Zoe's POV
The changing room at Rozadelle Marvels buzzed with a kind of controlled chaos that should have grounded me, but instead, my mind kept drifting—back to him.
Back to Brandon.
Back to that stupid conversation in the driveway.
Back to the way he had said it so casually.
She might be there.
I clenched my jaw as Ashley yanked the zipper of the dress up my back a little tighter than necessary.
"You're thinking about him again," she said flatly.
I blinked, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My face gave me away too easily these days. "I'm not," I lied.
Ashley snorted behind me, stepping back to assess her work. "Please. I've known you long enough to tell when your brain is doing gymnastics over a boy."
"It's not just a boy," I muttered, folding my arms. "It's Brandon. And the fact that he still said that knowing fully well Casey is the entire reason I'm mad? Like… how does that even make sense?"
