Chapter 2

I didn't even look at them as I slid into the backseat, keeping my gaze fixed out the window.

I'd fought too many times over that front passenger seat. When Brielle was around, it was always hers. Always.

"She gets carsick unless she's next to me," Carter had explained once, like it was normal.

I fumed, baffled. He thought I was being petty.

This time, though, I kept quiet. Carter seemed surprised by that. Maybe even a little confused.

As the car started moving, Brielle twisted around in her seat, her voice syrupy sweet.

"Skylar, you've lost so much weight in just two days! Let me take you out to dinner to apologize for Carter, okay?"

She flashed me that same rehearsed smile, the one that always seemed a little too perfect.

"Next time, I'll make sure you're invited to our hangouts!" she added, like I was some guest who didn't belong.

I didn't respond. "No need," I said, cutting her off before she could say more. "Just take me home."

Carter ignored me. He pulled into a busy street lined with restaurants instead.

"You look like you haven't eaten in ages. Stop being so stubborn," he scolded, but it sounded like a line more than concern. He didn't care about me, just about getting me to comply.

We parked, and as we got out, Brielle latched onto Carter's arm like he was her lifeline.

"Carter, I want a Matcha Latte!" she demanded, like she was still the little girl who got whatever she wanted.

"You're about to start your period," he replied, in that annoyingly calm, parental tone. "No iced drinks."

They were a pair. They didn't even try to hide it.

He knew her body better than mine.

At the restaurant, the server brought us lemon water, and Brielle immediately swiped Carter's glass, sipping it with a giggle.

"Yours is so sour!" she teased, scrunching up her nose.

Carter just smiled, a soft, fond look in his eyes as he pinched her cheek. "You've got to stop stealing my stuff."

Then, as if she couldn't help herself, Brielle turned to me.

"Skylar, you're not mad, right? I mean, we've always shared everything since we were kids," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

Carter froze, realizing how wrong that sounded.

I shrugged. "Doesn't bother me. You've shared everything since you were kids, right? Makes sense."

He let out a relieved breath, like he was impressed by my "maturity."

For the first time, I didn't care. Not about their flirting, not about their weird, twisted dynamic.

When Carter peeled a shrimp for me, and Brielle snatched it before it could even reach my plate, I just watched.

"How sweet! You remembered I love shrimp!" she cooed, putting it on her plate with a satisfied smile.

Carter rolled his eyes, amused. "Slow down. No one's gonna take it from you."

Brielle slid the shrimp onto my plate like she was doing me a favor. "Here, Skylar. Have some. If it's not enough, I'll make Carter peel more for me."

"I don't like shrimp," I said flatly, pushing it away.

Carter's brow furrowed. He had no idea why I was acting like this—shrimp had always been my favorite.

But I didn't eat food that had been taken from someone else's plate. Especially not when I knew the person was allergic to it, and took it just for attention.

Brielle's face broke out in hives on the way back, just as I knew it would.

Carter dropped me off on the side of the road, his face already set in that familiar expression of concern—only it wasn't for me.

"Brielle needs to go to the hospital," he said, his eyes glued to her as she writhed in the front seat. "Call a cab."

I didn't even get a chance to speak. He was already driving off, fully focused on her.

The streetlights were dim, and before I could take a step, two tall guys stepped out from the shadows.

"She's got a nice body," one of them said with a leer. "Let's grab her."