Thanks be to EBT.
Ben pulls out my chair, asks me how my day's going, and shares his French fries with me at lunch. And I smile.
I genuinely smile. And it dawns on me that the last time I smiled like this, felt like this, was with him.
Him.
Not you.
And as we're all sitting at the lunch table, listening to Bella go over the final prom details, I wonder what I'm doing with you.
Not just because you're with Bella, though that's reason enough, but because I know you're bad for me.
You've been bad for me.
You're not Ben.
You're not nice or sweet or caring.
You don't even know how you feel about me.
He doesn't make me feel like a whore or filthy or horrible.
He makes me feel beautiful and intelligent and… worthy.