Chapter 1: Caught in the Flashforward
Taking advantage of the wine, I kissed my childhood friend hard in the living room—flashforward, by the way; we’ll get to how we got here.
The buzz of the alcohol had my heart pounding, and I barely registered the clink-sweat rings from our glasses on the Ikea-style coffee table before I leaned in, grabbing Julian by the collar and pressing my lips to his. Netflix’s home screen hovered on the TV, tiles reflecting faintly on the window, and some old drama’s muted soundtrack played like background static. My breath mingled with his, warm and reckless, while the world outside our window felt miles away.
"Hurry up and take your shirt off already," I blurted, half laughing, half breathless, fingers fumbling at his top button like I’d forgotten how clothes worked.
My words tumbled out in a messy rush, half teasing, half desperate—the kind of thing you say when you think no one else in the world is listening, and your nerve is three sips ahead of your good sense.
Just then, the living room lights suddenly flicked on from the floor lamp by the couch.
I blinked against the sudden brightness, disoriented, still clutching Julian’s shirt. Heat surged into my cheeks and then whooshed out just as fast, leaving me cold and shaky; my mouth went dry, pulse slamming in my ears. The reality check was brutal.
I awkwardly met my mom's eyes, just about to explain myself.
She stood in the doorway, keys still jangling in her hand, one brow arched, lips pursed like she was holding back a laugh. I opened my mouth to stammer out some excuse, but words died in my throat. Julian scrambled upright, tugging his shirt back down, his face as red as mine.
Unexpectedly, she turned excitedly to my godmother and said, "The plan worked!"
?
My jaw dropped, my heart stuttered, and my hands trembled so hard I nearly knocked over a wineglass. Julian froze, and I glanced over at him, silently screaming: What the hell?
Turns out I was set up—freeze-frame; we’ll rewind now and you can watch me find out the hard way.