Stacey’s smile was wrong.
It wasn’t her usual smug, glittery one. This was smaller. Tighter. Calculated.
“Sure,” she said again, her voice sugar-dipped. “Let’s prove it then. Right here and now.”
I didn’t say anything. My throat was tight.
Kate stood beside me, arms crossed. “Prove what?”
“That he’d still pick her over me. That he’s not just bored or doing community service or whatever this is.” Stacey’s eyes flicked down to my dress again. “Because I’m not buying the whole ‘Marcus loves the curvy girl now’ plot twist. Doesn’t fit the genre.”
My stomach flipped.
“I mean, what guy trades in a Porsche for a… minivan?” she added with a tilt of her head.
I could feel every word slicing into me. My hands clenched at my sides, fingers digging into the cheap plastic handles of our shopping bags. I was not going to cry at Lululemon.
Stacey pulled out her phone. Her nails tapped the screen with a slow, deliberate rhythm, like she wanted us to watch. “Let’s just ask him. Shall we?”
“Stacey,” Kate warned, stepping forward.
But Stacey already had the phone ringing. She pressed it to the speaker.
The ring buzzed once. Twice.
Then—
“Stacey?” Marcus’s voice came through, casual but alert.
“Hey babe,” she said, leaning her weight onto one hip. “Wanna meet up? No strings. Just us. I’m at Southgate Mall.”
There was a pause on his end.
My skin crawled. My entire body was pulsing with dread.
Marcus spoke again. “Where exactly?”
“Food court,” she said, with a wink at me. “By the big pretzel stand.”
He didn’t hesitate. “Be there soon.”
Click.
The call ended.
The silence afterward was worse than anything.
Stacey turned her full attention to me. Her smile stretched.
“See how fast that was?” she said. “Easy. Some of us don’t have to try.”
She tucked her phone into her purse like a weapon she no longer needed. “He’s not coming for you. He’s coming for me. That’s how this works. You’re just… the joke.”
Kate stepped between us. “Back. Off.”
But I couldn’t hear her. My brain was already spiraling.
What if she was right?
My stomach twisted hard. I wanted to leave. I wanted to vanish.
Everything I’d felt earlier—the rush of trying on those new clothes, the tiny flicker of confidence—collapsed.
She saw it.
She knew she hit the target.
She leaned down just slightly. “You thought you were the main character? No, Betty. You’re the plot device.”
I flinched. I didn’t mean to, but I did.
And she stood there, drinking it in.
Kate’s voice was fierce now. “Betty, come on, let’s go—”
But then we heard them.
Footsteps.
Fast. Confidence.
I turned, barely breathing.
Marcus.
He came through the mall’s main entrance, scanning quickly. His hair was windblown, his hoodie thrown over a plain t-shirt. His eyes moved over the crowd like he was searching.
For someone.
“Where’s Betty?” he called out, loud and clear.
Stacey straightened. “Marcus, I’m right—”
He didn’t even glance at her.
He was already walking toward me.
“Betty,” he said again, louder this time. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?”