thirty

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CHAPTER THIRTY" YOU AND ME, THERE'S NOTHING LIKE THIS "

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CHAPTER THIRTY
" YOU AND ME, THERE'S NOTHING LIKE THIS "

DYLAN LAID ON HER STOMACH, STARING OUT NANCY'S bedroom window, her palm pressed against her chin. Nancy was explaining something in some textbook but unlike their usual study sessions, Dylan wasn't listening. She was staring out the window, thinking of Steve, slightly hungover.

There was a thud. Dylan glanced over her shoulder, Nancy had closed the textbook. When they locked eyes, Nancy lifted a brow.

"What did I just say?"

Dylan paused. "To be perfectly honest, I have no clue."

"That's what I thought," Nancy chuckled. "What's on your mind?"

Dylan frowned. She thought of Steve, angry and upset, in the darkened hallway. "Steve. He's mad at me because he doesn't believe me and I don't know how to convince him that he's wrong."

"And history repeats itself."

Nancy the Slut Wheeler flashed in her mind. But it wasn't weird, oddly enough, that the two girls had a shared experience, Dylan was actually relieved to have someone potentially give her good advice. If Barb were alive, the two girls would never have been friends—too busy fighting for the attention of Barb and Steve. But now that all the secrets were revealed and the dust settled, the two actually got along very well.

Nancy rolled over so both girls were laid down facing the window. "So what happened?"

"Billy and I went for a drive," Nancy's face scrunched, "don't give me that look! He wanted to talk. He was harassing me so I gave in. Steve thinks it was something else and Billy let him believe it."

"Of course he did," Nancy's judgment was evident on her face. "I don't know why you even dated him at all—not that I can say much, I dated Steve before he was reformed."

"Reformed, nice word choice," Dylan thought back to Steve, her best friend, popular, Nancy's sort-of-horrible boyfriend. He wasn't as much of a dick as he was before but he still liked to jump to conclusions. "Anyway, let's not judge my past. I'm trying my best to be a good girlfriend."

"The Dylan Holland is worried about being a good girlfriend?" Nancy mocked, throwing her head in laughter. "Look, if I know Steve he's probably going to throw a rock at your window in the middle of the night and pour his heart out with apologies. Especially for you."

Dylan sighed. She hoped he would have come by the night before and she had waited by the phone all afternoon. Nothing. But Nancy helped her remain hopeful. "I can't study any longer. I'm too tired worked up. What's open on Sunday evening?"

The bell over the door chimed. Jonathan walked into Midway Eatery, a soppy grin directed as his girlfriend. "We always find ourselves here, don't we?"

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