Do you like it?”

“I’ve seen pigs dressed better.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, considering you see one in the mirror every morning.”

Sara Wolf is a twenty-something author who adores baking, screaming at her cats, and screaming at herself while she types hilarious things. When she was a kid, she was too busy eating dirt to write her first terrible book. Twenty years later, she picked up a keyboard and started mashing her fists on it and created the monster known as the Lovely Vicious series. She lives in San Diego with two cats, a crippling-yet-refreshing sense of self-doubt, and not enough fruit tarts ever.

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Logan says, “And we haven’t seen you at LARP, either. Planning on playing, like, ever again?”

“I just don’t have the time. It’s painful to talk about, dude. I hate it.” I’m not kidding, either. I miss the smell of duct tape and face paint, and the smell of fear that always accompanied my arrival.

“There’s a game tonight,” Logan says pitifully. And there’s another twist to the gut. I haven’t hung out with him in ages.

“I can’t. There’s this stupid fund-raiser thing I have to go to. Taxidermy Todd insists.” I shrug.

Logan punches me in the shoulder. “Come on, man. When was the last time you did anything for yourself? You have to have a little fun sometimes. YOLO.”

To be honest, I can’t remember the last time I went to a movie or played video games until dawn. I’m always on a schedule. Chatting with effyeahFinityGirl is something I have to do on the sly by hiding under the covers with my phone, or by waiting until my parents go to sleep. Would it really be so horrible to miss one little fund-raiser?

I take a moment before I answer, trying to remember the last time I got in big trouble. Finally, I decide I’m due for a little mischief. “Well, you know what they say, ‘Only the brave catch the worm.’ Fine. I’ll be there. But on one condition.”

I hear a sigh of frustration from Zelda, who’s been reading this whole time, and I cut my eyes at the back of her head. “What?”

“I can’t even begin to explain what’s wrong with what you just said, because it was such an amalgamation of stupidity.”

I open my mouth to deliver a scathing retort, but Logan speaks up, trying to defuse the tension. “What’s the condition?”

I decide to let Zelda’s comment roll off my back. Rise above, Garrett. I turn back to Logan. “You shall never say ‘YOLO’ again. Like, ever. Ever, ever, ever.