Chapter 8 CHAPTER 8

I groaned as she launched into a rant about how looking amazing and ignoring him would be the best revenge.

"How about I wear it the day after tomorrow," I bargained. At least then it wouldn't be so fresh out the breakup.

Changing so drastically the next day is a bit much.

"Fine," she conceded. She hung the outfit front and center, a silent reminder Id better keep my promise.

Just as my mother started droning about another shopping trip for jewelry, Amy poked her head in.

Her jaw dropped at the sight of my freshly laid outfit and the bags of old clothes piled like casualties on the floor.

She gasped. "You guys went shopping?!" Her shock was palpable. She clutched two shirts, probably planning to ask my opinion, before forgetting entirely at the sight of the shopping carnage.

"Isn't it great? She finally gave in!" My mother cheered, practically dancing as she waved goodbye to my old pieces.

Amy blinked, frozen for a beat. Then she broke into applause, smiling wide. "Finally Clara! It's about time!" She chimed, joining my mother in celebration.

Her eyes lingered on the new clothes longer than her grin did, like she was calculating what this meant for her. She pivoted smoothly into easy conversation with my mom, the two of them gushing over certain pieces that would flatter me wonderfully.

After my mom left to throw out my so-called hideous pieces, Amy stayed. She reached for the white top, fingers gliding across the soft fabric, then trailed over to the frayed hems of the shorts.

"Wow, Clara. Never thought I'd see the day of you actually dressing girly" she said. Her tone teetered between surprise and something I couldn't quite place.

I paused. Was it just me or did Amy sound a little offended?

"Haven't you been telling me for years I should explore my feminine side? This is me doing that."

"Right." She gave a careless shrug. "I guess it's natural you'd start dressing to get a boy's attention."

I groaned inwardly. Great. This is exactly the perception I was trying to avoid. "I’m not doing this for Kevin."

"I wasn't referring to Kevin."

Her eyes pinned me with a knowing gleam, heavy with implication. Whatever she thought she knew, I didn't like it one bit.

"Then who were you referring to?"I demanded.

Deciding to switch the subject, Amy held up the two shirts she brought-one a light pink tube top, the other a rose colored v-neck. "Which should I wear tomorrow?"

Still reeling from her last statement, I licked my lips inconclusively. "I don't know, the one you prefer?"

Amy rolled her eyes. "If I had a choice I wouldn't be asking. Which do you think Cross would like more?

The tube top makes my boobs look bigger, but the V-neck makes them available to touch," Her voice dripped with impish daring.

I couldn't believe this. Especially after he brushed her off in the parking lot. "How about neither. Forget Cross and move on." I grunted, already fed up she was obsessing over him again.

"Cross will be mine. Just wait and see." She smiled calmly, oozing confidence like he was hers already.

Cross this, Cross that. It's all she ever talked about. I wouldn't have minded if it were simple admiration, but at this point she sounded like a brainless fan-girl.

"Are you sure?" I shot back. "He ignored you when you said 'hi' this morning. He doesn't flirt with you anymore, doesn't text you back, doesn't answer your calls," I listed. And the crazy part is that was only the beginning. "Not to mention, he also…"

"Enough, Clara!" Amy pinched the bridge of her nose. She released a long breath like she was thinning in patience. "Cross does like me. You're just jealous because he never pays attention to you."

My mouth almost dropped, did she honestly think that?

"What? You thinkI didn't notice your attitude earlier?" She pressed.

I shook my head, baffled at what I was hearing. "Amy…

"You have no right to tell me how I'm supposed to feel when you can only ever dream of experiencing Cross the way I have. You may be friends with him and hang out all the time, but at the end of the day that's all you'll ever be: a friend."

"I’d rather be his friend than his play toy. Is there anything you guys have done that doesn't involve sex? I didn't think so." My voice dripped with contempt.

"At least he said he loved me!"

The ground beneath me swayed. What?

"When?" I asked, shocked Cross would ever go that far. He's always gotten what he wanted without extremes.

"The night we slept together." Amy touted, landing an unwavering gaze. "I was nervous, but then he said he loved me. He said when the time was right, he would date me."

"And you believed him?!" I squeaked, stunned Amy

could trust him so easily.

"It's only a matter of time." She blinked flatly, like the answer couldn't be more obvious, "It would be easier too if you'd cooperate. I just didn't expect you to actually like him and go as far as this," she gestured to the outfit on my bed. "I should've known when you cockblocked me earlier," she said, referring to the parking lot incident.

"Whoa, let's get this straight. I did not do this to get Cross's attention. I did this for me. Because I wanted to"

"I sure hope so. It's not like you'd be able to get him if you wanted to," she dismissed, giggling like the idea itself would be the biggest comedy.

A surge of competitiveness rose in me. Sure, Cross was a handsome guy, but how hard of a target could he be.

He was a womanizer. The fact that Amy perched herself on this high horse over one night with him was laughable.

"You act like being with him is so special. Please. If I wanted to, even I could get his attention."

Amy gave me a pitying smile. "Poor Clara. Friends with him for this long and you still don't realize you're not his type."

I rolled my eyes. "Not his type? He's a typical playboy, if i wanted to have him…That’ll be the easiest thing in the world."

"I’d like to see you try" she challenged. By her posture, I could see she was genuinely amused by this.

My offense deepened into resolve.

"Then watch me." I vowed. "And let that show you that if little ol' me can get his attention, any girl can. Maybe then you'll face the facts-he's a womanizer, and you're delusional."

Amy extended her hand, lips curled into a dare. "It's a bet."