Daphne's Questionable Bet, page 5
“Why would she have a picture of him?” I asked.
Rolling her eyes, Veronica picked up her phone and started scrolling through it. “There’s this thing called Instagram. It’s where people post pictures of themselves. You should look into it.”
I stuck out my tongue at her. “I have an Instagram account.”
“That you use solely for your business,” Taylor said. “I mean, your handbags are amazing, don’t get me wrong.” She reached over and squeezed my cheeks together. “But sometimes we wanna see this cute face of yours.”
I slapped her hand away, laughing.
Veronica turned her phone to Mom, and Mom grinned ear to ear. “Totally Daphne hot.”
“Let me see,” I said, reaching forward.
Veronica snatched the phone away from me. “But this is so much more fun.”
I turned to Taylor, but she just shrugged and stuffed her face with a taco.
“Is he at least in our grade?” I asked.
Veronica popped a diced tomato into her mouth. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
I could straight out ask if it was Weston, but what if I jinxed it? Or what if he wasn’t interested in me and then I’d be all sad, and I’d have to go switch my Care Bear shirt to Grumpy.
I casually picked up my taco. “Whatever. I don’t care.”
“Uh-huh,” Veronica said.
I needed to change the subject before I got too caught up in all things Weston. I mean, I’d only known the guy for a few hours. I looked at Veronica. “What do you think of Bentley Anderson?”
“So hot,” Taylor said, pointing her taco at me.
Veronica nodded. “I agree.” She scrolled through her phone and showed Mom his picture. “He’s on the dive and swim teams, plus plays water polo. Loves being in the water. Totally fit.”
“Friendly,” Taylor put in. “Nice to everyone, including people he shouldn’t be nice to.”
Mom sat back in her seat. “Why can’t guys like that be on the dating sites I use? Except, you know, twenty years older.” There was a weird inflection on the last few words.
“Don’t give up, Mrs. Richards,” Taylor said with her husky voice. “My grandma found love on one of those sites. I’ve never seen her so happy.”
Mom rubbed her forehead. “Great. So, I need to wait about thirty years to find someone.”
“You don’t need a man,” Veronica said. She motioned to Mom. “Look at you. You’re thriving on your own.”
Mom twirled her wedding ring that she kept on a necklace. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want companionship. I mean, I like making out as much as the next girl.”
“Mom!”
She shrugged. “What? Kissing is fun. You can’t deny that.”
She was right, but I really didn’t like thinking about my mom making out. Especially with someone who wasn’t Dad. Honestly, I’d give anything to see my parents making out again. It meant Dad would be alive.
Taylor balled up the foil wrapper from her taco. “Oh! I could set you up with my oldest brother. He just turned thirty-four, so, like, close-ish to your age, Mrs. Richards.” She batted her eyelashes at me. “Then, we could forever be related.”
Taylor had six older brothers who constantly teased her, hence her need to always dress in skirts that were usually a hair too short. She loved to drive them crazy.
“Wait,” Taylor said. “That would make Mrs. Richards my sister-in-law.” She grinned wildly at me. “You could be my niece!”
“Yeah, so not happening,” I said. How weird would that be?
Veronica’s eyes lit up. “We’re going to find you a man, Mrs. Richards. Show me what sites you use.”
Mom slipped her phone out of her back pocket and opened an app. “This is my favorite to use. I tried a bunch of others, and they just didn’t work out.”
Veronica and Taylor crowded around Mom, looking at the screen.
Taylor pointed at the phone. “Oh, what about that guy? He’s got a mysterious vibe.”
Both Mom and I laughed at the same time. She found out the hard way that those guys were the worst. Mystery was fine until you wanted an open and honest relationship. Then their secrets would come pouring out, and she’d find out why they were still single.
“Not too mysterious,” Mom said.
Taylor and Veronica shared a funny look, but they both shrugged and went back to perusing the pictures.
My phone pinged. I glanced down to see I had new followers. Bentley, Sebastian, Dax, and Zander. I blushed when I saw Weston’s follow. It wasn’t like it meant anything. But why was I all of the sudden sweating? Maybe it was the tacos. There had been some peppers in them.
Or it could be the fact that Weston was undeniably hot.
With all the new followers, maybe Taylor and Veronica were right, and I needed to post pictures of my life, not just the bags I made.
Bentley had tagged me in a photo. Apparently, he’d snapped a picture of me in class, laughing at something Weston had said. Below it was the caption, Welcome back to Cali, Daphne! We need a tetherball rematch. Maybe I’ll let you win this time!
I quickly responded. How about a dance-off?
Bentley’s reply came seconds later. I have two left feet.
Me: So do I. It’ll be an even match.
Bentley: Maybe we just need to hang out and catch up. :)
Me: I have been wanting to do a bonfire at the beach.
Bentley: It’s January!
Me: That’s what onesies are for.
Bentley: I do look good in a onesie.
I was smiling big until I saw that Sierra ‘liked’ all the posts. Then she commented. This sounds like so much fun! I’ll put something together.
I wanted to reply, You weren’t invited, but Bentley had to say, YES!! Let’s get as many people as we can!
“Daphne?”
I looked up to see Mom staring at me. Taylor and Veronica had both moved to the couch, still scrolling through Mom’s phone.
“What’s going on?” Mom asked.
I debated whether to mention anything to her, seeing as it would probably bring up a lot of bad memories, but Mom and I had made a pact to always tell each other everything after Dad died. It helped to talk through our emotions instead of leaving them bottled up.
“Sierra Winters,” I said, watching her face.
Anger filled her eyes as her hand wrapped tightly around her napkin, balling it up. “Did she do something to you?”
“No. Not really. I think she’s not really happy with me.”
My phone pinged with a private message from Sierra. I opened it and read it to myself. I think we should make a little wager.
“What does she have in mind?” Mom asked from over my shoulder.
I jumped a little in my seat. “Yeesh. Don’t creep up on a girl like that.”
I typed my response: What do you have in mind?
Mom rubbed my shoulders, her voice coming out soft. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to do it. This is her mother talking through her.”
Sierra: Bentley Anderson.
Mom’s hands froze on my shoulders as she leaned down to look at the screen. “What does she mean by that?”
Me: ???
Sierra: We have a few months until prom, and I know one of us could score a date with him.
“He’s that hot guy Veronica showed me a picture of, right?” Mom asked. “The diver?”
“That would be the one,” I said.
Mom took a seat in a chair next to me. “Would you even want to go to prom with Bentley?”
“He’d be a great date. He’s a really nice guy, and I’m sure we’d have fun together.”
Sierra: Whoever can get him to ask them to prom is the winner. But HE has to be the one to ask.
I looked over at Mom. “What do you think?”
She sighed. “I think Kimber’s the one behind it. She probably wants to prove that her daughter is better than mine.”
“Uh, Mrs. Richards,” Veronica said from the couch, “you just got a private message from someone named Kimber.”
Mom and I exchanged a glance before we hurried over to the couch. Mom snatched the phone from Veronica and read the message out loud. I’ll understand if Daphne doesn’t want to take the bet.
“What bet?” Taylor and Veronica asked at the same time.
“Shhh!” I turned to Mom. “Keep reading.”
Kimber: We both know that Sierra is the most polished of the two and has already established a relationship with Bentley. Daphne would be the underdog, and of course, you wouldn’t want her to be humiliated.
Mom’s eyes turned to ice. “Underdog? Please. You’re way better looking than Sierra. Bentley would be lucky to go to prom with you.”
“What is—” Taylor started.
Mom held up a hand to cut her off, keeping her eyes on me. “I’m positive we can get Bentley to ask you.” Her eyes softened. “Only if you want to, of course.”
She knew I wouldn’t turn down a challenge. I couldn’t. My DNA wasn’t wired with the ability. I’d gotten that from her.
With a grin, I typed my response to Sierra. Deal.
Chapter Nine
Mom, Veronica, and Taylor tried to pick out my outfit for the next morning, but I wouldn’t let them. If I was going to get Bentley Anderson to ask me to prom, it was going to be the real me, not some fake version. It wouldn’t feel like a victory that way.
Bentley’s dad, Whitaker Anderson, was on the city council. Their family was Yorba Linda’s version of the Kennedys. Which made Sierra tough competition, since she was the junior class president and star of the girls’ basketball team.
But I had sweet dance moves.
I slipped into my jeans and then buckled my Captain America belt. I always liked the sound it made, like I was securing myself in place, protected from any bad vibes out there in the world.
My pink Cherry Coke sweatshirt rested on the back of the chair in front of my desk. I snatched it up, about to put it on, only to notice the bottom half had been cut off. Rushing over to the full-length mirror on my closet door, I quickly put it on, then grabbed the end of my sweater and examined it. The cut was perfect, like it had been done with care. The sweatshirt stopped at the top of my jeans, showing off my belt. That part I liked.
Then I raised my arms, and my stomach was exposed. Nope. Not happening.
I called Veronica, putting her on speakerphone while I rummaged my closet for a plain white tee. I’d organized the shirts hanging in my closet by brand in alphabetical order: Captain America, Care Bears, Cherry Coke, ending with plain tees needed for boring reasons.
“I’m just about to leave,” Veronica said as soon as she answered. “Javy overslept. I’ll be there in about ten.”
“Why is my sweatshirt cut?” I ripped it off, snatched a white tee from a hanger, put it on, then put the sweatshirt back on.
“It’s called fashion,” Veronica said. “Don’t freak out.”
“You ruined my sweatshirt.” I examined myself in the mirror again, happy when my white shirt showed when I lifted my arms, not my stomach.
“I improved it. You’ll thank me later.”
“Whatever, I took care of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“See you soon!” I hung up the phone and hurried down the hall to catch breakfast.
Mom smiled wide when I came into the kitchen. “Morning! Have a seat. I made breakfast.” She was dressed for the day, floral blouse loosely tucked into her white cropped jeans. As soon as I sat down, she hurried toward me, her pale pink high heels clinking on the wood floor. She set a couple of chocolate chip waffles in front of me, piled high with whipped cream.
I arched an eyebrow at her as I hesitantly grabbed the fork next to the plate. “What did you do?”
Mom sat down in the chair next to me, her smile so overly done. “I didn’t do anything. I just wanted to make sure you had a good start to your morning. We need you happy if you plan to win Berkeley’s heart.”
“Bentley.”
Mom snapped her fingers. “Right. Bentley.”
I used my fork to cut a piece of the waffle. “And I don’t want to win his heart. Just want him to ask me to prom.”
Remembering I needed to up my social media game, I snapped a picture of me taking my first bite of waffle, then posted it.
Mom checked her watch. “Hurry and eat. Veronica will be here soon.” She shuffled back into the kitchen and went to cleaning everything up.
She must have really wanted me to win the bet to wake up early and make me a big breakfast. But as the gooey chocolate, fluffy waffles, and whipped cream melted in my mouth, I didn’t mind.
The dishes clanked around in the sink as Mom cleaned them. “Oh, and I won’t be home for dinner tonight. I can leave you some money, or maybe you could go over to Veronica’s house. I know you love her mom’s cooking.”
“I’ll ask her at school.” I quickly stuffed another bite in my mouth. I just needed a Cherry Coke to top it off, and I’d be the happiest girl in the world.
As if the heavens were answering my prayers, Mom set a bottle of Cherry Coke in front of me.
“Okay, what’s going on?” Grabbing the Cherry Coke, I sat back in my chair. “This is more than just the Bentley bet.”
Mom nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. “I have a date tonight.”
I’d twisted the lid off and paused with the bottle on my lips. “You’ve gone on dates before.”
It had been weird at first, but I’d gotten used to it. Maybe because it never worked out in the end.
“I know.” She pulled out her phone from her back pocket and grinned at the screen. “We’ve actually been talking for a few months. An old high school friend of mine introduced us via text. But with the living in different states, nothing happened. Plus, he’s … different … than most guys I date.” She was rambling. “He texted last night when Veronica and Taylor had my phone and asked if we could finally meet. I was hesitant, but the girls talked me into it. He’s a really great guy.”
I took a swig of my drink. “These all sound like good things.”
“His name is Cody, and he’s a mortgage broker.” Mom continued to smile at the screen as her fingers flew across the phone, probably writing a message to this Cody guy.
“Again, good things. I mean, if you hit it off, you hit it off. Might as well find out if he’s a creeper in real life right away so you won’t waste any more time on the guy.”
Mom wiped above her lip and stepped away from me. “He’s just a few years younger than me. Younger than you’re probably used to, since I mostly stick to guys my age.”
I held the Cherry Coke close to my chest. “How much younger?”
“Just a few years.”
“Dating a guy who’s thirty-four or thirty-five isn’t that big of a deal.”
“It’s not.” She coughed, and her next words came out so low and mumbled, it took me a second to process them. “Just take another ten years off that.”
As I let it sink in, I drank my soda, letting the bubbly goodness try and drown my confusion. I just kept drinking, swallowing, gulping, like I’d just spent the day in the Sahara Desert with no water in sight.
“Daphne?” Mom sounded concerned.
I held up a finger, downing my drink.
“It’s just a date. It might not even work out. And like you said, he could be a creeper, so he could be out of the picture in no time.”
That was definitely not reassuring. If he really was a creeper, she could also be out of the picture soon. I’d be an orphan. Sentenced to live a parentless life without anyone to introduce me to weird things from the nineties.
But maybe that meant I could travel the world with Grams and Gramps. Go to Italy. Try gelato. Meet some hunky guy on a gondola and have a whirlwind romance.
The drink ran out, so I set the bottle back on the table and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
Mom knelt in front of me. “Talk to me.”
“He’s twenty-five?”
“Twenty-four.”
“You’re thirty-eight.”
Mom pinched her lips. “Yes, I’m aware.”
“That’s a fourteen-year age difference.”
Mom rubbed her forehead, the irritation setting in. “Again, I’m aware.”
I pushed my finger into my chest. “That’s a couple of years shy of the difference between you and ME!”
Sighing, she stood back up. “One date.”
“You guys weren’t even born in the same decade. I mean, that’s like the *NSYNC era versus the One Direction era.”
“Bye, Bye, Bye” came into my mind, which was exactly what I wanted to say to this conversation.
“I was actually a Backstreet Boys fan. Team A.J.” She winked at me. “Kind of liked the bad boy vibe, you know?”
I grimaced. Then a thought crossed my mind. “Wait, Veronica and Taylor talked you into it?” What on earth were they thinking? They were supposed to pick for my mom, not them.
“Yep. So, get mad at them.”
A horn blared outside.
“Veronica’s here.” Mom leaned down and quickly kissed my cheek. “Have a good day at school, sweetie.”
“Not sure if that’s possible,” I mumbled.
I got up with a little too much force, making my chair slide out behind me, skidding across the wood floor and falling on its back. I probably should have put it back in place, but with all the weirdness dancing inside me, I rushed over to the front door and plucked my backpack from the hook, slamming the door behind me.
Chapter Ten
“You told my mom to date a twenty-four-year-old guy?” I asked Veronica as soon as I slid into the passenger seat.
She stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. “Did the waffles and Cherry Coke not do the trick?”
I glanced in the backseat and waved at Javier, but he was intent on his phone, earbuds stuffed in his ears, not paying even the slightest bit of attention.
A drawing of a dragon on his arm caught my eye. Reaching back, I took his arm, looking over the image. “Did you do this, Javy?”
Popping out an earbud, he grinned at me. “Yep. Just a prototype. One day I’ll get the real thing tattooed on.”
