The Other Guys

Prologue

Prelude of sorts:

I keep dating Brady, even though I know he’s in love with another girl.

What does that say about me, right?

Some might think it’s masochistic of me to keep watering a dying garden with its wilting flowers and all, but I find it proactive. As long as I still harbor the tiniest sliver of hope that one day he’ll wake up to find himself in love with me, I won’t be admitting defeat. And, as we all know, hope’s not easy to kill, especially when you’re holding onto it, like a drowning man would grasp at straws and fight for air, like I’m fighting for his love. Even if it seems pointless sometimes.

I’m still holding out hope that someday he’ll learn to see me in the way I want him to.

And, all things considered, Brady is crazy about me, he just doesn’t love me, per se. Not that anyone can tell. As far as everybody is concerned, we’re our high school’s power couple, the inseparable duo that’s so in love nothing and no one come in between us.

No one, except Emily Walsh, that is.

Clenching my jaw, I snap my cell shut and put in it my bra, all the while resisting the urge to smash it against the wall because it’s not my cell’s fault my boyfriend’s an idiot.

“Sydney, are you okay?” CeCe timidly queries, half-afraid I’m going to chop her head off for asking and half-worried that something horrible has happened as she taps me lightly on the shoulder. I only turn back around when I’m sure I have my poker face on because I don’t want them questioning the sudden wetness that has appeared in my eyes. The girls are all looking at me curiously and I can clearly see the questioning mark in their probing gazes as they size me up, trying to read me, but I keep my face expressionless.

“Just perfect,” I say loud and clear, faking a smile as I stand before them with my hands on my hips and while some of them sigh in relief, I can literally feel disappointment coming off the other girls who want nothing more than drama. “Now,” I start, making sure to keep my head up high and my voice steady and carefree, like I wasn’t a second away from turning on the waterworks not too long ago, “what about these drinks you promised me?”