1642734778_punk-57-pdf

He stares at me for a moment and then he lets out a snort, visibly
relaxing. Lyla laughs to herself, and I let out a breath.
“Did you get your dress?” he asks.
But Lyla nudges me, answering him, “We’re going shopping this
weekend.”
“Good.” He comes in and takes my hips, pressing himself to me.
I don’t want him to kiss me, so I quickly turn my head, but his lips
brush my forehead anyway.
I look up and see Masen.
He has his back to me, talking to J.D., but his head is turned, watching
me over his shoulder. His eyes flash to Trey and then to me again,
narrowing. My breathing hitches. Did he just get here? Or has he been
around and I just missed him?
“I’ll see you at the drive-in tonight.” Trey’s thumb grazes my stomach,
and then he gives me one last look before he leaves.
I feel crowded. Trey is demanding, Lyla’s in my business, and Masen
is…everywhere. I feel his presence in the parking lot now, off to the right,
like the sun burning on that side of my body.
“What’s the matter with you?” Lyla scolds. “If you don’t start being
nicer, he’ll find someone who will.”
I shoot my eyes over to her, feeling them burn. “Nice, like you?” I ask.
“Doesn’t look like being nice did you any good.” And I gesture over to J.D.
who’s laughing with Masen.
Her boyfriend has barely spoken to her in days, probably because he
knows what was written on the lawn last Friday was true—we all do—no
matter how much Lyla denies it.
But then I do a double-take, it finally registering that J.D. is talking to
Masen. When did they start being buddies?