“I bet she is.” Dahlia pursed her lips in distaste. “From what I hear, she’s been trying to get your attention for a long time.”
Why did everyone jump to that conclusion? Madeline definitely wasn’t interested in me. “It’s not like that. She was just bemoaning how hard it is to pretend to have a crush on me. It’s given her an existential crisis about her acting skills.”
Dahlia relaxed, all charm and possibilities again. “Then there’s something wrong with her because most girls would find it very easy.” She gave me a playful look. “I know I do.”
“You can’t tell anyone about Madeline and me pretending to date,” I reiterated. “If people know, it could get back to our parents that it’s all fake. I wasn’t even supposed to tell you.”
Dahlia put her hand on my arm, a gesture of confidence. “You can trust me.”
I didn’t flinch at her touch.
That started me thinking about Madeline again and wondering if she was right about my acting skills. I hadn’t really flinched last night when she’d touched me, had I?
I ran the whole scene through my mind. Madeline thankingme for the flowers in a perky voice and hugging me. Her body had pressed against mine, and I’d wrapped my arms around her. I’d smelled the scent of her rich-girl shampoo and noted how she felt simultaneously soft and stiff, like someone destined to sweep through a European country in haute couture giving air kisses to people. The hug had been natural enough on my side. I hadn’t minded it at all.
It wasn’t until Dahlia said goodbye and went into her class that I realized I hadn’t been listening to her again.
Madeline just took center stage wherever she went. Even my thoughts. Her and her expressive blue eyes. I made a concerted effort not to think about her the rest of the day, but that night when I got home from work, a plate of chocolate chip cookies waited in the middle of the table.
Mom sat nearby, paying bills on her laptop. “Tate brought these over. Madeline baked them for you.”
Apology cookies for ignoring my texts. Sweet. I bit into one. It was better than just good. I’d clearly stumbled upon one of Madeline’s hidden talents.
“Eat some dinner first,” Mom said.
I went to the fridge and surveyed what was inside. “Did Madeline come with her father to deliver the cookies?”
“No, Tate wouldn’t let her because she’s grounded. You got to see each other when you delivered flowers. That’s enough contact outside of school for this week.”
“Her dad is still going to let her come to the game, though, right?” Perhaps it was mean to put in a plug for that when I knew Madeline hated football. I said it anyway. The girl needed to work on her spectator sports skills.
“To the game, yes, but not to ice cream afterward. Untilyou’re finished being grounded, it will just be Tate and me. And Claire, if she wants to come.”
“Okay.” They were trying to keep Madeline and me apart. That was good. I pulled some leftover chicken casserole out of the fridge and stuck it in the microwave.
Mom watched me, studying my reaction.
I realized too late I should’ve acted disappointed about not seeing Madeline Friday night. I needed to give Mom a reason for not protesting that decision. “You’re not going to make a family ice cream trip a tradition after every game, are you? I mean, going out someplace with my girlfriend and our parents feels like you’re chaperoning us.”
“My rule has always been that family time comes before friends. I’d think you’d be happy that you can do both at the same time.”
I didn’t have to fake my frustration over that statement. “That’s because it’s been too long since you’ve been a teenager.”
She chuckled, allowing my point. “Maybe. But you can put up with your parents for free specialty ice cream, can’t you? You and Madeline can still hang out on Saturdays once you’re ungrounded.”
Was there a bit of a challenge to her words, some doubt that we actually would? She was watching me too closely. Her fingers traced the grain of the wood on the table in a casual gesture. “What plans do you have for your first official date?”
If I was really as eager to go out with Madeline as I professed, I’d have an answer to this question. “We’re still discussing it.”
“Tate said you and Madeline were going to the Fire Grill.”
I gritted my teeth and bit back my reaction. Why had Madeline given her father that information? I hadn’t taken mylast prom date to such an expensive place. Now my mother was suspicious—or about to lecture me about the way I was burning through money. “We talked about it,” I said, “but we’re still deciding.”
“You need to make reservations ahead of time for nice restaurants.” Mom smiled, oh so helpful. “I can do that for you if you want.”
Yep, she was suspicious. She knew there was no way I’d drop that much cash on a girl I just started dating.
“That’s okay. If we decide to go there, I’ll do it.”
