Daphne's Questionable Bet, page 16
The lady blew air out over her lips, making a raspberry sound. “Oh, I don’t know. Six months? A year? The point to where both their parents won’t let them be alone for even a second.”
My jaw dropped. “What?”
“You two are adorable together,” the lady said. “I’m glad my son hasn’t found someone to look at like that. I’m not ready to deal with all that crap.”
I opened my mouth, ready to chew her out, when Veronica threw her arms around me and held me back, turning me away from the lady.
“Easy, Daph,” she whispered.
“She has no idea what she’s talking about,” I said with a huff.
“I’m going to release you now. You won’t do anything stupid, will you?”
I tried to look away, but she put her finger on my chin and turned me toward her. I sighed. “No.”
Veronica slowly lowered her arms. “If you don’t like Weston like that—which we both know you do—no more touching, young lady.”
“Easy peasy,” I said.
My phone vibrated, an incoming message from an unknown phone number.
It’s done. Pic taken down and deleted. Plus, a couple others, like one of you dancing in a onesie in your bedroom, and one with your pants ripped. You wear Care Bear underwear?
Dax had pulled through. And somehow found my number, which I guess wasn’t too surprising given his extracurricular activities.
But, seriously? Was Rosalind freaking stalking me? That was beyond creepy. And she had the photo from the bookstore. Well, not anymore thanks to Dax.
Me: It’s a long story, but, no, I don’t usually wear Care Bear underwear. Thank you, by the way.
Dax: You should get a restraining order, man. She seems to be obsessed with spying on people. She even has a picture of two pirates kissing in a car. Girl has issues.
I froze. Two pirates? She couldn’t have been spying on my mom, could she? I might need to get Dax to delete more pictures from Rosalind’s phone. I mean, what else did she have?
DeShawn and Weston came back, both holding drinks and snacks. Weston had a box of Sour Patch Kids and a box of peanut M&Ms squished between his two hands, which were holding our sodas.
“Can you grab those?” Weston asked.
“Sure!” I reached up, attacking the situation like a puzzle. I couldn’t touch the guy. His fingers were touching both boxes on the side. So, I needed to come from the top. I pinched my fingers over the top of the two boxes and slowly wriggled them loose, ignoring Weston’s stare.
He sat down next to me, our legs touching. Wasn’t much I could do about that. The whole row was squished together. I was up against Veronica, too. Besides, I wasn’t touching him. He was touching me.
He held out my Coke. I came in from the top again, making sure our fingers didn’t brush. It was a little more difficult than I thought it would be, but I made it work. I took a sip and smacked my lips together. It was missing something.
Reaching into my bag, I fished around for my bottle of cherry syrup and pulled it out. I squeezed some into my soda, then stirred it around with my straw.
“That’s brilliant,” Weston said with a smile.
I held the bottle out to him. “Want some?”
“Yeah.” He went to take the bottle, but it was small, so no way our fingers couldn’t touch.
I motioned to his lid. “Take it off. I’ll pour some in.”
He did as told, telling me when to stop.
“You’re being ridiculous,” Veronica whispered into my ear.
“Oh, am I?” I narrowed my eyes at her. “You told me, ‘no touching.’ So, that’s what I’m doing.”
She answered by rolling her eyes.
Keeping track of all my movements for the rest of the game was draining, and so stupid. I mean, touching someone didn’t mean anything. I touched Veronica and Taylor all the time. Didn’t mean I was hitting on them. I was just comfortable with them because they were my friends.
I considered Weston a friend. We’d gotten to that point, right?
Thinking about it gave me a headache, so I changed my focus.
I hated to admit it, but Sierra was pretty good at playing basketball. She, like, made a bunch of baskets and had a bunch of rebounds and stuff like that. I was mildly impressed.
For those couple of hours, I forgot she was my enemy. We cheered her on, and the whole team.
Then I remembered what she did to me. That picture she’d snapped and uploaded, trying to make a fool out of me. Then I thought about everything her mom had done to mine. How she had tried to break my parents up, which, if she had succeeded, would mean I wouldn’t exist. The thought made me shiver.
And then, when I thought, maybe, just maybe, my resolve was softening, Sierra made the game-winning shot. Pretty cool for her, yeah. But out of everyone in the crowd, her parents, friends, coach, fellow teammates, there was only one person she sought out in the crowd. One person to smile at, wink at, and even blow a kiss to, like she was kissing them goodbye.
Me.
Oh, it was on.
Chapter Thirty-One
Taylor had sent a group text to Veronica and me with a blue heart emoji and, “Wish I was with you ladies! Have fun!”
She’d put the food coloring in the body wash. The blue heart was the signal.
After the game, the student council went to work, setting up the gym for the fundraiser. Everyone who was staying milled about, talking outside of the gym.
“Man, that Sierra Winters can shoot,” DeShawn said, his arm wrapped around Veronica’s shoulder.
She reached up, linking their fingers together. Her hand looked so small in his. “I didn’t know she was that good.”
“She has a scholarship to UCLA,” Weston said, sounding surprised that none of us knew that information.
“Really?” I thought back to all my encounters with her, but it wasn’t like we did much talking about our lives. It mostly consisted of salty glares, insults, and smirks. Maybe we needed to broaden our communication.
Weston’s fingers brushed against mine, so I quickly folded my arms, pulling them close to my chest. He wanted to hold my hand. I wanted him to hold my hand.
It couldn’t happen.
I just needed to get through prom, go with Bentley, then my path would be open to pursue anyone I wanted.
Too bad prom was still months away.
We should have done Sadie’s. It was at the end of the month. We could both ask Bentley on the same day, then see who he picks. Maybe I could pitch the idea to Sierra. She probably wanted this to end as much as I did.
A high-pitched scream came from the girl’s locker room.
Veronica and I shared a smile, knowing it could only mean one thing. Sierra had used her body wash.
A few women took off toward the locker room, probably to see what was going on.
“Wonder what that was all about?” DeShawn asked.
I snorted. “Someone probably saw a spider.”
Weston chuckled. “Probably.” He leaned toward me, glancing at my folded arms. “Are you cold? I have a sweater in the car.”
I wasn’t cold. Maybe cold-hearted. I needed to talk to Veronica. This was all getting out of hand, and it had barely even started.
“Do you mind?” I asked.
He smiled. “I’ll go get it.”
I snatched Veronica’s hand and yanked her away from DeShawn. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
As I tugged her toward the bathroom, DeShawn muttered, “Girls are so weird.”
“If you have to pee so badly,” Veronica said, yanking her hand from mine. “Then go!”
When we got into the bathroom, I rounded on her. “I have a problem.”
“A problem? Girl, you have a lot of problems.”
“I like Weston.”
“Yeah, I know.”
I paced the bathroom, ignoring all the people staring at me. “But I have a family legacy to uphold.”
Veronica tilted her head to the side. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I just don’t want her to win! I’ll let my mom down. I’ll let my dad down.”
Veronica came up to me, putting her hands on my arms and stopping me in my tracks. “You won’t be letting anyone down. It was a stupid bet. Just call it off.”
“Call it off?”
She nodded. “Call it off. I think even if you talked to your mom, she’d agree.”
My heart began to pound away at my ribcage. I hated bullies. Had I become one by what I had done to Sierra? It was just a prank, right? It was just a stupid bet. Not even that big of a deal. Then why did I feel so horrible?
I hated my mind, the way it turned on me, took me to a dark place. A lonely place. I was such an idiot to agree with the bet in the first place. I mean, honestly, Bentley would have never chosen me over Sierra, anyway. I wasn’t Bentley Anderson material. I wasn’t even Weston Ashworth material.
I was loser material. Weird and quirky. A freak. Those girls at my old school? They were right. I didn’t know how to be normal. My brain didn’t think in a regular way. I was a hotwired mess, my mind as spastic as my dance moves.
Every gasp for air hurt. I kept reaching for another, like if I piled them up inside, the air would push out all the crazy. It would settle everything down, putting it in its place.
Why was everything spinning? I closed my eyes, wishing it all away. My lips were dry, each breath painful over my skin. Realizing I was on the floor, I closed in on myself, tucking my body into a ball, rocking forward and back, and humming.
Breathe. I needed to even my breathing. Slow it down. In and hold. My scratchy, dry throat craved water. Something cold. Cherry Coke. Those carbonation bubbles sounded nice right about now.
What had I done with the Coke Weston got me? Had I finished it? No, I hadn’t. I left in on the stands like a heathen. I hated those people. I mean, honestly, how hard was it to take it with you and throw it away?
I pushed my palms against my eyes, wanting my thoughts to just chill. None of that mattered right now. Breathing calmly, that was what mattered.
How did I do that?
In. Hold. Out. Repeat.
Right?
Shut out the noise.
Happy things. All the happy things. Care Bears and Captain America, saving the world. I pictured them fighting together, the thought making me smile. They’d get along pretty great. I could see Captain America throwing his shield, a Care Bear using a rainbow to change the trajectory, the enemy bursting apart, glitter and sparkles flying everywhere.
I wondered if the Care Bears people would want to do a mash-up with Marvel? I’d watch it. There would be death, but there would be cheer.
My breathing slowed, getting into a better rhythm.
“Daphne?” Veronica’s sweet voice broke in, the warmth of her hand seeping through my arm.
I fell into her, her arms wrapping around me and pulling me close. She rocked me in her arms until I finally calmed. She moved her arm, typing something on her phone, but I was too focused on her beating heart to care.
A moment later, DeShawn’s booming voice echoed around the bathroom walls. “Ladies, I’m coming in! I’m not a pervert! I’m here for medical reasons only!”
“There’s no one else in here,” Veronica said through her laugh.
DeShawn came around the corner, lowering his big arms. “Oh, cool.” He looked around. “This is where you guys always come to hang out?” His thick lips pulled down into a frown. “I was expecting something nicer. Like couches and snacks and stuff.”
“Why would that be in here?” Veronica asked.
He shrugged. “Girls are always coming in here together. I figured there was a good reason why.”
My eyes swept past him to see a concerned Weston, holding his jacket in his arms. He was staring at me, hesitant, like he was waiting for my approval or something.
When I nodded at him, he hurried over to me, dropping to his knees. Wrapping his jacket around me, he took me from Veronica’s arms and held me close.
He didn’t say anything, just held me until I was ready to leave.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Mom was waiting on the front porch when we pulled up. Weston jogged around and opened the door for me, helping my shaky self out of the van.
Wrapping his arm around my shoulder, he steered me toward the front of the house. I leaned into him, grateful for the support.
“You’re going to want to stop hanging out with me, aren’t you?” I said.
“Why would you think that?” he asked.
“Oh, I don’t know, every time we do, I have a panic attack and need to be taken home?”
He rubbed my arm. “I don’t mind. The time spent with you makes it all worth it.”
How I adored this boy. Which was why I needed to call off the bet.
When we got to the porch steps, Mom took me from Weston, wrapping her warm arms around me.
“Thank you, Weston,” she said.
“No problem.” He smiled at me. “I’ll come by tomorrow and see how you’re doing.” He pointed at me. “And get my jacket.”
That was the second time I’d stolen his jacket from him. Maybe I just needed to keep it.
I mouthed, thank you, to him before I went inside.
Mom took me to the couch and sat down with me, pulling me into her arms. “Spill.”
So, I did. I told her everything. All about the food coloring, how I really liked Weston and needed to call off the bet.
Mom kissed the top of my head. “You can call off the bet after you apologize to Sierra.”
I pulled away, looking at her. “You’re okay with it?”
She tucked some stray hairs behind my ear. “Of course, I am. I got too caught up in an old rivalry. You have nothing to do with it.” She patted my hand. “And given how you ended up with a panic attack, that’s a sure sign that the whole thing was wrong. I’ll find a doctor down here you can see. Maybe they could offer some fresh insight.”
Someone pounded on the door, causing both Mom and me to jump to our feet.
“Daphne!” Sierra’s voice boomed from the other side of the door. “Open up! I know you’re in there.”
Grimacing, Mom patted my back. “Good luck.”
Blowing out a loud breath, I shook out the nerves and went to the door, creaking it open just a bit. I didn’t want her to storm the place.
“How. Could. You?” Sierra seethed.
Instead of turning all blue, like I’d intended, she had splotches of blue all over her face and arms, like she had some sort of disease.
I opened the door a little more. “What happened to you?”
“Don’t you dare pretend that you weren’t a part of this!”
Holding in my laugh was difficult. She looked ridiculous. I had to remind myself that she was blue because of me.
Stepping out on the porch, I shut the door behind me, leaving me alone with her. Probably not my best idea, but we were outside. The doorbell camera could see us, so it wasn’t like she could murder me or anything. At least, not get away with it. Man, the whole thing would make for a great Dateline episode.
“Do you know how important tonight was for me?” she asked.
I gave her two thumbs-up. “Congrats on the game, by the way. That last-minute shot was awesome.” I sang the last word.
“I’m being serious, Daphne.” Tears welled in her eyes, and my stomach sank. “I’ve been waiting for this night forever, and not just because of how much it meant to my basketball career, but it was a chance to get in good with Bentley’s family, not to mention my dad was there.” Her eyes went wide like she’d said too much.
“Does your dad not get to your games very often?” I asked.
“That’s none of your business!” She stepped in close to me, causing me to back into the door. “I will get even. I promise.”
I held up my hand, trying to push her away, but she stayed in place. “Listen, about the bet.”
“You’re going to lose.”
“Yes, I am.”
She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut, confusion crossing over her face.
“I’m calling off the bet,” I said. “You can go with Bentley to prom.”
She finally backed away from me, folding her arms. “Why?”
I shrugged. “Because this whole thing is stupid. We’re fighting our moms’ war. I hardly even know you, yet we’ve been pitted against each other. Maybe we could start over—”
“No.” She wiped furiously at the tears on her cheeks. “You are not backing out of this bet.”
I circled my hand in front of her, motioning to her arms and face. “I think whatever disease you’ve caught has gone to your brain. No more bet. You win.”
“You owe me,” she snarled. “After ruining my night. The bet is still on. We will continue to fight for Bentley’s affections—”
“That’s the thing,” I said. “I’m not into him. I like someone else.”
She pointed a blue-spotted finger at me. “Don’t interrupt me. You are going to try to win Bentley’s affections. You’re going to take this whole thing seriously, doing everything in your power to get him to ask you to prom. But he’s going to pick ME in the end, because I’m the better choice. I’m going to win this fair and square.”
“Uh, none of this sounds fair.” If I were wearing a Care Bear onesie, I’d be pulling the hood up right about now, trying to find cover. Instead, I had my back up against the front door like a cowering fool, twirling some of my hair around my finger.
“Focus all your energy on Bentley. No more pranks. I want him to pick genuinely off our personalities.”
Why was she so adamant about this? “Sierra, I don’t want to, and you can’t make me do this. There’s nothing in it for me.”
“This isn’t about you!” she screamed.
I shrugged. “I mean, it kind of is, since I’m part of the bet.”
She took her phone out of her pocket and pulled up a picture, showing it to me, and my heart dropped to my stomach. The one from the bookstore. My ripped pants, exposed Care Bear underwear, and way too much skin.
