Rumors and Lies at Evermore High Boxset: Three Sweet YA Romances

by Emily Lowry

  I was thinking about Dylan.

  He came for me when I needed him the most. He understood me more than anyone I’d ever met. More than Chase, even. He understood that he couldn’t fix what was happening. He knew that I couldn’t fix what was happening even if I wanted to. And he didn’t try to fix everything. He didn’t tell me everything was going to be okay because he knew that it wasn’t. He just sat with me in silence and let me be broken.

  And that was amazing.

  I tilted my head and looked up to him. We weren’t far apart.

  “Do you think… do you think love ruins friendships?” I asked. “Like my parents? Does it always end up that way?”

  His eyes met mine. His hand was still on my shoulder. “Depends on the friends.”

  I inched closer. His scent, the smell of fresh rain, was almost overpowering now. I wanted to lose myself in it. “Hypothetically?”

  For the briefest of moments, his eyes flickered to my lips. “What do you think?”

  What did I think?

  I saw what happened — what was happening — to my parents. It was clear:

  Love ruined friendships.

  But here, sitting on the hood of a car with Dylan, anything — even love — ruining what we had seemed so impossible. So distant. My heart beat so fast I was sure that he could hear it. Some distant voice was telling me to stop, was telling me to pay attention to the red light.

  “Love ruins everything,” I said. There was no conviction in my voice. “That’s why some things can’t happen. Even if I wanted them to.”

  “Right. Some things can’t happen.”

  And yet, we couldn’t stop staring at each other.

  Dylan reached up, brushed a strand of hair from my face. His hand didn’t leave my cheek. “And there’s rules,” he said.

  “There’s rules.”

  “Like your best friend’s sister… she’s off-limits.”

  “Rules like that,” I agreed.

  My heart beat faster.

  “Hypothetically.”

  “Hypothetically.”

  We inched closer together, almost intoxicated. It was getting harder and harder to breathe.

  “That’s why some things can’t happen,” I repeated.

  Dylan rubbed his thumb on my cheek. “Because…”

  “Because…”

  Dylan pulled me close.

  His lips touched mine, and I was swept into a summer rainstorm. I felt the breathtaking chill of water trickling down my back, the coolness of rain washing over me. Goosebumps rose on my arms.

  He pulled away.

  His eyes found mine. They were full of questions. “Is this… okay? Are you okay?”

  I was more than okay.

  “No one finds out about this,” I whispered. My heart was pounding out of my chest.

  “No one,” he agreed, his voice rough.

  And that was all I needed to hear.

  I put my hand on the back of his neck and pulled him towards me. Our lips met, perfectly fitting together. I leaned back, feeling the coolness of the windshield on my lower back, contrasting with the warmth of Dylan’s body on mine.

  Something so wrong had never felt so right.

  33

  Dylan

  It was only ten in the morning, and I was on my thirteenth cup of coffee. The coffee was so strong that if you put a spoon in it, the spoon would stay standing. Honestly, I needed the caffeine. I hadn’t slept much. Every time I closed my eyes, I thought about Jordyn.

  I had kissed her. And I’d liked it.

  More than liked it.

  What did it mean? What was it supposed to mean? Were we still friends, or were we more? My thoughts rampaged, the noise drowning out everything around me.

  I had no idea what it meant, but I knew one thing for certain: I wanted to do it again.

  I tried to check the inventory, but I found myself repeatedly opening the same boxes and marking off the same columns on the tablet.

  Dude. Get it together.

  Jordyn would arrive soon. And when she did, I planned to ask her out on a date. A real one. It felt like there was something between us, something real, and I figured the only way to know if she felt the same was to take my shot.

  Thinking about asking her made me nervous.

  The coffee didn’t help.

  I poured my last cup down the drain, found a package of mints, and stuffed one in my mouth, crunching furiously. Couldn’t ask a girl out with coffee breath, could I?

  I was just starting to calm my nerves when the back door opened.

  Jordyn waltzed in. Threw her jacket on the coat rack. It fell to the floor. She glared at it, picked it up, and tried again. It stayed up this time. “Ramirez.”

  “Jordones.”

  Jordyn smirked and raised her eyebrows. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  “Shut up.”

  “You’re so charming in the morning.”

  “I haven’t had my coffee,” I lied.

  Way to go, Dylan. Way to start everything off as awkwardly as possible. And how was she acting so calm, so normal?

  I cleared my throat and closed the door. The office suddenly felt smaller than usual, like there wasn’t enough space in here.

  “Oh, a closed door,” Jordyn said. “Am I in trouble? Or are you hoping for a repeat of the other night?”

  How could she be so casual? It was almost infuriating.

  “It’s not like that,” I said. I took a step towards her. “Well, it is. But not like, right now. I want…”

  “Spit it out, Ramirez.”

  I let out a groan of frustration, and before I even knew what I was doing, I closed the remaining space between us, my lips meeting hers.

  The world spun as I kissed her. Kissing Jordyn was, well — wow. Kissing other girls hadn’t felt like this.

  When I finally broke the kiss, I looked down at her. What was she thinking?

  Her blue eyes met my stare defiantly.

  It was now or never.

  “I want to take you out on a date. A real date.”

  34

  Jordyn

  A date with Dylan Ramirez?

  A real date?

  I eyed him to figure out if he was teasing me. He wasn’t. Of course he wasn’t. We’d shared something special the other night. He’d just kissed me again, a kiss that felt passionate, sincere. Teasing me when I was at my most vulnerable would’ve been terrible, and it’s not something Dylan would do. He could practically read my mind. Did that bother me? I wasn’t sure.

  But if Dylan wanted me to go on a real date with him… he was serious. He thought there was something between us.

  Was I ready for something like this? This was the only boy I had ever felt real feelings for. The only boy who had ever made my stomach fill with butterflies, made my heart skip a beat. If I was being honest with myself, deep down, I had wanted this for a very long time. And now that it was happening, I was scared.

  Fear was not an emotion I liked to entertain.

  I took a deep breath and kept my voice low, trying way too hard to sound casual. “If we’re going to go on a date — a real date — I have some conditions.”

  “Like?”

  “We have to keep it a secret,” I said simply. “From my brother. From your family. From Click. From everyone. Right now, everything feels like magic. But when people find out, when all of this becomes real, everything breaks. And I don’t want this to break. Not yet.”

  It was probably the most honest I’d ever been. I felt intensely vulnerable.

  Dylan smiled. “So, let’s do it. Let’s keep it a secret. From Click. From everyone.”

  I wanted to kiss him again. Instead, I did my usual Jordyn maneuver and pretended to examine my nails. With boys, you couldn’t appear too excited. It scared them away. “I’d like to see how you’re going to keep our date a secret, Ramirez. Especially when I have some anonymous jerk trying to blast me across Click.”

  “I’ve got a few tricks up my sle
eve,” Dylan said. “Meet me here tomorrow. Midnight.”

  “Tomorrow at midnight,” I agreed.

  Midnight. What kind of time was that for a first date?

  Answer: the perfect time for two people doing everything they could to keep that date a secret.

  What, exactly, did a person wear for a midnight date? In fact, what did a person wear for any date?

  I thought about video calling Hailey, queen of the outfits. But if I did that, I would have to tell her I was going on a date with Dylan freaking Ramirez. I wasn’t sure if she’d scream or laugh or simply refuse to believe me. And I wasn’t sure I was ready for any of those reactions.

  I could hardly believe it myself as I stood in the center of my room in a bra and jeans, hopelessly flipping through my closet for the right shirt. My nerves jangled. This was all so new, so exciting, so forbidden — and the way Dylan kissed me made me feel a way nobody ever made me feel before.

  So here I was, sneaking out of my house at midnight tonight.

  A jolt of anticipation buzzed through me as I remembered the electric feeling of Dylan’s lips on mine, the way his hands had tangled in my hair as he pulled me close to him.

  All I knew is I wanted him to do it again.

  And again.

  And again.

  I tried on three tops before settling for a floaty blue tank with ribbon spaghetti straps that emphasized my dark blue eyes. I fishtail braided my hair the way Hailey had taught me and only stabbed myself in the eye twice with my mascara wand. Satisfied, I slicked on some coconut lip gloss and called it good.

  Or at least, it was as good as it would get.

  I slipped on my Vans and crept past my parents’ room and downstairs. All the lights were off, but one glance at the driveway confirmed my dad wasn’t home. Where was he? With who?

  I pushed all thoughts of my parents away as I started my car and backed out of the driveway with my headlights still off. Tonight wasn’t about them, it was about Dylan and me.

  The thought made my heart pound.

  The drive to Beachbreak couldn’t have taken more than fifteen minutes, but it felt like it took fifteen hours. Every light was red, and somehow, despite it being near midnight, there was traffic throughout Evermore.

  Finally, I arrived.

  Dylan was waiting outside the back door, casually leaning against the wall. He was wearing a black sweater that showed off his athletic, muscular frame and complemented his olive complexion. He smiled slowly as he took in my appearance, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Butterflies swarmed my stomach. I could hardly believe how much the world had flipped on its head in the past few days. Dylan Ramirez, hot football running back, serial cheerleader dater, and my childhood crush and bath time buddy, was smiling like that for me.

  His eyes met mine, and he smiled again. “You look beautiful.”

  I did? The words sounded so strange, coming from the mouth of the boy I’d known all my life. I waited for him to follow his compliment with a jab. When he didn’t, I looked to the sky and pretended I wasn’t blushing furiously. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  “Follow me.”

  We walked around Beachbreak to the secret set of stairs that lead to our outdoor, riverside patio. It was nearly impossible to get tables there. Unfortunately, it was also exactly where someone trying to capture me for Click would look. If he was planning for us to eat on the beach, it wasn’t going to work.

  Ugh.

  I couldn’t believe how much I wanted this to work. How much I wanted Dylan to not disappoint me. A midnight dinner on the beach was romantic, but—

  There were no tables set up on the beach. No picnic blanket. Nothing at all to show what he had planned.

  Maybe we were just going for a walk?

  “Give me a sec,” Dylan said. He practically dove through a patch of nearby bushes, reaching for something. He found what he was looking for, grunted, pulled, and emerged from the bushes dragging a large raft. He hauled it to the water’s edge, careful to ensure that it didn’t float away.

  The raft looked familiar.

  “Where did you get that?” I asked.

  “Hailey kept it around after Trey had his Riverwalk concert,” Dylan said. He dove back into the bush, and this time pulled out a bottle of sparkling apple juice, two plastic wine glasses, and an insulated bag. He took my hand and helped me on the raft. It wobbled slightly, and I fell into his chest.

  He grinned. “As if that wasn’t intentional.”

  “You wish, Ramirez,” I snapped before quickly turning away. Since when did being around Dylan make me blush so much? Was this annoying trend the start of something larger?

  I took the bag of food. “Thanks. You can go now.”

  “Funny,” he said, a hint of laughter in his voice. He went back to the bushes one last time and emerged with a paddle. He hopped on the raft and pushed us away from shore.

  The river pulled us into the current.

  Once we were away from the shore, it was surprisingly cold, and I shivered.

  “Check the bag,” Dylan said.

  I did. Inside the bag, next to something that smelled delicious, was a black, oversized Panthers hoodie. The name ‘Ramirez’ was etched into the shoulder, along with Dylan’s number 30. Without asking permission, I put the hoodie on and savored the warmth. It smelled like him.

  “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?” I asked. “Did you write a song to serenade me with? That’s what Trey—”

  Before I could finish my sentence, Dylan started singing.

  Loudly.

  And obnoxiously.

  “Someone will hear,” I whisper-shouted.

  That only made him sing louder.

  I glared, tackled him, and put my hand over his mouth.

  “Can’t stop this singing voice, Jones,” he said through my fingers, before starting to sing YET AGAIN.

  There was only one way to get his painfully obnoxious singing to stop. I took my hand away from his mouth, leaned in, and kissed him.

  The singing stopped.

  But as soon as I pulled away, he took a deep breath, ready to belt out another show tune, which, of course, forced me to kiss him again.

  “We can keep going like this all night,” Dylan smirked, then threatened to break into song again.

  “I can’t do this all night,” I whispered. “The food smells too good.”

  “Always thinking with your stomach, Jones.”

  “Obviously. Why else would I spend so much time with you?”

  Dylan laughed. He pulled the food out of the bag and set it on the raft. For the evening, we’d be dining on two Midnight Meals with chocolate shakes as a side. And for dessert? New York-style cheesecake, purchased from a mom and pop bakery on Main Street.

  It was exceptional. Each bite was a complete explosion of absolute deliciousness. The adjustments Dylan made to the recipe? Perfect. If I could have married that meal, I would have.

  We floated along the river, the Riverwalk and Beachbreak disappearing behind us, replaced by thick forest. There were a few hiking paths along the edge of the river, but no one would be on them this late at night. Dylan had figured out the perfect date, an ideal combination of the two things I craved: food and privacy.

  Dylan handed me a tiny fork for the cheesecake. “How are you doing with everything with your parents?”

  “Trying not to think about it.”

  “Sorry.”

  I took a bite of the cheesecake — delicious, obviously — and waved away his apology. “It’s fine. I mean you asking is fine. Honestly, I’m trying to be all casual about it, but it’s hard. Really hard. Harder than I ever thought it would be. And I know how stupid it sounds because Chase and I have been saying that we want them to get divorced. But now that it’s actually here, actually happening, I just…”

  In the ultimate gentleman’s move, Dylan set his unfinished cheesecake aside so he could put his arm around me and hold me against his chest. “It’s okay for things
to be hard. And you don’t have to pretend things aren’t hard. Not around me.”

  I rested my head on his shoulder, continuing to eat my cheesecake. “I know.”

  We finished our food, continuing to drift deeper into the forest. The conversation drifted with us. He told me more embarrassing stories about Luis, and I wasn’t ashamed to cackle like a hyena. I didn’t have any embarrassing stories about Chase to share — Dylan knew all of those already. I briefly considered telling him one about Hailey, but I didn’t want to sacrifice her pride.

  The river pulled us into the lagoon.

  An incredible sight greeted us.

  Hundreds — maybe thousands — of fireflies danced in the sky. Their reflections shimmered off the slow water.

  And off Dylan’s eyes.

  I traced my fingers along his temple, then wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into me. We settled into a comfortable balance of kissing and chatting while the fireflies flew around us. It almost didn’t feel real.

  “Do you ever wonder what will happen when everyone gets back?” I asked.

  “All the time,” Dylan whispered. I felt his voice on my lips. “But maybe we don’t have to worry about that right now. Maybe right now, all we have to worry about is each other.”

  “Maybe you’re right.” I pulled back briefly, looking him in the eye. “You have to promise that whatever happens, we’ll still be friends. No matter what.”

  “I promise.”

  I kissed him. “This, whatever this is, I don’t know yet, but it’s just for us.”

  “It’s just for us,” he agreed.

  As long as it was just for us, as long as the outside world didn’t intrude, everything could stay perfect for a little while.

  35

  Dylan

  Pressure meant different things to different people. Sometimes, it made people crumble. Sometimes, it made them into diamonds. I’d always loved everything that came with pressure. When we were marching to the end zone, and there was only time on the clock for one more play, I wanted Chase to put the ball in my gut and let me lower my shoulders and plow through defenders on my way to the game-winning touchdown.