Henry didn’t have classes with Reid and Madeline. He couldn’t see what was happening to her—how she cancelled plans with me every week to spend more time with Reid. Them walking in and out of the band room hand in hand became the worst part of my day. Every class, I caught Reid’s eyes on me. As if he was waiting for a reaction. It felt like validation. This wasn’t all in my head.

Henry didn’t understand, but he could ruin my plan.

So I pretended I understood. “Okay.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Okay?”

Shifting to my knees, I crawled toward the winding slide that was the tree house’s best exit.

“You’re right. Madi needs to come to her own conclusion about Reid.”

The words were not even a lie, but I propelled myself down the slide before Henry could see the omission written all over my face.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Reid and I are color-coordinated and I hate everything.

I’m sitting in one of the structured metal chairs in the waiting area of the train station, earbuds blasting Taylor Swift because I just cannot. I look up after liking Fitz’s latest If the Shoe Fitz post on Instagram and Reid is walking toward me, returning from the vending machines with two bags of pretzels. When he sits next to me I remove my earbuds because the car ride here might have been a total disaster, but it wasn’t exactly Reid’s fault.

Reid hands me one of the pretzel bags. “That was the worst thirty minutes of my life. I don’t even think I’m exaggerating.”

“Dad is the most Extra,” I say.

“He’s never going to let this go, is he?”

The automated train approaching announcement for the purple line plays through the speakers, indicating that Reid and I should move to the platform. I stand, tossing my city purse—a small, black crossbody—over my shoulder, and sigh. “Definitely not.”

I regretted asking Dad to drive us to the train station the moment Reid got in the back seat. Reid would have looked okay, I guess, in his deep red button-down shirt and black pants. If it weren’t for the fact that I’m in a black Peter Pan collar dress with tights, red ankle boots I borrowed from Fitz, and lipstick the same shade as his shirt. It looks like we planned this.

It was a rookie mistake, honestly, asking Dad. But I didn’t want to interrupt Mom’s writing day. Mom would’ve made polite conversation and hummed along to her favorite Spotify playlist and ignored it. Mom is chill.

Dad is, well, not.

“Look at you, codirectors. Dressing the part! Maybe you’ll start acting like it too?”

The pretty much matching outfits were too much for Aaron Jacobson.