Daphne's Questionable Bet, page 15
I took a seat on the bed. “I don’t know how to explain it, but Sierra just gets under my skin. She’s all about being fake. Trying to be someone else so people will like her.”
Veronica sat down next to me. “She wasn’t like that before you moved here. It was like this switch flipped.”
“Her mom,” I said.
She bumped my arm. “Just like yours.”
“I’ve never backed out on a bet. Ever. Dad always taught me to see things through to the end.”
She took my hand. “So, this is about your dad.”
“It’s about not being bullied around by anyone.” My voice came out in a whisper.
“Were you bullied at your old school?” she asked.
It was something I’d never told her about. I thought if I ignored it and pretended to be happy, then all would be well. But it wasn’t.
I pushed up from the bed, wiping away some tears that formed at the corner of my eyes. “No. It’s nothing. I should get ready.”
Veronica opened her mouth to say something, but her phone rang. She frowned at the screen before she declined the call.
“Who was that?” I asked.
“My dad,” she said. “He’s been trying to weasel himself back into our lives. Mom and Javy might be buying the changes he’s claiming he made, but I’m not.”
I sorted through the shirts in my closet. “Wait, is he like trying to come back home or something?”
I glanced over my shoulder to see her nodding, twirling her phone between her fingers. “Yep. Mom keeps telling him no, but I can see her resolve slipping.”
I pulled out my favorite Captain America shirt and switched into it. “Would it be so bad to have your dad back? I would kill for that.”
“Your dad didn’t intentionally walk out on your family.” She stood, coming over to my jewelry box and sorting through it. “What if he does it again? Do you know how hard it was to pick all the broken pieces of my mom’s heart off the floor and try to meld them back together?”
I remembered her calling multiple times a day during those times. It hadn’t been easy for anyone in their family. At the time, I’d wanted so desperately to do something to help, but I soon realized the only thing I could really do was be there for her. She just needed a friend, someone to talk to during the trial.
I leaned against my dresser. “Picture your perfect life at home.”
She snorted. “Well, for one, Javy wouldn’t be so messy. Mom would be home more often. Luciana wouldn’t whine so freaking much.”
I smiled at her. “But would your dad be there?”
She fiddled with a pair of cherry earrings in my jewelry box. “I mean, I guess. But the old him.”
“Did he ever say why he left?”
Frowning, she held out the earrings for me to take. “Wear those. And, no, but I haven’t really talked to him.”
I took the earrings and put them in. “Maybe start by just hearing him out. Maybe he just had a mid-life crisis or something. Maybe he realized what an idiot he was.”
She wiped a tear that was sliding down her cheek. “I think I’m just afraid that if we let him back into our lives, he’ll do this to us again.”
Putting my arm around her, I leaned my head against hers. “Yeah, he might, but he might not. I’m a firm believer in second chances. I mean, we all do stupid things.”
Her arms wrapped around my middle, squeezing me tight. “Fine. I’ll talk to him. But I’m only giving him five minutes.”
I patted the top of her head. “Ah, look at you. Growing up. I’m so proud.”
With a laugh, she shoved me away. She backed toward the door, her eyes softening. “Thank you.”
“Always.”
I mean, I had no idea if her dad coming back home was a good thing or not. If he had a pattern of this behavior, I’d be saying no in a heartbeat. But the whole him up and leaving was so out of character from him. So opposite of the man I knew growing up.
I did know that if he hurt my best friend again, there would be no forgiving him. I said a quick prayer that Mr. Rodriguez wouldn’t let me, or his family, down.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Weston picked me up in his mom’s minivan. He wore a blue, black, and white checkered button-down shirt, the cuffs rolled up to just below his elbows. He had the shirt unbuttoned, his Captain America shirt peeking through.
He handed me a bundle of wildflowers when I opened the door. “These are for you.”
I took them from his hand, smiling. “They’re beautiful.”
“They’re from my mom’s garden.” He sputtered it out so fast, it took me a while to piece together what he said. “It’s not like professional or anything, I know.”
My smile grew. “They’re perfect. I’m going to go set them inside.”
As soon as I turned my back on him, my smile faltered. He’d brought me flowers. For our “date.” What was I doing? I couldn’t string this guy along.
But he was really cute. And so sweet.
Ugh.
“What are those?” Mom asked, rounding the corner and spotting the flowers in my hand.
“They’re from Weston,” I whispered.
With wide eyes, she hurried toward me. “What about Bentley?”
“I didn’t know this would be a date!” I clamped my hand over my mouth, hoping Weston hadn’t heard.
She placed her hands on my shoulders. “Just breathe, Daphne. You’ve already said yes for tonight, right?”
I nodded, my hand still over my mouth.
“You’re going to go to the game with Weston, you’re going to be kind, and have fun. Just rein in the flirting.”
I lowered my hand. “I’m not that big of a flirt.”
She scrunched her face. “You can be when you’re not paying attention. Sometimes your excitement comes off as flirting.”
“So, don’t get excited. Got it.”
“Keep your hands to yourself.”
I pressed a hand to my chest. “Mom! Yeesh.”
She rolled her eyes. “Get out of here.” She took the flowers from my hand. “Kind. Friendly. Got it?”
Nodding, I quickly hugged her and then ran out to a still waiting Weston. By the shy smile on his face, he hadn’t heard my outburst, so that was good.
But then he opened the door for me, totally respectful-like, and he was making this super difficult.
I just needed to stay calm. Be chill.
“How’s Ivy?” I asked as we left my driveway.
“Great.” He pointed behind him to the floor behind the chair. “Don’t let me forget. She got you a huge bag of Watermelon Sour Patch Kids. I think you’re her new superhero. She keeps asking when you’re coming over again.” He stole a glance at me, probably watching my reaction.
I couldn’t help but smile. “Well, my schedule is pretty full, but I could probably pencil her in sometime soon.” Like, maybe a couple of months from now when the bet with Sierra was over.
He grinned. “Am I included in this scenario? Or just Ivy?”
I made a little box with my hands, even though he was watching the road. “I don’t know. I mean, the square they put on calendars is so freaking small. ‘Hang with Ivy’ will easily fit on there. But ‘hang with Ivy and Weston?’ That’s a bit much.”
“Just do a w and a slash to shorten with, then an ampersand. That will save some room.”
I snapped my fingers. “Oh! I could just draw a Captain America shield with ivy wrapped around it.”
He scrunched his nose. “Now I’m thinking about Poison Ivy ensnaring Cap, and that really sucks.”
“They aren’t even in the same comic universe.”
“They could do a crossover.”
“If they do that, then Captain America and Wonder Woman need to get together. They go together so perfectly.”
Except, Veronica liked Wonder Woman, and the thought of her and Weston dating made me a little queasy.
“Well,” Weston said, “as long as you let me hang out with you and Ivy, then I’m fine with whatever.”
The queasiness faded, replaced by giddiness.
“Dance Monkey” by Tones and I came on the radio. Weston and I reached for the sound dial at the same time, laughing as we cranked the volume.
“I love this song!” I yelled.
“Me, too!” he yelled back.
We sang out loud—probably off-key—with me dancing like a wild woman. I caught a few people in other cars staring at us, which made me sing to them, making them smile and laugh.
When we pulled into the school and found a parking spot, I hopped out, going around to the front of the van, and playing “Dance Monkey” from my phone, dancing right there in the parking lot.
Weston joined me, and we continued to sing along, our dancing probably as good as our singing, but neither of us cared. I believed this was what true happiness felt like.
“Daphne!” Bentley’s voice came from behind me.
I spun around to see him standing there with his mom, dad, and little sister, all looking super polished, like they were fresh off the cover of a magazine.
I quickly stopped the music on my phone and stuffed it in my back pocket. “Hey, Bentley.”
Bentley was grinning ear to ear. “Don’t stop the dance party because of us.”
“I love that song,” his sister said, smiling at me. “I love her voice!”
“It’s awesome,” Weston said, coming to my side.
Bentley motioned between his parents and us. “Mom, Dad, this is Daphne and Weston.”
We shook their hands, and I did my best to make eye contact and keep my grip firm, wanting to make a good impression.
His sister cleared her throat. “I exist, too, Bentley.”
With a laugh, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “This is Adriana.”
“Who has excellent taste in music,” I said.
She grinned at me.
Mrs. Anderson looked at me. “You were at Zumba, right?” She flicked a finger between Bentley and me. “He’s going to the Regency ball with you?”
I tried to keep my smile from faltering, but I didn’t do a very good job. I couldn’t look at Weston. Didn’t want to. His reaction might break me in two.
“That would be me,” I said, taking some of my hair and twirling it around my finger, twisting it wildly. I couldn’t freak out. Not here.
Shut out the noise, Daphne, I thought.
Mr. Anderson grinned. “Well, at least we know you can dance. Sounds like it’s going to be a fun night.”
“Speaking of which,” Bentley said. “Do we need to practice any dances or anything? I thought we’d just be hanging out, but Adriana is convinced there will be dancing.”
She put her hands on her hips. “There’s always dancing at balls.”
Now I really couldn’t look at Weston. I’d practiced the dances with him. And we’d done a pretty decent job as a pair.
I was surprised my foot wasn’t in pain, because I’d pretty much just shot it repeatedly.
“There’s quite a few, actually,” Weston said, his voice a little tight.
Bentley put his hands on his head. “Okay, we’re definitely going to have to practice. I don’t want to screw up.”
Adriana clasped her hands together. “Can I be there with you? I’ll help set everything up!” She twirled around in her dress. “I do love a good dance.”
“Sure,” I said, smiling at her. “I’ll send Bentley the list of videos.”
“This is going to be splendid!” Adriana said.
Mr. Anderson winked at his daughter. “You’ll be a terrific host.” He nodded at Weston and me. “It was a pleasure to meet you. Enjoy the game.”
I awkwardly waved as they walked off, leaving me alone with Weston.
It was like they had sucked the fun right out of our night.
Weston turned to go inside, not looking at me.
I panicked. I couldn’t break his heart. Veronica said that.
Like a spaz, I ran in front of him, putting my hands on his chest and stopping him. “My mom and I go to the same Zumba class as him and his mom. Which we didn’t know when we picked that one. Cody was there. He brought up the Regency ball and basically invited Bentley to go with us, and Bentley, being the nice guy he is, said yes.” I lowered my hands when I realized they were still on his chest.
Why had I said all that?
“So, it just kind of happened. Doesn’t really mean anything.”
Shut up, Daphne, I thought.
The tension in Weston’s shoulders released. “You’ll have to take video. I can’t picture Bentley doing a Regency dance.”
The anxiety in me started to flutter away. “I know. It’s going to be epic.”
Chapter Thirty
We found Veronica and DeShawn in the bleachers. They were saving us seats, right in the dead center, as she promised.
I mumbled apologies as I maneuvered through the crowd of people. I reached behind me, taking Weston’s hand and guiding him through the maze until we finally got to our seats.
“Good call on the middle seats,” Veronica whispered, not hiding back the sarcasm.
I waved my hand. “All those people like being trampled on. Totally fine.”
We were squished together, the place packed.
“Why can’t we get this kind of turnout at the football games?” DeShawn asked, glancing around. His black hair was cropped close to his head, some slashes carved into the sides, creating a cool design. He had his ears pierced, the large diamonds looking like they were worth more than anything I owned.
“Maybe if you won, they’d come.” I slapped my hands over my mouth, not for the first time that night. I needed a muzzle.
Weston choked on a laugh next to me.
Veronica hit my arm.
“Sorry!” I looked apologetically at DeShawn. “That just came out.”
DeShawn surprised me by laughing, his golden-brown eyes lighting up. “You’re not wrong.”
Both Veronica and I let out breaths of relief. I’d hate to screw anything up between the two of them, even though it was still weird to me that they were together.
I leaned into Veronica. “We need to have a system. If you sense I’m about to say something wrong, pinch me.”
“I’d be happy to.” She pinched my arm hard. “Like that?”
“Ow!” I rubbed my arm. “Yeah, like that.” Then I remembered we needed a photo together. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I opened the picture mode and handed my phone to Weston. “Selfie time!”
The four of us squished together, all holding up our fingers in “number ones.”
The lights in the gym went out, and everyone stomped their feet against the bleachers as the shouts rose.
Right as “Seven Nation Army” by The White Stripes began to play, lights flashed around the gym, creating a strobe effect.
I turned to Weston right as he turned to me. “I love this song!” We said it at the exact same time before we got to our feet, jumping around with everyone else.
The girls’ basketball team ran out on the court like this was the WNBA finals or something. Maybe overkill for a regular series high school basketball game, but whatever. It was fun, and everyone loved it.
When the crowd finally calmed enough to sit down, I realized I was holding Weston’s hand. When had that happened? Did I grab his hand? Or did he grab mine? And why did it feel so nice?
This was so not good.
Letting his hand go, I reached up and tucked my hair behind my ear, trying to act casual. I had a bet to see through. I’d barely moved back. Honestly, I still didn’t know Weston all that well. My hormones needed to chill the crap down.
Too bad every time we scored, Weston and I would high five or hug. Then we started hip bumping, because who didn’t love a good hip bump?
At halftime, we were only down by two.
Weston stood, stretching his legs. The bottom of his joggers had ridden up from sitting down, so I reached forward and tugged them back into place.
“Don’t like the new look?” Weston asked.
“Hey, if you were going for uber-nerd, you nailed it,” I said.
He pumped his fist. “Mission accomplished.” He bent down so he was eye level with me. “I’m going to brave the crowd and get a Coke. You want one?”
I pressed a hand against my dry throat. “Yes, please.”
“I’ll go with you,” DeShawn said, hopping up. His muscles twitched under his tight shirt, and Veronica hadn’t been kidding about the guy beefing up. I think he’d grown like half a foot as well. He bent down, giving Veronica a light kiss on the lips before he and Weston descended.
“That was completely adorable,” I said, batting my eyelashes at Veronica.
Laughing, she shoved my arm. “He’s really sweet.” She turned to me, lifting her chin in her way that said she was about to drop a truth bomb. “What. Was. That?”
“It’s called a kiss, Veronica. You see, when a boy and a girl—”
“I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about you. Pretty sure you told me your mom specifically said, ‘no flirting.’”
I pulled back in surprise. “I never flirted.”
“Oh, really?” She cocked her head to the side. “So, the hand-holding, hugging, hip bumping, any excuse to touch the guy, and then smoothing out his pants like you’re some long-term couple meant absolutely nothing?”
My cheeks flared. “I was trying to be helpful.”
“Helpful is saying, ‘Hey, Weston, your pants have ridden up.’ But you took matters into your own hands.”
I clenched my fists like I could undo it all. So, this was what Mom meant about keeping my hands to myself.
“I told you I like the guy,” Veronica said. “If you keep stringing him along, I’m going to give you a good smackdown, and I’m not even kidding.” She punched my arm, not being the slightest bit gentle. “There’s a preview.”
Frowning, I rubbed my arm. “I’m sorry. It just feels natural to act that way around him. He’s been a good friend.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Friend?” She turned around, tapping the lady behind us on the arm.
“Yes?” the lady asked with a smile.
Veronica pointed at me. “How long would you say she and the boy that was sitting next to her have been together? Like a guess from what you’ve seen.”
