Daphne's Questionable Bet, page 27
A special thanks to my Father in heaven for giving me the courage to push through my anxiety and continue writing. Telling stories is one thing that truly gives me joy and I’m grateful for the ability.
And, as always, thank YOU, dear reader, for your support.
About the Author
Sara Jo Cluff grew up in Yorba Linda, California, right next to the Happiest Place on Earth (aka her second home). Now, she resides in Utah with her husband, Chad, and crazy cats.
She loves creating stories from scratch and seeing where the characters take her. When she’s not writing, she’s hanging out with her husband, watching Netflix, reading, or doing jigsaw puzzles.
She’s a proud #PepperPack #Ambassador for the Most Delicious Beverage on Earth: Dr Pepper.
Visit her author website, www.sarajocluff.com, and for merchandise, visit shop.spreadshirt.com/awkwardpepper.
Also by Sara Cluff
THE KISS LIST- When high school student Camille Collins' ex-boyfriend spreads a dirty rumor that she's a terrible kisser, Camille and her friends devise the perfect plan to prove Dylan wrong--a kiss list. Perfect kisses with a few of the hottest guys in school will leave too much evidence for anyone to deny.
FILLER FRIEND - After a catastrophic friendship, Elinora decides that having any relationship isn’t worth the heartbreak. Her parents still want her to socialize, so she starts her Filler Friend operation, unbeknownst to them. She’ll fill-in as a friend for anyone at school, whether it’s getting a gamer out of the house or being a plus one at their parent’s boring work party.
NEW HAVEN SERIES - Seventeen-year-old Emmie Woodard has lived a controlled life. The city of River Springs—run by Infinity Corp—makes all her choices for her. What to wear, what to eat, how to act, and her future in the city. She pushes back during Recruitment, refusing to be the society’s puppet.
THE IMMORTAL LIFE OF COTTON WYLEY - Why be a superhero when you could be the trusty sidekick?
The Kiss List
Chapter 1
I needed a license plate frame that said, “I’d rather be kissing.” Because, honestly, if I could be doing anything right now, it would be kissing.
Which was why I pressed my freshly glossed lips against my boyfriend’s somewhat dry lips. They wouldn’t be dry when I was done with him. Dylan didn’t hesitate—he pulled me into his lean chest, and our lips moved in perfect harmony like Pentatonix. After being together for over a year, it all came naturally.
We were on the leather couch in the front room of my house, me in his lap, his firm arms wrapped tightly around me, holding my body close, and his warm hand cradling the back of my neck. His long fingers drummed like they wanted to move, but he knew better than to let his hands wander. He’d get a solid smack across the cheek, like every time he’d ever tried.
I drew the line at kissing. A dark, thick line that wouldn’t be going away any time soon, no matter how big of an eraser Dylan tried to use.
“Break it up.” At Dad’s deep voice, Dylan picked me up off his lap and set me down next to him.
Dad had one of those voices that no matter what he said, he came across serious, and slightly life-threatening. Add in his short-cropped military hair and huge muscles, and a lot of people stayed clear of him.
Dad didn’t really care that much about us kissing. As long as we weren’t alone in my bedroom, he was okay with it. But, obviously, it wasn’t his favorite thing to watch.
“Hey, Mr. Collins,” Dylan said, showing his dazzling white teeth and using his charming tone that made every adult smile. Except my dad.
Dad was in his ‘at ease’ stance, feet shoulder width apart, arms folded, and chin tilted up. He had on his hardly worn button-down shirt and slacks. The blue paisley tie was tied like it had been an afterthought. Mom would fix it when she got the chance.
Dad exhaled loudly through his nose—his calming technique—then turned his attention to me. “Camille, your mom and I need you to watch Seth tonight.”
As if on cue, my little brother bounded into the room and put his hands on his hips. “Dad, I’m ten. I can take care of myself.” He had his blond hair in a short mohawk and wore his favorite Minecraft shirt that was developing a few holes since he wore it so often.
Dad broke out in a fit of laughter, the rumbly sound making Dylan and me laugh as well. With his habit of opening the door for anyone, Seth couldn’t stay home by himself, but Dad loved how grown up he tried to be.
“You all suck.” Seth glared, his blue eyes too adorable to take seriously.
Dad’s laughter cut off, and he slapped Seth upside the head. “Language.”
Seth rubbed the back of his head, the glare intensifying. “Camille says it all the time.”
I leaned my arms on the back of the couch and kneeled on the cushion, my bare knees sliding on the leather so I could face them. “That’s because I’m seventeen. I can get away with almost anything.”
Mom rounded the corner of the hall, dressed in her typical form-fitting black dress, her blue eyes intently on her smart phone, her manicured thumb moving across it at lightning speed. She put my friends and me to shame when it came to how often she used her phone and how fast she could go. She was a teenage girl in an adult’s body.
“Not true.” Mom didn’t take her eyes off the phone as she went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. She had a new case at her law firm that was occupying most of her time.
I held up a finger. “I said almost.”
Dad snatched the phone from Mom’s hand. She threw out her hands to retrieve it, but he just turned his back on her, a sly grin sliding onto his face. He loved to see Mom squirm.
“I was using that,” Mom said with the same tone she used on Seth when he was misbehaving.
“I know,” Dad said, dropping the phone into his jeans pocket. “But your clients will live until tomorrow. I promise.”
Mom dropped her hands with a sigh. She opened her mouth, her eyes ready to challenge him, but instead, she grabbed a lime Diet Coke from the fridge, popped it open, and downed it.
“That’s so impressive,” Dylan whispered next to me.
I elbowed him, and he grunted, rubbing his stomach where I hit him. Mom didn’t like anyone commenting on her “drinking problem,” as Dad called it.
Dad pointed his thick finger at us. “Dylan can’t be here.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I know.”
He told us that every time he and Mom left me in charge. He didn’t like the thought of Dylan and me being alone in the house without them there. I once tried to argue that we weren’t alone since Seth would be home. The intense glare that followed, with Dad's jaw pulled tight, and veins popping out basically everywhere, forced me to never bring that up again.
Dylan kissed my cheek, leaving behind some of my lip gloss I’d given him earlier. “I gotta get home anyway. Have fun tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Collins.” He jogged over to Seth and held his hand high in the air. Seth jumped up, slapping his hand against Dylan’s, smiling brightly the whole time.
Normally, I hated seeing him go, and I’d beg him to stay just a little while longer. But as I watched his backside as he left the house, nothing flitted inside me—good or bad. I shook the random thought from my head. I was probably just tired.
Dad took the opportunity to come up behind me and slap the back of my head—his favorite thing to do.
“Not in my house,” he mumbled.
“What? Looking at my boyfriend?”
He rubbed the top of my hair until it became a tangled mess. “Lusting after him.”
I threw my head back and laughed so hard, I snorted. It took me a few seconds to calm enough that I could talk. “Lusting? Seriously, Dad? Gah. Will you please not use that word around me?”
Dad folded his arms, emphasizing his muscles. “If you stop lusting, then I’ll have no reason to use it.”
Seth had his small fingers in his ears and his eyes closed as he hummed the Star Wars theme song.
“Maybe we could grab an early dinner as a family before Dad and I leave for the party,” Mom said, tossing her empty can in the recycle bin. She brushed back the blonde curls blocking part of her eye.
“Who has a party on a Thursday night anyway?” I asked.
Dad pointed his thumb at Mom. “Her weird clients.”
Mom slapped his arm, and he huffed, smiling the whole time. A smile finally broke out on her face as well. Until she noticed Dad’s tie, huffed, and stepped in to fix it.
When she finished, she went to Seth—still humming and plugging his ears—wrapped her arms around him, squeezed him tight, and pressed her lips close to his ear. “Food.”
Seth took his fingers out of his ears, but couldn’t lower his arms since Mom still had him in her grasp. He smiled wide, showing off his crooked front teeth. “Can we go to McDonald’s?”
Dad scrunched his face, disgust filling every wrinkle. “No.”
“You never let us go there,” Seth said, flapping his hands awkwardly. Mom wouldn’t release him, but he wasn’t trying to get away.
“Because I’m being a responsible parent,” Dad said. “I love you kids and care about your wellbeing.”
I hopped over the couch, landing on the tile, shuffling closer to them and swaying my hips like a little girl. “Is that why you’re going to take us to Chick-fil-A?”
Dad wiggled his eyebrows, his smile splitting wide. “You know it.”
“What’s the difference?” Seth asked, holding his palms up. “They both have chicken nuggets that are delicious.”
“Oh, Seth.” I squeezed his cheeks since Mom held him in place and he couldn’t do anything about it. “One day your taste buds will develop, and you’ll know the difference between gross and delicious.”
Mom kissed the side of Seth’s head, avoiding his Mohawk. “I personally love McDonald’s chicken nuggets. Maybe we could go there, and your father and sister can go to Chick-fil-A.”
Dad held up a hand. “We eat as a family.” When Seth pouted, Dad sighed. “They’re right next to each other. You two can bring your food over and eat with us.”
Seth tried to pump his fist, but couldn’t move. He grunted. “Mom, you’re making it hard for me to do anything.”
“I know,” she said, rocking him left and right.
Dad caught my eye, and I nodded. Seth saw our interaction and squealed, trying to wiggle away from Mom. “Stay away!”
With wicked grins, Dad and I swarmed in on Seth and tickled him while Mom held him in place. Seth squirmed and giggled, his eyes closing tight.
“Stop!”
We kept on tickling, getting his sides, armpits, and stomach. When I ventured down to his feet, he kicked out his legs, smacking his foot into my cheek. It hurt a little, but it was all too funny for me to care.
“Stop!” He laughed. “I’m going to pee my pants!”
Dad immediately stepped back and threw up his hands. “I don’t want to clean that up.”
Seth danced where he stood, so Mom let him go and pushed him toward the hall. He took off running, his socks sliding on the tile as he neared the bathroom. He already had his pants unzipped.
I leaned over laughing, clapping my hands. Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes. It didn’t take long until Mom and Dad were laughing uncontrollably like me. Seth came out of the bathroom glaring, but couldn’t help laughing when he got a good look at us.
He threw his arms wide. “Glad I can entertain you guys. Can we go now? I’m starving, and those chicken nuggets aren’t going to eat themselves.”
Dad patted Seth’s shoulder and turned him toward the front door, but then spotted Mom on her phone, probably emailing a client. He glanced at his jeans pocket, looking both annoyed and impressed that Mom had somehow wrangled it free. He opened the door, and they were about to step outside before I spoke up.
“I’m thinking Seth should probably put some shoes on,” I said, pointing at his socked feet. What would they do without me?
Dad looked down at them. “Huh.” He rubbed Seth’s shoulders. “Hurry before I beat you to the car.”
Seth plopped down in the entryway and scrambled to get his shoes on. Dad kept jerking like he was going to take off toward the car, causing Seth to whine. When he finished with the laces, Seth flew to his feet, past Dad, and out the door. Dad had to sprint to keep up.
“Mom, can I go to a concert with Dylan next weekend?” I asked. The best time to ask her for things was when she was preoccupied. Which was actually most of the time.
“Uh huh,” Mom said, her eyes glued to her phone. We walked out the front door, and I locked it since that would be another thing they’d forget to do.
I could tell her anything, and it wouldn’t register. “It’s one of those wild ones. Lots of drugs, clothes coming off and such.”
“That sounds fun.” Mom opened the passenger door of the car, her thumb moving across the screen of her phone.
“Also, I’m an assassin.”
Mom pressed send on her phone and smiled up at me. “That’s nice, dear.” She got into the car and closed the door.
With a sigh, I joined my crazy family in the car and wished for once that Mom would pay attention to us during dinner. But I never liked to get my hopes up.
Sara Jo Cluff, Daphne's Questionable Bet
