The Boyfriend Bet (Boyfriend Chronicles #2) (18 page)

“Right. We’ll discuss this when you come home.”
Click
. He hung up on me.

“So now your dad loves me, too,” Zoe muttered.

“At least we know my grandpa won’t have a problem with you.” I remembered something from earlier in the day. “Do you think your grandma is coming to dinner at my house Sunday?”

“If she said it, it’s true.” Zoe turned around, with an evil expression on her face. “You should record the whole thing on your phone so I can see how it turns out.”

Right. “No deal. If I have to suffer through dinner, you’re coming, too.”

“Really?”

Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn.
How did I keep screwing this up? How had I managed to invite Zoe to meet my parents? Apparently I was an idiot. I swear some higher power was messing with my head.

“No. Just joking. You’re swollen nose gives you a pass.”

“Oh.” The sparkle left her eyes. She turned back around toward the TV.

And now I felt like a mean idiot. I needed to come up with a consolation prize to take her mind off my screw-up. “Want to go to the movies tomorrow, since we aren’t going to the dance?”

“Maybe.” She grabbed the remote and flipped channels until she landed on a zombie movie.

What did that mean? Was she imagining I was one of the zombies again, like at the arcade?

She put her hands in front of her eyes. “Tell me when the gross part is over.”

“I didn’t think you had a problem with Zombies dying.”

“This is different. The video game is a cartoon. Cartoon brains, not gross. Special effects brains exploding, gross. I mean, just because some guy can make it look like the zombies guts are spilling all over the floor, doesn’t mean I want to watch it.”

“Then you probably shouldn’t look now.” One of the survivors hacked at the zombie with a tire iron. Not the best weapon of choice in a zombie war. “You can look now.”

She peeked between her fingers like a little kid.

“Wuss.”

“Hey.” She elbowed me in the ribs. “No teasing the injured.”

I wrapped my arms around her waist, blocking her from throwing any more elbows. She didn’t even pretend to put up a fight.

“You’re giving up awful easy.”

She wiggled around a little bit until I could see her face. “I’m biding my time and plotting a sneak attack.”

Right. “Let me know how that goes.”

“Just wait.” She faced the TV again. “You won’t even see it coming.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Zoe

Twenty-four hours later, greenish yellow circles ringed my eyes. Not a flattering color for me. And my head ached enough that I was switching off between Tylenol and ibuprofen.

Delia sat across from me on my bed opening a bag of Hershey’s kisses. She’d come over to assess the damage. “It’s not that bad. I bet I could cover it with makeup. You could still go to the dance.”

Should I tell Delia about Grant offering to take me to the Christmas dance when Delia hadn’t been asked to this one? “If this annoys you, tell me to shut up.”

“No problem.” She unwrapped a kiss and popped one in her mouth.

“Grant said he’d take me to the Christmas dance instead.”

She unwrapped two more kisses and shoved both of them in her mouth while she stared at the ceiling. Once she’d finished all three kisses, she unwrapped another. “He really came through for you in all this, didn’t he? And yes there is a mild tone of irritation underlying that statement.”

“I’m sorry for you, but happy for me. Even though Grant keeps yelling that he doesn’t want a girlfriend, he stood by me, rather than worrying about his car.”

“That’s pretty awesome.” Delia picked at a thread on my quilt. “Do you think Jack hit the car on purpose?”

“No. He griped about how much his insurance cost before the accident. I bet it goes way up after this.”

“That’s true,” she said. “And it’s not like he hit a normal car. Repairing the bumper on Grant’s shiny little sports car won’t be cheap.”

“I kind of feel sorry for him.”

My cell rang. Caller ID told me it was Grant. “Hey, Grant. What’s up?”

“We may not be able to do the movies tonight.”

Not what I wanted to hear. “Why not?”

“When my mom heard about the change in plans, she freaked out and said I had to attend the dance to pass the crown.”

“If your mom likes Lena so much, let her go pass the stupid crown.”

He laughed. “I suggested that. It didn’t go over well.”

“Where does that leave us?”

“I think I have to put in an appearance at the dance, but I don’t have to stay.”

“Is there a plan B? Because plan A sucks.”

“You could come with me.”

Could I go the way I looked? I wasn’t sure. “My face…I have lemon lime colored rings around both my eyes.”

“People will find out about the accident Monday, anyway. Does it matter if they see you now?”

“What’s going on?” Delia asked.

I filled her in. “What do you think? Should I go?”

Delia walked toward my closet and pulled out the strapless black and white dress she’d made for me. “In this dress, people won’t be focusing on your face.”

I wasn’t so sure. “Okay, Grant. Delia will help me with makeup and hair. I’ll call you back with the results.”

Thirty minutes later, I looked into the mirror and sighed. “From my chin down I rock.” The green yellow rings around my eyes stood out underneath the makeup and my nose was lumpy and swollen.

“Your face isn’t that bad,” Delia said. Her tone was not convincing.

“Don’t start lying to me now. I rely on your painfully honest opinion.”

“Sorry. You must look better now than when Grant saw you right after the accident. To him this will be an improvement.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“What? You said be honest.”

I called Grant and gave him the news. “You’re going solo.” He probably wouldn’t be that way for long. “And since this was supposed to be our date, could you try not to pick up a girl while you’re there?”

He laughed, but I wasn’t kidding.

“I’ll go to the dance, leave as soon as possible, and then I’ll come see you. Deal?”

“Deal.” I ended the call and flopped down on my bed. “I hate this.”

“Everything will be fine. Since you aren’t going out, let’s practice making fancy cupcakes. When Grant comes over, I’ll bail.”

“Sounds good.”

…

We baked a batch of vanilla cupcakes and then experimented with different colors of icing.

I made a giant pink flower on top of one cupcake. “What do you think?”

“I think it needs a little more sparkle.” She grabbed the bottle of hot pink sugar crystals and sprinkled them on the flower.

Now it looked more like something from one of the high end bakeries. “Nice. I believe we have our contest entry. Let’s make a dozen of them, and arrange them like a bouquet on green tissue paper. We’ll call our entry, A dozen roses, aka I’m-sorry-I-was-an-idiot, flowers.”

Delia laughed. “I love it.”

A few hours later when we were watching television, my phone buzzed. I grabbed it expecting to find a text from Grant. A photo of Grant kissing Lena on the dance floor smacked me in the face. Tears filled my eyes. How could he do that to me? I’d trusted him. “That son of a bitch.”

“What?” Delia checked the phone. “Oh my God. I can’t believe he’d do that.”

I tossed my phone on the couch and focused on being angry. Angry was easier than sad. It took less of a toll.

Delia grabbed the phone and flipped through a few screens. “The picture came from a blocked number. I bet it’s one of Lena’s friends.”

I took a step toward the shotguns hanging on the wall. In a perfect world, you’d be allowed to shoot people who cheated on you. And technically, I could shoot Grant, but the whole going to prison thing didn’t sound like a good idea.

“Here.” Delia handed me a throw pillow. “Go beat the crap out of the kitchen table.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Pillow therapy is the reason I’ve never been to jail. Trust me.”

I stalked into the kitchen, cleared off the kitchen table and whacked it with the pillow. Oddly satisfying. After hitting the table a dozen more times, I could breathe.

Delia made microwave popcorn, and then led me into the living room. She found a zombie movie. This time when the movie became gory, I didn’t cover my eyes, I just imagined the zombies were Grant.

As the movie finished, someone knocked on my front door. I checked out the window and saw Grant. Red filled my vision, I yanked the door open. “What in the hell are you doing here?”

He looked confused. “I thought this was the plan.”

“That plan went to hell when you kissed Lena.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Catch.” Delia threw my phone at him.

He caught it and looked at the picture. “Where did you get this?”

“Where? Why does that matter? What matters is you kissed her.”

“Zoe, look at the picture.” He shoved the phone toward me.

What did he think I was, some kind of masochist? “No thanks. I’ve seen it.”

“No. You didn’t. If you’d looked at it, you would have noticed something in the background.” He enlarged the picture and pointed at a banner draped across a doorway.

It said Fall Dance, but it had last year’s date. My brain tried to process this information. “This is last year’s picture?”

“Yes.”

A new wave of anger flowed through my veins. “That bitch. She set me up.” I could feel Grant staring me down. “I’m sorry.”

His disappointed expression didn’t change. “Zoe, what’s going on between us isn’t working. Is it?”

The floor seemed to shift beneath my feet. The anger fled and in its place came a cold dull ache that radiated through my bones. He was breaking up with me.

I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “You’re right. It’s not. I can’t do this anymore. You should go.”

His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t do anything wrong here.”

“Not this time. But eventually, you will.” And it would kill me. Not that this wasn’t killing me. I clenched my hands into fists, driving my nails into my palms. This was the smart thing to do.

“Fine.” He stormed off. I waited until I heard him drive away and then I let loose the tears.

…

My entire body ached, like I had the flu. I knew it was depression over Grant. How had I let myself fall for him, knowing the type of guy he was? It was like signing up to be someone’s punching bag. How could I have been so stupid?

At school, it felt like I was moving in slow motion while everyone else buzzed about at their normal rate. I heard the term “ringer” a few times. Were they talking about me? Wouldn’t that be freaking perfect?

I avoided the cafeteria, eating outside on one of the benches with Delia. “I don’t think I can face him in Foods class.”

She bumped me with her shoulder. “Don’t forget, you’ll have access to knives. That’s a plus.”

When the bell sounded to change classes, I headed for Foods, putting one foot in front of the other, not really wanting to reach my destination. Grant sat at our normal table. My only consolation? He looked like crap. Dark circles stood out under his eyes. Not that he met my gaze.

“Today, we begin our unit on cookies.” Ms. Ida announced.

“Doesn’t she make anything but desserts?” Grant mumbled.

I figured it was a rhetorical question, so I didn’t bother answering.

Working in the tiny apartment-sized kitchen with Grant was torture. Before, I hadn’t minded the close quarters. Brushing against each other was unavoidable at times. Each time our skin touched, there was a spark followed by a stab of emotional pain.

Did he feel the same way? Lips clamped together and eyes narrowed, he gave nothing away.

By the end of class I wanted to bolt from the room. And that was my plan as soon as I finished cleaning up our kitchen.

“Can we talk?” Grant put away the last dry bowl.

“Here? No.” Because I would get mad or sad or both and tears would come and I didn’t need that embarrassment.

“Then where?” He stepped in front of me, blocking my path and preventing me from leaving the tiny kitchen.

And right on cue, my eyes started to burn. “Just call me tonight.”

He didn’t move. “I don’t want to wait until tonight.”

“Well, we can’t always have what we want, can we?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Stay after class and talk, or I dump over this canister of flour so you have to stay here and clean up with me.”

There was a canister full of flour on the counter within arm’s reach. “You wouldn’t.”

He smirked and smacked the canister onto the floor. A cloud of white dust rose into the air. “Oh no,” he deadpanned. “Look what I’ve done.”

“I can’t believe you—”

“There’s a broom and dustpan in the supply closet. You might need the mop, too,” Ms. Ida called out. “Don’t worry if you run late, I’ll write you a pass.”

“Thanks,” I bit out.

The bell sounded, and our classmates filtered out of the room. Grant retrieved the broom. He swept while I held the dust pan.

“Now. You’re going to listen to me. I’m not the bad guy here.”

“I will attempt to ram this dustpan down your throat if you tell me that I can’t be mad because we weren’t exclusive.”

He blinked. “Why am I bothering—”

“Good question.” I took a dustpan full of flour and dumped it in the trash.

When I returned Grant pointed at me with the broom. “Shut up, and listen.”

I wanted to yell, just because he told me to be quiet. But I didn’t. “Fine. Talk.”

“Before you went postal Friday night, I was going to tell you that the dance wasn’t fun because you weren’t there. Several other girls flirted with me and asked me to dance, and do you know what I did? I said no. Do you know why?”

I shook my head, afraid to say anything that would make him stop talking.

“All I could think about was leaving the stupid dance to see you.”

Hope fluttered in my heart. “Really?”

“Yes. But once I got there you accused me of something I didn’t do and then you broke up with me.”

My world spun three hundred and sixty degrees.
How had I gotten it so wrong?

“But…the only reason I broke up with you is because I didn’t want to hear about how you could see other people if you wanted to.”

“But that’s not what I was going to say. If you’d given me a chance, instead of assuming you knew what I’d been about to say, we’d both be a lot happier right now.”

Did that mean I’d lost my shot?

He just stared at me.

“You weren’t trying to break up with me?” I gave a weak smile. “I’m sorry I thought you were.”

“I wasn’t.” He continued sweeping. “If you’d trusted me, instead of believing I’d cheated on you, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“Right, because the twins at the Chinese restaurant didn’t make you seem untrustworthy at all.”

“Fine. Maybe I could have handled
that
differently, but you just believed that picture of me with Lena was real. You didn’t even think about giving me the benefit of the doubt. You just believed the worst.”

He was right. I had.

And I wasn’t going to apologize again. I’d already done that. When the dustpan became full, I dumped it again. When he finished sweeping, he hung up the broom and exited the room. And I wanted to cry. Why hadn’t I let him explain Saturday night? I’d just assumed he’d been about to break up with me, and kicked him off my porch. And now it was really over.

I checked the clock. No way would I make it to my next class on time. I walked up to Ms. Ida’s desk. She filled out a late pass and handed it to me. “Sometimes you don’t get the ingredients right for a new recipe. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try it again.”

I appreciated the encouragement, but I wasn’t sure that her advice applied to this situation. Grant thought I didn’t trust him, and the truth was, I hadn’t, but maybe I should. How could I make him see that I was willing to trust him now?

All through classes, I thought about what I could say to Grant. Nothing I said would convince him that I trusted him. How could I show him? I spun my grandfather’s watch around my wrist, and then I paused. The watch. Nothing I owned meant as much to me as this watch and he knew it. At the end of the day, I knew what I had to do, so I rushed to the parking lot and waited for him by his car. When he saw me there, he frowned.

“This time, I was the one who messed up.” Taking a deep breath, I unbuckled my grandfather’s watch and showed him the inscription on the back.
Time isn’t as important as the people you spend it with.
“To prove that I do trust you, I want you to have this.” My hand shook as I held it out to him.