Back Perfect on Paper
Chapters (32)
  1. Copyright Notice
  2. Dedication
  3. ONE
  4. TWO
  5. THREE
  6. FOUR
  7. FIVE
  8. SIX
  9. SEVEN
  10. EIGHT
  11. NINE
  12. CHAPTER TEN
  13. ELEVEN
  14. TWELVE
  15. THIRTEEN
  16. FOURTEEN
  17. FIFTEEN
  18. SIXTEEN
  19. SEVENTEEN
  20. EIGHTEEN
  21. NINETEEN
  22. TWENTY
  23. TWENTY-ONE
  24. TWENTY-TWO
  25. TWENTY-THREE
  26. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  27. Excerpt: Never Ever Getting Back Together
  28. ONE
  29. TWO
  30. Also by Sophie Gonzales
  31. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  32. Newsletter Sign-up

“That’s fine. I’ll be fine. I just, yeah, need to sit down and focus, I guess.”

She didn’t sound certain. But of course she didn’t. She wouldn’t have asked for help if it wasn’t a last resort.

“If you need help, English is my best subject.”

The voice came from behind me, and Brooke and I both looked up to see who’d spoken.

It was Raina. She stood awkwardly, looking at the floor and pulling on the ends of that too-tight ponytail. This alone was unlike her. She was usually forceful and confident—when she pushed her way through a crowd, it was a little like experiencing the running of the bulls. Here and now, though, she seemed almost hesitant.

If I was shocked to hear an offer of assistance from her, Brooke sounded even more so. “I, uh, oh. Hi, Ray.”

“Hi.” Raina’s eyes flickered up briefly at this, but she didn’t smile. “You’re reading The Kite Runner, right? Mr. Elliot assigns that every year. I’m not doing anything tonight, so. I’d be happy to help.” It sounded like the words themselves pained her to say them.

“Help … me?” Brooke asked dumbly. I didn’t blame her. Raina’s attitude toward Brooke ranged from mild disdain at best to outright disgust at worst. This? This was close to a cease-fire.

“Why?” I asked shortly.

Raina looked at me directly now, her gaze icy. “Because it looks terrible if someone on the council fails a major assessment piece,” she said.

Well, that did make more sense for Raina.

“I’m not going to fail,” Brooke protested, but she sounded unsure.

“Do you want a hand or not?”

Brooke hesitated. Good. She wasn’t falling for whatever ploy this might be. For a second, I’d—“I have to drop Darcy home now,” Brooke said.

“Well, I’m free whenever. How about if you decide to take me up on it, you shoot me a message on Insta?”

She didn’t even wait for Brooke’s reply, just turned on her heel and all but sprinted down the rapidly emptying hall. Brooke and I stared after her.

“Do not message her,” I said.

“You don’t think?”

“I do not think. That was way too weird.”

“It was, wasn’t it?”

“Do not message her.”

“Okay. I won’t.”

Brooke looked at me, and I looked at her, and we burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Raina offering to help Brooke out for no gain. What was next? Brougham developing a soft, warm disposition?

After that random-ass display, nothing could surprise me too much.