“
I thought you didn’t want to be a wallflower,” he says.
And that’s it. I explode into a million embarrassed pieces. I bury myself underneath the vineyard to be remembered forever, I—
“I like your list,” he says, breaking me out of my thoughts of complete and utter mortification.
“Don’t—don’t you dare tell anyone about it!”
He frowns as if I’ve said something stupid.
No way. Is it too late? Has he posted an Instagram Story about my list, laughing about the weird things his once-childhood best friend does?
Then he says, “Why would I do that?”
As if it’s simple. As if he hasn’t spent the last five years ignoring my existence. As if he has some sort of loyalty to me, though I know he never did. We were friends once upon a time, like a twisted fairy tale, until it was more convenient to drop me and focus on CharmWorks instead. To be liked and popular, to become somebody who people remember at school, to no longer be invisible.
”
”