His Jealousy Sent Me Straight to the Ivy League novel · Chapter 11 of 24

Chapter 11: Sleep, Dee

Delaney's POV

On Wednesday I asked Hallie to sleep over, and I told myself it was because it was the night before College Night.

That wasn't the reason.

I hadn't spoken to Eliot since the rain, and he hadn't tried to speak to me.

I needed to know, and I didn't know any other way to find out.

She came at eight with a sleeping bag, a bag of popcorn and her toothbrush in her coat pocket, the way she had since we were twelve.

My mom was on shift.

She had left a note on the fridge: Casserole is NOT a metaphor. Eat it. Love, the woman who birthed you.

Hallie laughed so hard she had to sit down on the kitchen floor.

I laughed with her, and it hurt.

We ate the casserole standing at the counter and watched the same terrible movie we had watched a dozen times, the one with the talking dog and the wedding.

She knew every line.

I knew every line too, and I said none of them.

Halfway through, she paused it.

"You're quiet," she said.

"I'm tired."

"You're scared."

"A little."

"Of Tate?"

"Of the gym," I said. "Three hundred people."

She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them.

"You could skip it," she said. "Nobody would blame you."

"I'd blame me."

"I know you would." She smiled sadly. "That's what I love about you. You can't let anything go."

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