Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 14285 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 71(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 48(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14285 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 71(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 48(@300wpm)
As teens, she would bring home guys she knew I liked, and so maybe part of me knew she would try to pull off something like this.
Two weeks ago, she casually dropped a bomb on me. She was dating my ex, Alex. We were together for almost a year, but he dumped me in front of our friends because, as he said, I was too stiff and boring for him.
“We’re just not on the same wavelength,” was what he said.
And he ends up with Corinne who’s his definition of fun.
Honestly, I have no idea why Corinne hates me. We look the same way. She has everything I do and more. She’s more popular than me and has more friends than me. My social calendar has nothing on her.
The fake date idea came to me when I realized Corinne timed it perfectly for Mimi's 80th birthday. My grandmother loved throwing lavish parties, and everyone wanted to score invites. I knew without a doubt that I would be the laughingstock if I showed up alone or didn’t show up at all. Corinne would make sure of it.
Baron standing in was the last thing I expected, though.
See, there was a reason he was popular in school. Baron was hot. Still is, if I’m being honest. More than that, he’s witty and funny, and he always has a response to anything. In class, he had a ready answer for when teachers called him out, and ten times out of ten, the answer was hilarious but also made sense.
So what is this thing taking root in me? I’ve only ever seen him as an asshole. Nothing more, nothing less.
It makes me sick. Am I some kind of masochist? And why do I feel excitement thrumming in my veins at the thought of bringing him as my plus one? Whatever it is, I shove that sensation down deep.
Whenever Corinne felt like cutting them, all of my ex-boyfriends would cower in one corner and leave the first chance they got. They didn’t want to get involved in my family drama.
But…
Baron won’t be like that. He’s not going to let Corinne throw him around like she does others. Besides, he loves drama. He lives off it. And if they do face each other? It’s one bully against another. Here’s just hoping they won’t gang up on me.
I’m still not fully convinced Baron and I should push through with the plan until Corinne sends me a photo of her and Alex kissing on the beach. As if that’s not enough, she follows it up with a short clip of them sucking each other’s tongue.
Weirdly, it doesn’t affect me the way I thought it would. It irks me that she’s found a way to piss me off, but that’s the end of it. No jealousy and definitely no wishing it was me.
Been there, done that, didn’t like it.
My phone pings with a text message, and I brace myself for another disgusting and unwelcome insight into my sister and my ex’s very public relationship. Surprisingly, it’s not her.
Baron: What are you wearing on Sunday?
I send him a photo of my gown. The theme for this year is masquerade. Last year, it was The Great Gatsby. What can I say? Mimi never does things half-baked.
Baron: : (
Me: Why the sad face? Does it not live up to your expectations, your highness?
Baron: I want a photo of you IN it
Me: Fuck off, Baron. Not showing you shit.
Baron: What if I beg? I’m not above begging. Please x 1000
Me: Don’t make me regret taking you as my date.
He doesn’t respond anymore. Maybe he’s out with his girls or friends. Whatever. It’s none of my business.
Andrea has accompanied me to the atelier for last-minute adjustments. The party is in four days, and while I don’t plan on standing out, I do want to look good. For myself and not for anyone else.
I’ve just changed back into my floral midi dress and black pumps when Andrea stares at me funny. She’s sitting on the loveseat in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror and platform.
“What?” I ask, sitting beside her and staring at myself in the mirror.
“I want to say something you’re probably not going to like.”
Andrea leans forward and fixes her newly-cut blonde bob. She’s a lot shorter than me at 5’2, but we’re both curvy, so we like to shop together, often buying the same clothes in the same color.
“Out with it, Ands.”
She twists at the waist to face me and takes my hands in hers. “I love you. Please don’t hate me, but I think Baron is okay.”
“You did not just say that. Don’t you remember all the pranks he pulled when we were young?”
Andrea chews on her lip. “Most of them were harmless pranks, though. You didn’t go home crying because of what he did.” She pauses and pins me with an intense gaze. “Unlike your sister.”