The Boyfriend Bet (Boyfriend Chronicles #2) (8 page)

“Yes. I plan on taking a nap.” I yawned. Now that the high from the state of panic had worn off, I felt more tired than before. At this rate, I’d be lucky if I managed to stay awake through first hour.

At lunch, I sucked down a soda and prayed that the caffeine gods would save the day. By Foods class, I wasn’t doing too badly.

“You seem more alert,” Grant said as we flipped through recipe cards Ms. Ida had passed out at the beginning of class.

“Caffeine is my friend.” I stopped shuffling when I found a card for old fashioned mac ’n cheese. “We should make this. It doesn’t require a lot of ingredients or a lot of clean up.”

Our assignment was to pick a recipe and create a grocery list. We would only be allowed to use the items on our list when we cooked. So if we left anything off the list, we’d be screwed. Not that Ms. Ida had put it that way. Her message was more along the line of,
you don’t want to plan a meal and find out you don’t have all the ingredients.

“Looks easy enough.” He shot me a smile that had he not rebuffed me the day before, might have made my heart flutter. I wasn’t about to go down that path again. Mr. Moody could find another girl to flirt with. Then again, what did I know, maybe he acted this way with all females, whether he was interested in them or not.

“Why don’t you write down the list of things we’ll need,” I suggested, “and then I’ll double check it.”

His smile faltered a bit.

I laughed. “What? Do you want me to write it down?”

“No. I’ve got this.” He grabbed a pen and one of the blank recipe cards. When he was done, he passed me the list. I glanced at it. “You forgot butter and salt.”

“We always have those things. Why would I need to put them on the list?”

“Weren’t you listening? Ms. Ida said we could only use what we put on the list.”

He snatched the card back and added the two missing ingredients.

“You don’t like to be wrong,” I teased.

“No one likes to be wrong. Not that I was. I just wasn’t aware of all the rules.”

I held my hand out for the card. “I better check again, just to be sure.”

“No.” He stood. “It’s good. I’m going to turn it in.”

“Whatever.” Curious, I watched him approach Ms. Ida. As he made his way across the room, several girls glanced at him and smiled. He smiled back at every one of them. Was he preparing for a career as a politician, or was he just keeping all his options open?

…

Over the next few days, Aiden kept popping up near Delia. He wasn’t flirting with her. It was more like he thought they were friends. More often than not, Grant came along for the ride. He flirted just enough to annoy me. Why was he flirting with me? Was he one of those guys that only went after girls who weren’t interested in him?

Jack must have noticed what was going on, because Wednesday night at dinner he said, “I hear you’re hanging around Grant again. What’s up with that?”

Good question. I twisted my grandfather’s watch around on my wrist. I’d been wondering that myself. “We have Foods class together, so we talk. It’s not a big deal.”

He tapped his fingers on the tabletop. “Does he come looking for you, or is it just in Foods class?”

“Some of both, I guess.”

“You should know that guys are still saying he’s trying to make you the Ringer, and he’s not denying it.”

Wait. What did that mean? “Did anyone ask him directly, or is he just ignoring stupid gossip?”

“You want me to ask him, because I’d be happy to do that.”

That’s all I needed. “Not a good idea.”

“Tell me you aren’t going to fall for this, Zoe. You’re smarter than that, right?”

“I don’t trust him. Does that make you happy?”

He nodded. “It’s a start.”

Delia was already in a conversation with Aiden when I approached her on the quad the next morning. Grant stood off to the side. When he saw me approaching, his face lit up, like he was happy to be in my presence. And I found myself smiling back. Maybe I should just come out and ask him what was going on. He probably thought we were just friends, like Aiden seemed to be with Delia.

I nodded at Grant. “Morning.”

“Good morning.” Pointing at my grandfather’s watch, he said, “You must’ve gotten some sleep last night.”

Okay. Small talk. I could do this. “I did, but I’m ready for the weekend.”

“Big plans?” he asked.

“Yes. Naps interrupted by bouts of binge watching Netflix. There might be some cake baking in between.”

He laughed. “Watch out, you’ll end up on the evening news: Teenage girl goes on Netflix bender.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Bantering with Grant felt natural. We could be friends. Of course, it would be a lot easier to think friend thoughts if he wasn’t so good-looking.

Chapter Eight

Grant

When I asked Zoe what she was doing this weekend, I thought she’d say, nothing, which was the standard girl response if she hoped you were about to ask her on a date. Not that I’d planned on asking her out, I was just filling the void left by my suddenly talkative best friend.

I had no idea what he was doing with Delia. Maybe he did just want to be friends with her. Playing back-up to him was a strange new role, but it left me free to relax and talk to Zoe in a no-pressure situation, since I wasn’t the one who initiated contact. Which made dating sound like interacting with an alien life-form. Where Zoe was concerned, that wasn’t an inaccurate description. She never reacted the way I expected, which was interesting. And she didn’t try to tell me what to do or how to do something, which made hanging around her fun. It’s like she didn’t have an agenda. Wait a minute…had I been friend-zoned? No way was I okay with that lame category. Maybe I should flirt with her just a little bit.

The bell for first hour rang, so we went our separate ways. Once we were out of the hearing range of the girls, I said, “What’s going on between you and Delia?”

Aiden shrugged. “I don’t know. I like talking to her.”

“Are you going to ask her on a date?”

“I think we’re good as friends, but I need to collect more data.”

There was the Aiden I recognized. He didn’t do anything spur of the moment. His entire life was planned out. “Ten bucks says you’ve created a spread sheet listing her positive and negative qualities.”

“Of course I have, so no bet. At this point I don’t have much information to go on. What about you and Zoe?”

“Nothing to talk about.”

“Right. That’s why you smile at her so much.”

Did I smile too much? “It’s called being smooth.”

“I thought it was called keeping your options open, so you could win the bet.”

“That too.” What should my next move be? “Maybe we should see if they want to hang out this weekend. Not like a date, just something where we meet up with them.”

“I’d be open to that, but you’re in charge of making it happen. Talk to Zoe in Foods, see what you can work out.”

I needed to mention something that the girls would want to attend no matter if we were going or not. I pulled out my cell and Googled local events. Apple butter festival, craft fair, outside screening of a movie I’d never heard of at a nearby park, and a pie eating contest at Betty’s Burgers. No, no, no, and hell no. I switched over to the new movies coming out this weekend. Thank goodness that
Love Lost
movie was gone. There were a few action movies that looked good, and a new Sci Fi movie about space vampires I wanted to see. Maybe I could steer Zoe toward that.

In Foods, I set my phone down on the table so Zoe could see what I was doing and pulled up the movie times.

“Anything good on?” Zoe leaned in so she could see the screen. The scent of oranges drifted up from her hair. What was that about?

“Oh.” She pointed at the screen. “The space vampire movie is out.”

Mission accomplished. “Aiden and I might go see that.”

Zoe sat back and stared off into space. “I’ll probably have to let Delia cut my hair to get her to see it with me.”

“What’s that mean?”

She laughed. “Delia prefers artsy films and I like paranormal and Sci Fi. In order to get her to go with me, sometimes it’s necessary to bribe her by letting her mess with my hair or my clothes.”

“Interesting. How does she get you to the Artsy movies?”

“I like to try new recipes, and she lets me use her as a guinea pig.”

In a strange way that made sense. “Aiden will want to go. We could meet at the theater Saturday night and hang out afterward.”

Zoe froze for a second, and then sat back in her seat and stared at me. “What does that mean? Hang out?”

Okay. Maybe this wouldn’t be so easy. “I don’t know. Just a no-pressure situation where we meet someplace and have fun.”

“Like friends?” she asked.

I didn’t want to label the situation, but I doubted Zoe would go unless I agreed. “Sure. That sounds good.”

“So, if anyone asks you’ll tell them we’re just friends, right? Because I’ve heard that people are still talking about me like I’m the Ringer.”

Now I understood where this was coming from. “If I hear any crap like that, I’ll take care of it.”

…

Zoe

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Delia asked as we pulled into the parking lot at the movie theater Saturday night.

I pointed at my hair, which she’d foiled, adding cinnamon colored lowlights and cut to shoulder length last night. “Hello, you’ve already had your way with my hair, so there’s no backing out now.”

“Your hair looks awesome.”

I flipped down the visor and checked out the new me. “It does, doesn’t it?”

She nodded. “And I wasn’t talking about the movie. I was talking about this whole hanging-out agenda.”

I’d been pondering Grant’s reasons for suggesting this plan of action. “Maybe Aiden just needs a low pressure situation to feel confident, and if he has a good time then he’ll ask you out.”

“If I wanted to go out with him, why couldn’t I ask him? Why do women have to wait for men to make the first move?”

“And so goes the dating lament females have been griping about since the beginning of time.”

“You know Grant saying he just wants to be friends is a load of crap.”

Maybe, maybe not. “Who cares? Space vampires and popcorn await us beyond those doors.” I pointed to the theater and checked the time on the dash. “Let’s go so we can grab good seats.”

“What if the guys already have seats picked out?” Delia asked as we jogged across the parking lot to get out of the cool autumn air.

“If we don’t like the seats we tell them they can sit with us in another spot. The joy of this not being a date is we don’t have to worry about offending them.”

“When have you ever worried about that?” Delia asked as she pulled the theater door open.

“It occasionally crosses my mind.” I headed for the shortest ticket line.

After we purchased our tickets, popcorn, and soda we headed into theater four and scanned the dimly lit area for two familiar faces.

“They aren’t here yet,” Delia said.

“Then we can pick the seats.” I headed toward the tenth row and sat in the second seat so Delia would end up in the third seat, allowing Aiden to sit in the fourth seat next to her.

“You should scoot over one more,” Delia said, “in case Aiden and Grant want to sit next to each other.”

“Nope.” I took off my jacket and laid it on the chair next to me. “Grant can sit next to me, or he can sit on the floor.”

“Okay.” Delia placed her purse on the fourth seat and we waited. The lights dimmed, and the previews started.

Maybe they’d changed their mind. That would be a decidedly un-friendly thing to do. I checked the time on my cell. The movie was due to start in ten minutes. No need to panic yet.

“We don’t need them here to enjoy the movie.” Delia pulled a bag of candy corn from her purse and added it to the popcorn.

“You’re right, but I’m going to be super-pissed if they bail on us since this was their idea. Bad things might happen to their cars.”

“You better tell your grandmother to start a swear jar for bail money.”

It was an old joke. Delia and I both had tempers which my grandmother was sure would eventually have her bailing us out of jail, at some point.

I picked at the popcorn and pretended to watch the previews. Where was Grant? If this had been some elaborate set-up to mess with me, my grandmother really was going to need bail money. It was one thing to not be interested in me and suggest we hang out as friends. It was another superiorly shitty thing to invite me somewhere and then ditch me like it was some sort of stupid prank.

As the minutes ticked by, my mood nosedived. When the movie started, I sunk low in my seat ignoring the popcorn laced with candy corn Delia offered.

“Maybe they’re just running late,” she said.

“Doesn’t matter,” I lied. “We’re here and we have popcorn.”

At least the movie was interesting. I got sucked into the story and the ninety minutes flew by.

When the credits rolled, Delia glanced over at me. “What did you think?”

“Considering the homicidal mood I’m in, it was pretty good.”

Delia stood. “We’re going to Art of Tea. I’ll paint, you can crochet, and we’ll plot different ways to vandalize Grant’s car.”

“Works for me.”

We weaved through all the people in the lobby and headed into the parking lot toward my car.

“Hey, you’re going in the wrong direction,” Grant’s voice called out.

Grant and Aiden came toward us smiling like everything was wonderful.

“No we’re not.” I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at Grant.

“What’s going on?” Grant looked back and forth between me and Delia.

I forced a calm tone. “You asked us to come here and meet you to watch a movie together and then you didn’t show up. That’s what’s going on.”

Aiden reached up and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Grant, did you and Zoe decide on the late show, or did you just assume she’d know that’s what you meant?”

Grant moved a step closer to me. “You just finished watching the movie, didn’t you?”

“And you thought we bailed on you,” Aiden said.

I shrugged. “No big deal. It’s not like this was a date.”

“It’s still a crappy thing to do but now that we’ve figured out what happened,” Grant said, “do you want to go grab something to eat?”

“We were going to the Art of Tea, if you want to join us.” No way was I changing my plans to fit what they wanted.

“Never heard of it,” Grant said, “but I’m guessing they have tea.”

“It’s on old Main Street on the left hand side,” Delia said. “It’s a white two story house. You’ll see people sitting on the wraparound porch working on looms.”

“Looms?” Grant said like he hadn’t heard correctly, or hoped he hadn’t.

“Think of it as penance.” I smiled sweetly at him and headed for my car.

On the drive across town, I tried to figure out how I felt. “What’s your spin on this?”

“Grant is an idiot.”

“Besides that.”

“Sorry, that’s all I’ve got.”

Not like I could argue the point. The parking lot at Art of Tea was almost full. “I hope we can find a table inside.”

“You go stake out a table and I’ll grab two raspberry teas.”

I spotted two open tables and chose the small round table by a window. It looked like an ice cream parlor table with just enough room to set drinks for a few people. A family of six came in and sat at the bigger table. I was glad I’d left the bigger table open. If I were to guess, I’d say the family was two kids with their parents and grandparents. My chest gave a familiar ache. I missed having my entire family together. No father and no grandfather left a big hole in my family gatherings. I was grateful for the people I had left. Even if Jack was obnoxious half the time.

Grant entered the establishment with a wary look on his face. Aiden scanned the area like he was analyzing the situation.

I waved when they glanced my way. Grant came toward me while Aiden headed toward the counter where Delia stood in line.

“What is this place?” Grant asked.

“It’s fun.” I pointed at the half finished paintings on the wall. “You can work on a community painting or start your own or try any other craft you want.”

“What do you like to do?”

“I crochet.” Standing up, I said, “Now that you’re here I’m going to pick out some yarn. Be right back.”

I browsed through the baskets of yarn and found a multi colored jewel toned skein of yarn which allowed me to choose one of several colors of crochet hooks. I went with emerald since it was larger than the others.

By the time I returned to the table, Delia and Aiden had joined us. Four mugs sat on the table. “Which one is mine?” I asked.

Grant pushed an elephant shaped mug toward me. “You are the proud owner of this hideously ugly mug.”

“It is kind of bad, isn’t it?” I laughed and picked the cup up by the trunk, blowing on my tea before taking a sip.

“I think Aiden wins second runner up for ugliest mug contest.” Delia pointed at Aiden’s mug which resembled a pumpkin missing its stem.

Grant held his black and brown speckled mug. “If I hadn’t seen some of the other options, I’d think the lady behind the counter didn’t like me.”

Delia held up her delicate china cup covered in butterflies. “I must be her favorite.”

Grant pointed at my head. “Cool hair.”

“Thanks.”

We made small talk and joked around for an hour, while Delia added circles and lines to someone’s attempt at abstract art. “This person had no sense of balance.”

“At least they tried,” Aiden said.

“You should try it.” Delia offered him the brush.

“No thanks.” He pushed his chair back a little bit. “Not in my nature. Give me a page full of numbers and a problem to solve and I’m good. Don’t ask me to paint or draw or God forbid, dance.”

I leaned closer to Grant. “Want to learn how to crochet?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s a skill I can live without.”

“When the zombie apocalypse comes I’ll have scarves and blankets. You’ll be dependent on whatever is already in your house.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Are you sure?” I held out the six inches of multi-colored scarf I’d crocheted so far. “I think you’d look lovely in a sweater made from this yarn.”

“Nope. It’s against guy-code to wear that many colors at once.”

I laughed. Hanging out with Grant like this was fun. He may not be boyfriend material, but he was entertaining.

When the conversation slowed, Delia stood and grabbed her painting. “I’m going to put this back on the wall for someone else to finish.”

I looked at my off-kilter scarf.

“Shouldn’t each row be the same width?” Grant asked.

“I prefer a free-form method. Besides, someone can unravel it and fix it if they want.” After putting my project in the yarn area, and returning to the table, I said, “This was fun.”

“Sorry about the time mix-up,” Grant said.