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“It’s easy to pretend you’re not hurt or sad or upset or anxious. I’d throw all my emotions into creating Cami Simpson, the cool girl, the party girl, the girl who everyone wants to be so I wouldn’t acknowledge how I was feeling.” “And how are you feeling?” “Jesus, this is worse than therapy.”
“I’ve decided I don’t like Maddie.” She pursed her lips and got out her purple pen. I waited, tense as hell, wanting her to continue. But she didn’t. “Why?” “Because she hurt you.” She made an incredulous face, her eyebrows lifting. Then, she twisted her lips into a smile. “Duh.”
“What was that?” “My mouth.” I did it again, and for real, his body shivered. “I wanted to taste you.” “Cami,” he said, his voice strained. “No, please.”
“I can do it,” she said. “Of course you can. But you’re drunk, and I’m here.” “You are here.” She stared up at me, and a flash of that raw emotion came out again. It didn’t last long. She covered her face with her hands. “My face! Don’t look!”
You’re being honest. I prefer that, always.” He ran his fingers over my jawline and pressed his lips softly against my mouth. “You being yourself, unafraid or worried. This is my favorite Cami. Like I get a special part of you that no one else does.”
“I don’t care if we win or lose, really. Ever since Mona got in a legit fight with another player, we’ve eased back some.” “Mona got in a fight? Shut up.” “For real. Punched the dude in the face over a baseball answer.” Naomi’s eyes got all wide, and Cami slapped the table with her palm and laughed. “Fucking hilarious.” “Best part is, they’re kinda dating now. It’s wild.”
“I’m so sorry,” Freddie said, whispering to me as his face paled. “We don’t have to go. I didn’t even ask you.” “No, it’s okay.” I smiled up at him, wanting to kiss the frown off his face. “I don’t mind. Hanging out with you is perfect.”
“With all the respect in the world to you, you need to let go of Maddie’s words. You’ve let them live too long in your beautiful mind. Stop thinking you’re not enough for anyone and be yourself.” I blinked, absolutely silent.
“We’re two of those weirdly shaped puzzle pieces that don’t fit the standard size or angle. You know what I’m talking about? The ones with the sharp triangle type shape?” “I’ve never done a puzzle in my life, Freddie.” My face flushed. “Right, well, you get the idea.
“It smells like Satan farted into an old pair of socks.” “Way too specific of a smell.”

