Senior Week Crush by Maggie Dallen

Author:Maggie Dallen [Dallen, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-12-18T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

I jinxed myself, clearly.

The moment we arrived at the shore, embarrassing me in front of Dylan seemed to be Jack’s sole mission in life. It wasn’t like he was being mean, per se. In fact, if anything, he seemed to think it was his job to singlehandedly set the two of us up. Which would have been fine, maybe… I guess… If he wasn’t so freakin’ obvious.

My mom wasn’t even this obvious when she’d tried to make friends for me last summer on vacation. Did you hear that, Layla? Annie here likes movies too!

Really, Mom? How shocking. We must be twins separated at birth.

I would have said it was hard to beat my mom’s sledgehammer methods of playing matchmaker, but then again I’d never seen Jack in action before.

When we arrived in the late afternoon, Dylan was at the house and had greeted us with that outrageous exuberance that made him so darn likeable. Seriously, I challenge people not to like Dylan. It’s almost impossible. He was like a puppy… a sexy, charming puppy who was destined to be the father of my children.

Maybe that metaphor wasn’t exactly right.

His tour was haphazard as he led the way back to a giant kitchen with an island, dining table, and counters that were already covered in dirty cups and dishes even though he and the others had only arrived the night before.

The others, I found out once we reached the kitchen, included Herman but also five other guys from our class—all way more popular than me, and none who I was particularly friendly with. I mean, I’d been in their class since kindergarten so we were all technically acquainted, just not well.

I was missing Amy big time by the time Dylan replenished his glass with a big splash of clear liquor and soda. It seemed he and the others were getting a head start on the “epic party” that he’d planned for that night.

Epic was the adjective of choice when it came to parties, at least for Dylan. I kind of wondered what qualified any party as epic. Did booze have to be involved? Or just no parents? Or did it just have to be any party that Dylan was attending?

Jack was still at my side and I had the urge to turn to him and ask. Something told me it would make him laugh. But I didn’t have the chance.

“Laynie?” Dylan asked, holding out a cup filled with God-knows-what. I shook my head. “No thanks.”

“Layla doesn’t drink,” Jack offered up.

I turned to stare. How did he know that? I mean, it was true, I’d tried drinking and it wasn’t for me. I didn’t like losing control and I really didn’t like the way I’d felt afterward. But somehow Jack saying it made me feel stupid. Childish, even.

Dylan shrugged and handed the cup to Jack instead, who took it without looking at me. Could he feel my glare? Probably. I was beginning to think Jack had some kind of psychic power. He saw too much and had no problems commenting on it.

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