She’d done a poor job of concealing the zit on her chin, but the rest of her face was light brown, flawless, and bright with welcome. Maisey checked her mascara in the rear-view mirror. We were a mere fifteen-minute drive from the party, from making my move on Blake, and I had no idea what I was going to say. Maisey’s beat-up Buick idled quietly on the narrow road in front of our friend Becca’s house. Making my move on my crush wouldn’t solve everything-it probably wouldn’t solve anything-but thinking about Blake and his caramel brown eyes and how he shoved his hands in his pockets when he thought hard about something would make me forget. I’d be able to forget how my parents spent hours screaming at one another about every minute detail of their divorce agreement. Tonight I would just be a high school girl crushing hard on a guy. I needed the distraction, and Blake Haltom was going to be it. Tonight was the night to get a boyfriend.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |