The Other Hailey

27| a thing called romantic feelings

Sleepovers— I never had them.

For years, I was as invisible as air and as quiet as a heart that beats no more. I may have even been a ghost. I blended in with the crowd; never once noticed. I was practically an NPC for the most of my life. So, I didn't get invited to events as much as the other kids did in my grade. I never really had a best friend, so I never had a sleepover.

But tonight, I'll be getting my very first sleepover. And it isn't with a girl, but with a boy.

A boy with the ability to make my cheeks warm.

"You do that a lot?"

I snap back to reality. "What?"

"Zone out?"

I'm not sure what to say. So I stand and stare at the door of his home.

Nodding at my silence, he chuckles. "You're the one who told me not to worry about Penelope, but look at you worrying."

"I wasn't thinking about Penelope Cruz," I say. "And really, you shouldn't also. She seems to hang more with Cassie these days, and if I can reach Cassie, we can make sure Penelope doesn't say anything."

I hope it's as easy as I make it sound. Penelope hates me already, ever since Adam's game.

"Okay." He nods. "If not Penelope, then what were you thinking about?"

I watch the knowing smile on his face grow wider and wider by the second. "You're unserious."

"So, you admit. You were thinking we'd do something different?"

My face reddens.

One minute, he makes my heart flutter, the next, he makes me want to yeet myself off a bridge.

"It's cold out here. Please?" I shut the conversation, pointing at the door.

He cocks an eyebrow at me. He then fishes for the key underneath the doormat. He quickly inserts it and opens his home to me.

My pulse rises the moment the bright lights from inside the house reach my eyes. I can't make out the rest of his house from the outside, but I see shoes lined up at the door, and then a mirror along the doorway. It feels different from the other houses I've been to. The unfamiliarity causes a wave of panic to wash over me.

"Aren't you coming in?"

I blink several times, trying to grasp the situation at hand. I realize Dean has already stepped into his home with his shoes off and is holding the door open for me. For a split second, the expression on his face matches mine— he's nervous. But that's before he wipes it off, and then gives me the most confident smile in the world.

"Oh, uh, sorry." I clear my throat. "Just got a little nervous."

"Nervous, why?" He chuckles softly. "This isn't the first time you're coming into my home." He tilts his head.

I freeze.

Shit. At this point, I should just scream "i'm not veronica gates, bitches!"