Wallflower Page 6

  She just smiled. "Sometimes opposites attract."

  "I'm telling you," he said, "nothing is going to happen. Not between my baby girl and Dare. No way."

  "It would serve you right if it did." Mom shot me a wink as my father scowled. "Just think. They could fall in love, end up getting married years down the line, have a whole bunch of soccer-playing babies, and it would all be thanks to you."

  Dad groaned, and I couldn't help but laugh.

  Even with the screwed up situation, the thought of Dare and me? Together?

  That would make anyone giggle.

  Even on Monday as I was getting my books out of my locker between classes, the memory of dinner, Mom's words and the look of horror on Dad's face had me smiling.

  "You know, nothing's changed."

  My expression dropped as I turned to find Whitney, standing at my side. Her long brown hair hung in waves around her shoulders, the makeup she wore accentuating every feature but especially playing up her tiny nose and flawless skin—which I knew she thought was her best feature. How she'd managed to slither over without me noticing I didn't know. But she'd always been sneaky like that.

  "Dare has to be nice to you since you drive him to school now," she said then ran a hand through her hair. "But everyone still thinks you're a loser."

  It was hard, but I stopped myself from rolling my eyes.

  "Awesome," I said. "Is that all?"

  "Yeah, also, you're so not on Tyson's level." My stomach clenched as she went on. "It's really sad, but guys like him and Dare, they have standards. They really value a girl's appearance and how they take care of themselves."

  Whitney's eyes traveled the length of my body before she once again met my eyes.

  "That's just how guys are."

  "Wow, it's so nice of you to let me know," I said.

  Whitney's face got all pinched, and I took pleasure in her confusion. "You're just not in their league. That's all I'm saying."

  "Okay, I really appreciate the reminder. Thanks."

  "You're welcome."

  She obviously wanted to say more but wasn't sure her taunts were hitting their mark.

  "Stay humble, Viola."

  I hummed as she walked away then quietly, under my breath said, "Yeah sure. Drink bleach, Whitney."

  She stopped a few feet away, turned around. "What was that?"

  Maybe I hadn't been as quiet as I thought.

  "Oh, nothing," I said and waved her on. "Thanks again. That was super helpful."

  Her frown was fierce, making these deep lines appear at the corners of her mouth. If she'd known how unattractive it made her look, I was sure she'd never make that face again. Girls like Whitney hated looking ugly. But sometimes you just can't hide the ugliness inside.

  With one last glare, she huffed and walked off.

  A low chuckle had me spinning around, and I found Dare behind me, having come from who knows where, shaking his head.

  "Drink bleach," he repeated. "That's savage."

  I lifted my chin. "It's one of my favorite insults. My mom came up with it actually."

  "Nice," Dare said.

  Holding out a hand, I said, "So friend, what's up? Make any more deals with my dad that I should know about?"

  He had the nerve to grin. "Nope, day's not over yet though. You never know."

  "Oh, and he has jokes," I said. "I'm glad my humiliation is so amusing to you."

  Dare shook head like I was the cutest thing.

  "What do you want, Dare? And don't say it's about treats. I definitely gave you your breakfast this morning and saw you at lunch today. There's no way you're hungry."

  "You know, you shouldn't watch what people eat," he pointed out. "Also, wow. I know you're mad about the thing with your dad, but there's no need to fat shame me."

  My neck jerked back, appalled at what he was implying. "I wasn't. I mean, I didn't mean to—"

  Dare chuckled. "Calm down, flower, I was just kidding."

  "Gah!" I put my hands on my hips. "Why would you do that? I felt bad for a second. I'd never fat shame anyone. Ever."

  "Well, you kind of just did," he said. "Unintentionally. But lucky for you, I have a very healthy ego."

  Understatement of the century, I thought.

  "Though my parents are always on me about my diet."

  "Oh my God, I'm so sorry," I said. Weight was a very touchy subject for me. I'd always struggled with it, and I felt awful thinking I might have hurt his feelings. "You're not fat, Dare. Not that there's anything wrong with being fat anyway. But you're not. You're actually pretty fit."

  After a beat, Dare smiled. "Man, you are so easy."

  My eyes closed at his expression, realizing I'd been had.

  "They could care less what I eat, Viola," he added. "If anything, I have to intake a lot because I burn so much with soccer. Your dad's actually given me some good tips."

  "Why do you enjoy torturing me?" I asked.

  "Not torture," Dare said, and when I re-opened my eyes, he still looked mighty pleased with himself. "I have more fun than I should teasing you. But it's what friends do."

  I lifted a brow. "Fake friends, you mean?"

  Dare tilted his head. "I thought we cleared this up the other day. We're friends, Viola. Or at least, we're getting there."

  I tugged at the bottom of my shirt. "You know, I really didn't mean anything by it. About the food. I know you're saying it was a joke, but I hope I didn't offend you."

  At that, Dare did the unthinkable.

  He reached down and lifted his shirt, high enough to show me a tantalizing view of his stomach. The six pack he revealed was lean and lovely. Dare even had those cut V-lines that kissed the top of his waistband. Fit indeed, I thought, trying to make sure I wasn't doing something stupid like drooling or ogling him too much. But it was difficult.

  Dare looked up and met my gaze.

  "I'm good, flower."

  Yes. Yes, he was.

  "I wanted to ask you something."

  "Hmm," I said.

  "Can you give me a lift home after practice? Ty usually does, but he was out sick today."

  "Sure, sure, no problem."

  "Great, thanks." Dare dropped his shirt then, and I blinked, coming back to the here and now. "Practice lasts about 45 minutes. There's plenty of room to sit in the stands. See you there, Vi."

  Before I knew it, he was jogging down the hall, and I was left staring after him with a surprising revelation. I was now stuck driving Dare home, would have to sit through soccer practice and wait until he was done.

  All because I was hypnotized by his lovely abs.

  Note to self: Ab trances are a real thing, and I am not immune.

  Ugh.

  At least this would give me a chance to plot my revenge on Dad.

  #

  It was hot as Hades outside. I was sitting mostly by myself in the stands with a pen and notebook propped on my lap, pretending to study so as not to look suspicious. But it was all a front.

  Instead of homework, my eyes were on my dad.

  Wondering what would get through to him, make him regret meddling in my life.

  He'd hired a guy, for goodness sake.

  To be my friend.

  Who the heck did that?

  And for that matter why choose Dare? Why not another girl my age? His faith in Dare and their bond was easy to see during practice. All Dad had to do was make a hand gesture or shout one word, and Dare immediately knew what he meant. That happened now as the team waited for the ball to be thrown back inbounds. Dare looked to my father, who gave him a nod, and then the ball was in play. In the next breath, Dare managed to shake off two defenders, get into position by the net, and when the ball was passed to him, he caught it with his chest, and shot it right past the goalie into the net. All of this happened in a matter of seconds. Even I, who didn't typically like watching soccer—much to my father's dismay—knew that kick had been picture perfect. Dad blew his whistle, signaling the end of practice, and as t
he team came in, he gave Dare a pat on the back.

  But I shook my head.

  Part of me understood that he was trying to help by giving me the only thing he thought would make me happy. Dad loved people, and they loved him. He'd even been voted Favorite Teacher of the Year by the students for three years running. He thought I was lonely—though I'd told him I wasn't. He thought I needed someone to talk to (a human, not the animals at the shelter). Which okay, yeah, maybe I did.

  But this was just cray cray.

  Dad needed a wakeup call. Badly.

  I had to show him the error of his ways.

  But how?

  My eyes went to the notebook page in front of me. We'd been out here nearly an hour. I was starting to sweat under the heat, couldn't even imagine how the players were feeling with all the running back and forth.

  And I hadn't been able to come up with a thing.

  Well, nothing I could use.

  My imagination was one of my best attributes. I'd watched too many movies, read too many books, for my mind to be idle. I was bursting with ideas. But of the possibilities I wrote down, I'd ended up crossing them all out.

  Idea #1) Be wild.

  Take a page from Dare's playbook and start partying, experiment with alcohol and smoking, hook up—heck maybe sleep around (all things I'd heard Dare had done his first year at DHS. Funnily enough, he'd never been like that before—but it hadn't been pretty.). There was even a rumor he'd dated and dumped the entire cheer squad. Though, I hadn't verified that.

  I'd marked through that option almost instantly.

  My uncle Ollie let me try his beer once, and I nearly puked. Also, smoking was just ew. Parties and hooking up involved interacting with people. Enough said.

  Onto the next.

  Idea #2) Date someone on the team.

  Another no-go. The idea was good on the surface. I knew Dad would absolutely hate the thought of me dating anyone, let alone a player. There was just one big problem. None of the guys on the team knew I was alive—well, besides Dare, Tyson and Jovonte, thanks to Lit. But Dare was Dare, Jovonte was taken, and Tyson hadn't returned my feelings. Plus, if I were being honest, I didn't feel the same as I had when I'd made that confession. After eating lunch with Ty the past week, I realized I hadn't actually known him at all. He wasn't the dream guy I'd built him up to be in my head. Except for the nice part. He was definitely that. But now, he struck me more as friendship material.

  And who would want to date me anyway?

  Idea #3) Fake my own death.

  That would show him, I thought. Granted it was a little out there, could even be the title of a Lifetime movie…but nah. Too dramatic.

  Plus, I'd never do that to my parents. They weren't perfect (obviously). But I loved them.

  Didn't mean I was giving up on my revenge.

  I'd jotted down a few other notes, but none were right.

  The plan hinged on me somehow convincing Dad that driving/being friends with Dare was a mistake, had resulted in an unforeseen and undesirable outcome. That much was obvious. I reached deep inside to find my inner Slytherin. Maybe I was quiet and introverted—but I was also cunning. Tapping the paper with my pen a couple times, my eyes narrowed. It felt like I was just on the cusp of a breakthrough…

  If this were a rom com, right about now I'd be having some kind of epiphany.

  "Hey!" A female voice startled me. Glancing to the left, I saw Estelle, whose smile grew as she saw my face. She trotted over with Ingrid Pinsky and two other cheerleaders I didn't know, stopping a few feet away. "Hey Viola, I thought that was you. How's it going, girl?"

  "Hi," I said. Noticing their matching bows, I put two and two together. "Ah, I didn't know you cheered."

  "Just wanted to try, thought it might be fun." Estelle lowered her voice. "Though besides being bubbly—according to Jovonte—and too loud—Mom calls me that all the time— I'm like the anti-cheerleader. I love the color black, and I'm more into dance than cheer. Shh," she added with a wink, "don't tell the others."

  I gave a half-smile. "Your secret's safe with me."

  "You're Viola Kent," Ingrid observed.

  I didn't bother answering. It wasn't a question. We'd gone to school together for years.

  She kept studying me, and while I liked Estelle, I wished they'd all go away. With Ingrid here, Whitney couldn't be too far behind. The girls were BFFs.

  "Were you watching soccer practice?" Ingrid asked.

  "Yes," I said slowly.

  She nodded. "Because you like Tyson."

  My brow furrowed. Her comment came out of nowhere. "No," I said. "I'm giving Dare a ride home. Tyson's not even here."

  She tsked and put her hands on her hips. "But you do like him, right? I was just wondering because it really seems like you do."

  "I have no idea why you'd think that."

  "Well, after what happened, I figured you had a major crush."

  I looked at her blankly, but then she said, "Your confession, silly. I heard the whole thing."

  My heart dropped to my toes.

  "You…heard?" I said.

  "Yeah, I wasn't trying to listen." Ingrid frowned. "I just forgot something in the locker room and overheard as I was coming back out."

  My pulse started to pound. Forgot something? Yeah, right. Ingrid was literally the worst gossip in the whole school. It was a wonder the news hadn't leaked already.

  "That was private," I breathed.

  "I know. It's kind of why I didn't tell anyone."

  Until now when she outed me to Estelle and these other girls. Ugh.

  "We should get back," Estelle said, and I threw her a grateful look. "Whitney will blow her lid if we take too long."

  But Ingrid waved her off.

  "Oh, she'll be fine," she said then turned her attention back to me. "It was awful how he turned you down like that, Viola. But seriously, what did you expect? Tyson's one of the hottest, most popular guys in school. Did you think he'd want to be your boyfriend or something?"

  No, I thought he was moving across the world.

  I didn't know what it was, the sympathy on Estelle's face, the feigned pity on Ingrid's, or the way the other two tittered after one of them coughed "As if," but something set me off.

  "Actually, I already have a boyfriend," I said.

  I knew the words were a mistake the second they left my lips, but it was too late.

  "You do?" Ingrid crossed her arms. "But you said you were in love with Tyson."

  "I thought I was," I said.

  She hmphed. "It's been less than two weeks," she said. "This guy must be something if you got over Ty so quickly."

  I nodded. "Oh yeah, he is. So thoughtful, smart and funny, too," I said, gushing like I hadn't a care in the world. "He made it easy to get over my little crush."

  "Good for you, girl," Estelle said and clapped her hands. "I can't wait to meet him! Ooh, you and your man could go on a double-date with me and Jovonte! Wouldn't that be awesome?"

  Yeah, I thought, that'll be tough since he's technically imaginary.

  But I just said, "Yeah, maybe someday."

  "Is he hot?" Ingrid asked.

  "Absolutely stunning."

  I didn't know where I was coming up with this stuff, but the look of surprise on her face was worth it.

  For about five seconds.

  "What's his name?" she said.

  I blinked. "Sorry, what?"

  "His name," Ingrid repeated as I struggled to come up with a believable story. "Does he go here? I know all the hot guys at Durham."

  Of course, she did.

  "So…" she pressed, gesturing for me to answer. "You can't just say all that and then not tell us. Who was the guy that helped you get over Tyson?"

  "Well," I said, stalling for time, "it's really new, and he's kind of shy. I'm not sure if he'd want me putting our relationship out there just yet."

  "Oh, you can trust me, Viola. I won't tell a soul. Neither will the girls."

  Sure, she
wouldn't.

  "So, who's your boyfriend?" she said again.

  I'd opened my mouth to respond, but someone else beat me to it.

  "Ah, there she is."

  Dare stepped up next to me, making me nearly jump out of my skin when he draped an arm across my shoulders. We were definitely not at the casual touching stage yet. The crazy part, though, was how good it felt. How…right. After the initial shock, the weight of him, his closeness, seemed to settle something deep inside me.

  "Sorry about the wait," he said. Then he shot a wink at the four girls who were currently gawking at us. "I had to shower before coming out."

  I looked down at his arm then back up to meet his eyes. "It's fine," I said.

  "Wanted to make sure I was fresh and clean for you—and Buttercup, of course."

  I couldn't help but smile a little. "I'm sure she'll appreciate that."

  "I was pretty sweaty," he said.

  "Really?" I asked. "I'm surprised. It looked like everyone else was trying to keep up with you."

  The corner of Dare's lips turned up. "So you were watching, flower? I'm flattered."

  I rolled my eyes. "Don't be. It's just the truth."

  "Still," he said. Then glancing at the others, he added, "What were you guys talking about before I got here?"

  "Nothing," I said quickly. "Are you ready to go?"

  My escape attempt was thwarted when Whitney walked over and joined us.

  "Ingrid, girls, what the hell? I told you to take five, not fifteen." Seeming to register Dare's presence for the first time, Whitney softened her voice. "Oh hi, Dare."

  "Hey," he said.

  "I've been watching you at practice. You're looking good," she said, and I knew by the way her eyes lingered over his body that she meant more than on the field. "Bet we take home a championship this year."

  "Yeah, I hope so."

  "It's been a while since we hung out." Whitney bit her lip. "You want to come over this weekend?"

  "Not sure Penn would like that," Dare said.

  She shook her head. "It's not like he owns me. We're not exclusive or anything."

  "Thanks, but I'll pass."

  "Oh that's fine."

  By the tone of her voice, she was pissed at his rejection. Whitney looked from him to me, her eyes contracting a bit, before finally landing on the members of her squad.