Little waves of anger ripple through me. This shit. Every time. Not once have I stopped Cooper from hanging out with Heidi or asked him not to invite her somewhere, because I can at least tolerate her for his sake. Why she’s so committed to not giving me the same courtesy, I don’t understand. Instead, it’s always dirty looks and passive-aggressive bullshit. And, apparently, trash-talking behind my back.
“I still don’t know how she bought Cooper acting like he never met that guy.” Heidi laughs again, smug now. “I mean, wake up and smell the conspiracy, right?”
Wait, what?
Is she talking about Preston?
“I’d feel sorry for her if she wasn’t so gullible.”
Screw Heidi. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Still, I’d rather know what other bile she’s been spewing behind my back, so I hug the shadows as I creep up the steps, keeping bodies between myself and Heidi, hiding among the other people lingering on the stairs talking.
“Okay, but it’s been long enough,” another girl says. “He must be into her, don’t you think?”
“What does it matter?” Heidi offers that dismissive shrug she does. “Eventually she’s got to figure out he’s been lying to her from the start. That he only got with her as a means for revenge.”
“Leave them alone,” Alana says. “You promised to let it go.”
I stop dead. Did I hear her right? Because that sounded suspiciously like confirmation.
What else could it mean?
“What?” There’s a coy note in Heidi’s tone.
I’m barely three feet away now. So close I’m shaking.
“I didn’t say I was going to tell her. Not on purpose, anyway.”
My heart thumps erratically against my ribs. Alana is standing right there, mouth shut. Not disputing Heidi’s version of events.
Which means, if I’ve read it right, Cooper has been lying to me since the moment we met.
Worse, he lied when I confronted him directly. He lied to my face. And he made all his friends—our friends, I thought—go along with the lies. Evan. Steph. Alana.
I feel small, like I could fall right through the space between the deck boards. Utterly humiliated. Who else knew about it? Have they all been laughing at me behind my back this entire time? Poor, dumb clone.
“Go on, then,” I say, charging forward to confront the group. “Don’t wait for word to get around, for something to slip—why don’t you tell me to my face, Heidi?”
Alana has the decency to look contrite. Heidi, however, doesn’t even pretend to hide her smirk.
Seriously, this girl makes me want to boob-punch her. I’ve tried with her. I really have. Make conversation. Be civil. Give her time. But no matter how much or how little I give, she’s flatly refused to budge from her total contempt. Now I understand why—she and I weren’t in an uneasy truce, but a cold war to which I was oblivious. That was my mistake.
“I get it, you hate my guts,” I say testily. “Find a new hobby.”
She narrows her eyes.
I dismiss her from my gaze, turning to Alana instead. “Is it true? This was some sort of revenge plan against my ex? Cooper lied?”
Saying it out loud makes me queasy. All the alcohol I consumed tonight churns dangerously in my belly as I replay the events of the last six months. My memory flips through a dozen early conversations with Cooper, wondering what obvious clues I ignored. How many times was the answer right in front of me, but I was too enamored of his fathomless eyes and crooked smile?
Ever enigmatic, Alana reveals no emotion. Only hesitation. I thought we’d grown close, gotten past the rough patches to actually become friends. Yet here she is, silent, her expression shuttered, while Heidi makes me the butt of her jokes. Guess I really am dumb. They all had me fooled.
“Alana,” I press, almost cringing at the helplessness I hear in my voice.
After an interminably long pause, her aloof expression slips, just enough for me to glimpse a flicker of regret.
“Yes,” she admits. “It’s true. Cooper lied.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
COOPER
I catch a glimpse of Mac through the flames of the bonfire, a glowing fleeting glimpse, before a wave of beer smacks me in the face.
“Asshole.”
Confusion jolts through me. Staggering backward from the firepit, I wipe my eyes with sandy fingers. I blink a few times, using my forearm to mop beer off my face. I blink again, and Mac is directly in front of me, holding an empty red cup in her hand. As our friends all stand there staring at us, I struggle to understand what the hell is happening.