Chapter 5
A bitter laugh echoed in my mind.
Tanner probably assumed his little “reminders” would send me scrambling to check my application. He expected me to discover his switch and immediately change mine to Georgia Tech like some lovesick puppy.
But he was too proud–or too cowardly–to just come clean.
Why would he? Actually telling me he’d changed his application would mean explaining himself to his “needy” childhood friend.
God, what a burden that would be.
Good thing I’d already made my choice. No more following in his shadow.
I glanced over at Tanner, completely absorbed in helping Harper with her application, and grabbed Joy’s arm.
“Let’s get out of here.”
I was calling an Uber when Joy, reading my mood like an open book, dragged me to her friend’s birthday party
instead.
“You need a distraction,” she insisted, and honestly, she wasn’t wrong.
After dinner, the group hauled us to some trendy new bar downtown.
Because tonight couldn’t get any worse.
rew had claimed the same venue.
overlapping friend groups, we inevitably got merged into one massive private room.
Tanner’s face went weird when he spotted me, but he kept his mouth shut. No acknowledgment, no eye contact.
Fine by me. I could play the invisible game too.
On my way to the bathroom, I caught fragments of conversation from around the corner–Tanner’s voice mixing with someone else’s.
‘Dude, just tell her straight up. She’s gonna be stuck at MIT alone while you’re off playing hero in Atlanta.”
Tanner’s response made my blood run cold: “Relax, I dropped like a million hints today.” “She’s probably already switched her application. The attitude is just because I didn’t run it by her first.”
My hands clenched into fists.
16:13
Bye Bye Lovesick Puppy: No Longer Chasing Your Glow, I Became My Own Sun
“Come on, babe. Drop the attitude–I can’t even figure out what crawled up your ass today.”
The casual endearment hit like a slap. Babe. Like nothing had changed.
“Oh, and you did double–check your application, right?”
My jaw locked. Every cell in my body screamed to unleash eighteen years of frustration, but I kept my mouth shut and my eyes on the floor.
The silence stretched between us like a loaded gun.
Just as he opened his mouth again, Harper’s voice sliced through the tension:
“Tanner! Connor’s doing a round of shots and–oh my god, sorry! Am I interrupting something?”
I swear that girl had a GPS tracker on him.
Every. Single. Time.
But I was done with this soap opera. While Tanner’s attention shifted, I ducked under his arm and bolted.
Harper’s manicured fingers locked around my wrist before I could escape.
16.13
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