Daphne's Questionable Bet, page 3
I rubbed my hands together. “Oh, a love triangle! Love that trope.” I scrunched my face, the giddiness falling away. “Wait, Dad didn’t like, kiss her or anything, did he?”
Mom smiled sheepishly, her face apologetic.
I threw my hands up and moved to stand. “I’m out.”
She yanked me down before I could get too far. “It was only a couple of times.”
“Not making this better.”
“We ended up in this huge war between the two of us. Who could win your dad.”
Thanks to Mom constantly playing nineties music around me, “The Boy Is Mine” by Brandy and Monica intruded my thoughts, adding to the drama.
I folded my arms. “You didn’t marry Dad out of spite, did you?”
Mom reached forward, gently placing her hand on my arm, loosening my tight muscles. “Of course not. I love your dad more than anything. I knew from the moment we met that he was the one for me.”
“He always said he felt the same way about you. Sparks flying and everything. Why would he give Kimber a chance?”
Mom tilted her head to the side, her eyebrows quirked. “He was fifteen and had two girls fighting over him. What guy wouldn’t love that?”
“True. Gross, but true.”
“What Dad and Kimber had was superficial. It never really went anywhere.” She sighed, the gooey kind. “What we had, though, was special. We ended up falling in love, and Kimber got left in the wind. She’s hated me ever since.”
I rested my arm on the back of the couch. “I can see why she would hate you, but why do you hate her? You won.”
“She wouldn’t give up. Even after Dad told her that he loved me. She did everything she could to break us up. Spread rumors. Made up stories about us spending the night at each other’s house and telling our parents about it in hopes they’d break us apart.” She fidgeted in her seat like she was reliving the event. “We even made this stupid bet on who could win Prom Queen. She ended up winning, with your dad as Prom King. Everyone loved that man.”
“How did I not know this?”
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “We don’t like bringing it up. Dad always felt bad about giving Kimber the time of day, and I hated to be reminded that he did.”
The doorbell rang, and Mom and I exchanged a glance.
“Do you think it’s them?” I asked.
Mom shook her head. “I doubt it. My parents really should have installed a camera doorbell system.”
The person knocked, quick and eager.
Hopping up from the couch, I tiptoed over to the door. “Luckily, there’s this thing call a peephole. Let’s see who’s on the other side!” I peered through the hole, a grin breaking out on my face. “No. Freaking. Way!”
Suddenly, “Best Day of My Life” by the American Authors blared in my head, reflecting my mood.
I threw open the door and yelled, “Tay-Tay!” before jumping up and down, screaming.
My friend, Taylor, stood on the other side, doing the same. A guy stood behind her, fingers jammed into his ears, his face scrunched like he was in pain.
Taylor’s wavy brown hair bounced while her hazel eyes lit up in excitement. She was wearing black booties, a maroon velvet skirt, and her favorite black leather jacket. Just like I remembered from her bazillion Instagram posts. The next thing I knew, her arms were around my neck, squeezing me fiercely. She smelled strongly of a musky perfume, matching her sultry personality.
When she finally pulled back, she squealed. “You’re really here!” Her tone was throaty and scratchy, but in a sexy way.
“I told you I was coming,” I said, smiling widely.
She took my hands in hers. “I know. But just to see you in the flesh is amazing!”
The guy cleared his throat, and Taylor dropped my hands. She looked over her shoulder at him. “This is my boyfriend, Zander.”
Zander had his brown hair slicked to the side, his narrow eyes somehow mixed with amusement and angst at the same time. His baby blue shirt was buttoned all the way to the top, the short sleeves rolled up a few times. Skinny slacks and loafers topped off his look. He reached a thin hand out to me. “Nice to finally meet you in person.” He pointed at Taylor. “She never shuts up about you.”
“We need to celebrate!” Taylor said. “Let’s go do something.”
Mom came up next to me and put an arm around my shoulder. “It’s so good to see you, Taylor.”
“You, too, Mrs. Richards!” Taylor flinched, the smile falling from her face as she balled her hands into fists and held them in front of her chin. “Is it still Mrs. or did I totally screw that up?”
Mom chuckled. “Mrs. is perfect.” She brushed some hair from my eyes. “How about you girls do something tomorrow after school?” She turned her smile to Taylor. “In fact, why don’t you and Veronica come over for dinner? We’ll order take-out and catch up.”
Taylor nodded. “That’s right. I forgot. Sundays are for family and church. Tomorrow will be great.” She gave me a quick hug. “It’s seriously so good to see you. I’ll be there tomorrow morning at the entrance so you can have Veronica and me at your side.”
“Thanks, that means a lot,” I said.
Starting new situations sometimes gave me anxiety, and I loved that my friends knew that and always kept it in mind. It might help me survive the day.
Chapter Five
Veronica rolled into the parking lot, Post Malone blaring from the speakers in her Toyota Prius and vibrating the seat beneath me. I bounced along with the music, the top half of my body swaying, my arms swinging back and forth in the air.
When she pulled into a spot, I reluctantly quit dancing and unbuckled my seatbelt. “How did you score this car again?”
Veronica turned off the engine. “Good grades.” She shrugged. “Plus, Mom feels bad about him leaving.” She scoffed. “Like a car’s going to fill the void.”
I rubbed my hand along the center console. “Certainly helps.”
Her phone chimed, so she reached into her bag and pulled it out. As she shook her head, her fingers flew across the phone. “Seriously, Javy is so lucky to have me.”
Javier was Veronica’s fourteen-year-old brother. The kid was always forgetting everything, like his lunch or homework. Since their dad left, their mom had been working a ton, mostly to keep herself distracted. But that left Veronica in charge of her brother and ten-year-old sister, Luciana.
“I put your homework in the bag, dorkface,” Veronica muttered as she typed. “Just like I told you when I dropped you off at school.” She stuffed her phone back in her bag. “You’re so lucky you don’t have siblings.”
“Come on, you know you love them.”
She smiled. “Of course, I do. They just drive me crazy at times.” Glancing in the rearview mirror, she fixed her bangs. “I made a mistake, didn’t I? Why did I go with bangs?”
I reached over and yanked her hand down from her forehead. “You look amazing.”
A huge grin burst across her face. “Ready for this?”
I stared out the window at the high school. I hadn’t really been nervous until this moment. “Sure?”
Opening the door, she glared at me. “Don’t do this to yourself.”
“Do what?” I hopped out of the car and shut the door.
Veronica rested her clasped hands on the top of the car, staring at me. “Psych yourself out. It’s going to be fine. You have me, Taylor, and Zander. Not to mention so many people we went to elementary school with.”
Adjusting the strap of my backpack, I hurried around the car until I was at her side, linking my arm through hers. “A lot has changed since then. I’ve changed. They’ve changed.”
“Your endless worry certainly hasn’t.”
I pushed my arm into hers, making her grin. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
She motioned to my shirt. “Besides, I’ll be with you all day via tee.”
She’d gotten me a T-shirt that had two Care Bears roller skating and the phrase, Rollin’ with my homie on it.
“And I wore my Wonder Woman belt in your honor,” Veronica said. I’d given it to her for her last birthday. She reached up and swept back some of my hair that had fallen over my eyes. “Don’t cover up those green beauties.”
I would have smiled, but all I could think about was all the people inside the school, swarming around, talking, and judging everyone around them. I didn’t want to be on the end of their judging.
She tried to pull me away from the car, but my feet were cemented to the ground. Everything around me shut off, the world suddenly zooming in on me. Pain radiated through my chest, squeezing tight. My breathing quickened, chest heaving in and out with the movement.
Veronica’s calm face appeared before me as she placed her hands on my cheeks. “Breathe, Daphne. In and out.”
Each breath was a rapid fire, like an oxygen machine gun with unlimited ammo.
“In,” Veronica sweetly said.
Fire practically seared my lungs as I breathed in.
“Hold.”
Closing my eyes, I held my breath, trying to picture my happy place.
“Out.”
Cherry Coke. Watermelon Sour Patch Kids. Mom. Veronica. Taylor.
“In and hold.”
Kittens. Puzzles. Captain America.
“Out.”
Grams and Gramps.
“In and hold.”
Dad, taking me to a Kelly Clarkson concert, singing along to the songs louder than me and buying himself a shirt that was a smidge too tight. Mom tried to throw away the shirt, but Dad dug it out of the trash, opting to wear it when he did chores around the house.
“Out.”
Slowly, my breathing evened, falling into rhythm at a reasonable pace. I opened my eyes just in time to see Veronica throw her arms around me, holding me close.
“I promise it’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “Shut out the noise.” With a rub of my back, she pulled away. “We’ve got this.”
I nodded, a smile slowly creeping onto my face. “We’ve got this.”
Taking my hand, she gently tugged me toward the school, steering me between the cars. Shut out the noise. Not just the world around me, but everything attacking my brain, trying to convince it of things that weren’t true.
“Hey, Veronica!” a bouncing voice said from behind us.
We stopped and spun around to see a guy jogging toward us in all his gorgeous glory. “Dibs” by Kelsea Ballerini played in my mind, cranked up to ten, practically vibrating every inch of me. The whole perfect cuteness of the song reflected everything swarming inside me.
“Did you finish our math …” The guy trailed off when his eyes landed on me. His mouth twisted into a crooked smile, his nose inching up at the movement. “Hey.”
Heat trickled up my neck to my cheeks. I wanted to say hi, but my mouth went dry. Out in the sun, his brown hair had the slightest tint of red. Freckles canvased his face like a priceless painting. My fingers twitched, wanting to brush along his cheeks.
Veronica elbowed me, which made me pause my singing. Wait. I’d been singing out loud?
“Heeeyyyy.” My voice cracked, going up a few octaves.
Veronica sighed next to me. She linked her arm through mine. “Weston, this is my best friend, Daphne. She just moved here from Utah.”
He ran his trembling fingers through his hair, his shirt riding up at the movement, showing off a retro Captain America belt. “Cool.” At the crack of his voice, I suddenly felt better for my blunder.
“I have one, too!” I yelled way too loud, pointing at his waist.
Veronica cringed next to me, shrinking into herself and letting go of my arm.
His gaze slid down to his belt. “A Cap belt?”
I lifted my shirt just high enough to show it off. Mine had the shield repeated all the way around and on the buckle. “Got it for my sixteenth birthday!”
“Awesome!” Weston’s toothy grin was contagious.
I tucked the bottom of my shirt into the front of my jeans, so the belt could be seen all day. “I tried to wear it like this, but Veronica said I couldn’t because it didn’t match with my shirt.”
“It definitely looks better with it showing,” Weston said.
I slapped Veronica’s arm. “See!”
“Well,” Veronica said, “as fun as this is, we need to get Daphne to the front office.” She took my hand. “Weston, I can meet you in the library at break to go over our math homework.”
His eyes lingered on mine, his one-sided grin adorable. “Sounds good.”
Veronica tugged on my hand, trying to get me to move, but I wanted to stare at Weston a little while longer. She finally yanked me so hard, I stumbled toward her, tripping over my own foot and falling toward the ground. Placing my hand out, I slammed into the asphalt. Searing pain shot through my wrist and jolted up my arm.
I scrambled to my feet, straightening out my shirt and shaking out my wrist. “I’m fine. Totally fine.”
Veronica linked her arm through mine and moved toward the school. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine.” My voice cracked, so I cleared my throat. “He’s not staring, is he?”
Veronica looked over her shoulder and opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. “Never mind. Don’t tell me. I’m going to pretend that never happened.”
I walked into the school without looking back, “Dibs” starting back up in my mind.
Chapter Six
Veronica and Taylor helped me figure out a schedule that even if I didn’t have a class with one of them, there was someone to walk me between classes. They didn’t want me to have a second alone where I could stop and analyze everything I’d said that day and break it down on the awkward scale. Followed by me beating myself for saying it.
Zander had English with me, so we left the group at lunch and made our way to the English building toward the back of the school.
I glanced up at the blue sky as we wound through the sea of students. “This is amazing. Being outside as I walk to class.”
Zander tugged on the front of his floral tee, so it wasn’t so tight against his neck. “What do you mean?”
“In Utah, the schools are indoors. Like, I could go the whole day without stepping outside if I didn’t want to.” I rolled my eyes. “Except for the times my P.E. teacher made us go outside.”
“That’s crazy.” Zander stepped closer to me as a girl shoved past him. “What else was different?”
I held up a finger. “We had lockers. Like with combinations and decorations inside and everything.”
Zander opened the door to the building. “Wow.”
I shuffled in, doing a little salsa move before continuing my walk down the hall.
“Is this the dancing Taylor warned me about?” Zander asked.
“Better get used to it.”
Zander stopped in front of the classroom and swept out his arm. “Welcome to Mr. Buckley’s class. You’re going to either love or hate him.”
I shook my fists in the air. “Yay!” One whiff when I walked in the door, and I placed a hand to my nose. “Why does it smell like my Grams’ pickle pasta salad in here?”
A deep chuckle sounded behind me, definitely too deep to belong to Zander. “Mr. Buckley loves his pickle juice.”
Pickle juice? Um, eww!
When I turned around, the tall guy stopped laughing, his blue eyes wide with shock. “Daphne?”
I took the beefy guy in, digging the flannel shirt and ripped jeans. He’d grown a lot since elementary school. He had sun-kissed skin and wavy black hair. “Bentley Anderson.”
With a wide grin, he pulled me in for a hug. “My old tetherball rival.”
We rocked back and forth before he let me go. I straightened out my shirt. “Pretty sure creaming me every time doesn’t make me a rival. Makes me a guinea pig.”
He ran his fingers through his hair, sweeping it away from his humored eyes. “You were so bad.”
“You were like a head taller than me! You hit the ball so high, I couldn’t reach it.”
“What’s with the traffic jam?” Sierra’s voice came from behind Bentley. He scooched over so I could see her. She was dressed all in black except for her red lipstick and the red flannel tied around her waist. The smile on her face faltered when she saw me standing there.
I wasn’t sure where we stood. Our moms hated each other, but that didn’t mean we had to. I wondered if her mom told her about what happened in high school. Her thick lips twitched in annoyance, the irritation reaching up to her eyes. Yep. Her mom told her, and she was not happy about it.
I’d raised my hand to wave at her, but I slowly lowered it to my side as I drowned in the awkward silence.
“Where’s a red flag when you need one?” I mumbled under my breath.
“What?” Zander asked, his eyebrows pinched in confusion.
“The flag boaters use to signal someone is in the water,” I said.
They all stared at me, not sure what I was talking about.
“Cuz, I’m drowning, and I need to be rescued here.” When the confusion didn’t leave their faces, I waved my hand. “Never mind.”
“I’m a terrible water skier.” Weston’s shaky voice came from behind Sierra and Bentley.
I grinned at him. “Same. Coordination and balance? My body doesn’t know those two words.” At least someone followed my random train of thought. Veronica was the only one who was really good at it.
The bell rang overhead, but none of us moved. I kept glancing at Weston, noticing him looking at me. Then I realized they were all staring at me. It was suddenly hot in the room, and I needed a fan. Tiny spots appeared in my vision, and, oh boy, was I dizzy.
There were some papers sitting on the desk next to me, so I snatched them up and used them to fan myself. Sweat beaded on my forehead and the back of my neck. Oh, and the small of my back. Pretty soon, it would be cascading down my body like a river.
“That’s my assignment,” a guy sitting at the desk said.
“What?” I stopped fanning myself long enough to look at the papers. “Oh, sorry.” I handed them back.
