Sophie: Nina’s going to kill me. I feel like I can’t talk to her right now. She’s too pissed off.
Poppy: She just needs time. Your sister loves you.
Sophie: I know. I’m going to give her a minute to cool off.
Poppy: Is your writing thing fixed yet?
Sophie: Oh, you mean my failing career? No, I still have writer’s block ??
Poppy: I keep telling you to sage the house…
Poppy: whispers :::sage the block away:::
Sophie: Are the sage growers paying you for this product placement?
Poppy: it’s called being a visionary, look it up
SOPHIE’S TIKTOK
High-School Sweetheart Recap
Weeks until book is due: 4 （and a few days）
“You might notice that I’m wearing a face mask.” Sophie pointed to the green mask covering her entire face. She wore a blush-pink robe and tightened the wrap around her waist. “I’m needing a bit of self-care today, because after the last few days, I feel like I’m about to truly explode.”
“My ex-boyfriend from high school, as it turns out, is an actual piece of trash and sold something I told him in confidence to the tabloids. So now my sister—” Sophie stopped herself. “No, I’m not going to talk about her any more than I already have. But let’s just say, my life is a mess. Messier than usual.
“And to top it all off, I’m starting to realize that I might have some real issues. Like, fear of rejection and low self-esteem… It’s just a lot. Like, I have all of this data coming in from meeting up with my exes, and now I have to actually figure out what it all means. But I’m afraid that what it means is that I probably need a lot of expensive therapy, with money I don’t have.”
Sophie sat on the lip of her tub and sighed. She tapped a finger against her now-dry mask and continued, “So, anyways, yeah. I’m just taking this afternoon to decompress and try to mask-away all the pain because I’ll be meeting up with my next ex soon. Drop some self-care tips in the comments.”
COMMENTS
@bookishatwell I read friends-to-lovers for self-care. Out loud. To my cat. Don’t judge me.
@bookrecsbymel Have you ever sniffed a book for self-care? Because that shit WORKS.
@tokcrafty2me be kind to yourself, change is hard
16
DASH
Dash had made the clay too wet, again. It slipped through his fingers and slumped in a heap on the wheel, exhausted from being overworked. His phone was propped against the opposite wall to capture a time-lapse video for a TikTok post—all standard routine when he had a crafting day. But he wasn’t focused on any of those things, really.
He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since his weekend away with Sophie, and his brain was short-circuiting from the two cups of coffee with extra sugar he’d had to compensate.
He had to be borderline delirious. How else to explain that Sophie’s perverse little canine tooth kept flashing through his thoughts? Or how the peach-colored freckles that dotted her shoulders seemed like they’d make an interesting pattern for his mug? And then there was the way she’d said his name—Dash—all breathy. Why could he still hear her saying it, even now? He hadn’t seen her in a few days, but she was haunting his thoughts.
He was clearly on edge from the change in his routine and the new surge of feelings, or something. And now he was attempting to craft those feelings away. Even though he certainly didn’t need another coffee mug—he had a gorgeous set he’d made earlier that year—he’d taken out the clay and added water, because that’s what had come to him.
But before he could plan out the next step, his phone pinged. He stopped the video recording and saw a message.
@craftycindy getting your hands dirty?
Normally Dash would respond back with something flirty or quippy. But now, seeing her name didn’t feel right. The idea of engaging with her on any kind of flirtatious level made him uneasy. He wasn’t dating Sophie—he knew that—but even flirting with someone else didn’t sit well.
@tokcrafty2me making a new mug set, actually ??
He kept the text simple, factual, no hidden innuendos. Before he could go back to filming, another message came through.
@craftycindy when are you going to show me your mug, tho?
Dash cracked his neck, a little annoyed that she was trying to coax more out of him. She had occasionally suggested Dash show his face, but he never had. He knew what she looked like from her videos, so it seemed a little unfair in some respects, but remaining anonymous was important to him.
@craftycindy I won’t reveal your identity, Batman.
She wasn’t going to let this go. And maybe it was wrong, but Dash thought there might be a way to shut the whole flirtatious thing down quickly, so he replied.
@tokcrafty2me lol, my girlfriend is the only one who sees my mug
@craftycindy Girlfriend? Since when?
@tokcrafty2me It’s pretty new
@craftycindy Does she know about the drinking, Dash?
He nearly dropped the phone. What had she just said? Dash reread the message, certain that the lack of sleep was causing him to stress-hallucinate. But no, she had said his name. How did she know who he was? Had he accidentally revealed his first name somehow? His heart raced as he tried to determine how to respond, or if he should respond.
@tokcrafty2me Dash? You have me confused with someone else.
@craftycindy We’re meant to be together, Dash Montrose. Will she love you like I can?
Dash swallowed down a lump of pure terror. He was no stranger to stalkers. His family had dealt with their fair share throughout the years—one had even broken into their house looking for his dad when Dash was a kid. If this woman somehow knew his full name, did she also know where he lived?
Calling the cops absolutely crossed his mind. But then he’d have to reveal his TikTok account to them and turn over the messages where he confessed to being an alcoholic, and he wasn’t convinced they’d keep any of those facts a secret. He’d been in Hollywood long enough to know that everyone could be bought, for a price.
So instead, he took off his apron, grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone, and made for the door. He couldn’t be alone in his house, not while knowing that Cindy had figured out who he was. He needed to talk, but there was really only one person for that.
“Hey, buddy, you know I don’t like to do this, but I’m going to have to cut you off.”
Chris’s hand clapped on Dash’s back. When Dash glanced up, he was met with furrowed brows and plenty of concern, which made him clutch the plastic bag closer to his chest.
“I haven’t even gone to the chocolate section yet.” They were in Gimme Some Sugar, a beautifully curated candy store in West Hollywood that had just opened next to Lisa Vanderpump’s bar, Sur. Which also meant that, even though it was the middle of the day, they could hear （and feel） the blast of frenetic pop music from the iconic bar next door. Dash was surprised that he didn’t have a headache from the bright fluorescent glow of the overhead lights, but maybe the black-and-white candy-striped overhang, or the metallic bins that lined the shop like sugary presents, had all conspired to keep his brain focused on the promise of candy.
“Your bag is completely full.” Chris bounced slightly to rock Luna in the carrier. “And I don’t think Luna is going to sleep through another nineties pop anthem. They’re too catchy.”