Chapter 2

Emery

I stared at the message until the words stopped looking like English.

UNKNOWN: Whoever you’re hoping notices you would have to be an idiot not to.

My face was on fire.

Piper, naturally, was having the best day of her life.

“Oh my God.” She grabbed my arm. “You’re blushing.”

“I am not.”

“You absolutely are.”

“I’m having some kind of medical event brought on by humiliation.”

“You accidentally sent a hot picture to a stranger, and they flirted with you. This is the greatest thing that’s happened all week.”

“You don’t even know they’re flirting.”

Piper stared at me.

I stared back.

“Emery.”

“What?”

“They basically said anyone who doesn’t think you’re hot is an idiot.”

“They said they’d be an idiot not to notice me. That’s different.”

“Right. Totally different.”

I grabbed the curtain and started closing it.

Piper caught it. “Where are you going?”

“To change my clothes, destroy my phone, and possibly enter witness protection.”

She laughed, but when I crossed my arms over my chest, her expression softened.

“Hey. Are you really upset?”

I looked at myself in the mirror again.

The dress hadn’t changed. My chest still looked too big. My stomach still curved beneath the fabric. My hips were still wider than I wanted them to be.

But now there was a message on my phone from someone who had looked at the exact same picture and apparently hadn’t seen anything ridiculous.

“I don’t know.”

Piper came beside me. “Before you started thinking about Sienna, Bree, Rhett, your mother, every idiot from middle school, and the entire population of Northbridge High, did you like the dress?”

I hesitated.

Because for a few seconds, I had.

I’d liked the green against my skin. I’d liked having a waist instead of hiding it beneath a sweater. I’d even liked my curves before my brain started listing all the reasons I shouldn’t.

“Yes.”

“Then buy it.”

“What if I chicken out and never wear it?”

“Then I’ll break into your house, steal all your giant sweaters, and leave you with no choice.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

I laughed.

Piper bumped my shoulder. “You don’t have to wake up tomorrow loving everything about your body. Just stop letting a bunch of idiots who made fun of you when you were thirteen pick your clothes now.”

I looked at the mirror one more time.

I was still nervous.

Still wondering if the dress was too tight.

Still imagining what people might say.

But maybe Piper was right about one thing.

I’d liked it before I got scared.

“Fine.”

Her eyes widened. “Fine?”

“I’m buying it.”

Piper threw both hands into the air. “Yes!”

“Please don’t make this a moment.”

“This is absolutely a moment.”

“I can still put it back.”

She immediately stopped celebrating.

“Excellent decision. Very normal. Nothing to see here.”

I laughed again.

Maybe that was why Piper could talk me into things nobody else could.

She never made me feel stupid for being afraid.

She just refused to let me stay afraid forever.

⸻

Twenty minutes later, the green dress was mine.

The shopping bag hanging from my hand felt strangely important for something containing one piece of clothing.

Piper headed deeper into the mall.

“Where are you going?”

“Shoes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I own shoes.”

“You own sneakers, boots, and those black flats you’ve had since sophomore year.”

“They still fit.”

“They’re depressing.”

“They’re shoes. They’re not responsible for my emotional well-being.”

My phone buzzed.

I stopped.

Piper stopped too.

Then she slowly smiled.

“No.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Apparently everybody was using my own lines against me today.

I pulled out my phone.

UNKNOWN: So?

That was it.

Just so?

ME: So what?

The answer came quickly.

UNKNOWN: The dress.

Then:

UNKNOWN: Don’t leave me hanging here.

I looked down at the shopping bag.

ME: I bought it.

UNKNOWN: Knew it.

I snorted.

ME: You did not know anything.

UNKNOWN: I knew you looked good in it.

My face warmed again.

Piper was watching me.

“Stop.”

“I haven’t said anything.”

“Your face is saying plenty.”

I turned away from her.

ME: Do you flirt with every wrong number?

There was a pause.

UNKNOWN: First wrong number.

I smiled.

ME: Really? I’m your first?

Send.

I read it again.

My stomach dropped.

Oh God.

ME: That sounded different in my head.

The three dots appeared almost immediately.

UNKNOWN: Nope. Too late. Can’t take it back.

I covered my face.

Piper practically bounced. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“What did you say?”

“Go find your Satan shoes.”

My phone buzzed.

UNKNOWN: And here I thought you were shy.

I stared at the message.

ME: You know literally nothing about me.

UNKNOWN: I know you look good in green.

There went my face again.

ME: I’m blocking you now.

UNKNOWN: No you’re not.

I stared at that.

Cocky.

Whoever this person was, they were definitely cocky.

The annoying part was they were also right.

I hadn’t blocked them.

Piper returned holding a pair of black heels with thin straps.

“No.”

“You haven’t even tried them.”

“Those are not shoes. Those are an emergency-room visit.”

My phone buzzed again.

UNKNOWN: Who was the picture supposed to go to anyway?

ME: My best friend.

UNKNOWN: She the reason you bought it?

I glanced at Piper, who was now trying to convince me that four-inch heels were “practically beginner level.”

ME: Mostly.

UNKNOWN: Mostly?

ME: She has this annoying habit of being right sometimes.

UNKNOWN: Sounds terrible.

I smiled.

ME: You have no idea. She’s currently trying to put me in shoes that could qualify as weapons.

A few seconds passed.

UNKNOWN: Heels?

ME: Obviously.

This pause was longer.

UNKNOWN: Yeah I’m gonna be honest. I’ve reached the end of my fashion knowledge.

I laughed.

ME: Already? You had such a promising career.

UNKNOWN: I had a good run.

Piper shoved the heels into my hands.

“Try them.”

I looked from the shoes to my phone.

For the last ten minutes, I hadn’t thought about whether I was saying the right thing.

I hadn’t wondered if I sounded stupid.

I hadn’t tried to make this person like me.

I’d even accidentally said something that sounded like a bad pickup line, and the world hadn’t ended.

That was…weird.

My phone buzzed again.

UNKNOWN: So what shoes?

I took a picture of the black heels.

My thumb hovered over send.

Then I stopped.

Sending a dress picture to a stranger by accident was one thing.

Sending another picture on purpose was something else entirely.

ME: Nice try. Fashion consultant privileges have been revoked.

The answer came almost immediately.

UNKNOWN: Harsh.

I smiled.

ME: You’ll recover.

UNKNOWN: Probably.

Then another message appeared.

UNKNOWN: Still think you should wear the dress though.

I looked down at the shopping bag.

For some reason, the words didn’t make me want to hide.

ME: Maybe I will.

I put my phone away before Piper could catch me smiling again.

She held out the heels.

“Ready?”

“No.”

“Perfect.”

And as she dragged me toward a bench, my phone felt strangely heavy in my pocket.

Not because I’d accidentally texted a stranger anymore.

Because now I was starting to wonder when they’d text me again.