eight
york
That Saturday, I went stag to the masquerade ball.
I dressed up as a lumberjack in a black-and-red-plaid flannel shirt, blue jeans with suspenders, a black stocking cap, leather work boots, and the shadow of a beard on my jaw.
Ferris went as a sailor, and Harvey the grim reaper. Then, Aria and Wes showed up together, looking like a pirate and a mermaid, which didn’t bother me at all, until about the third song of the dance, when I saw them up in the bleachers making out, hot and heavy.
So hot and heavy, in fact, that it didn’t seem as if this was the first time they’d ever made out before. And I started to wonder if they’d messed around together behind my back when I’d been with Aria.
And that did bug me because I wasn’t completely sure if Wes was the type who’d mack on a
