Madeline:Fair point. See you then.
Even though I’d set up a meeting with Madeline, I still found myself looking for her between classes. Some part of my brain hadn’t gotten the memo and constantly kept an eye out for her. I kept wondering how she would react to my suggestion. Because my suggestion involved kissing.
She kissed guys onstage for her roles. That’s all this was. A part. Maybe Madeline wouldn’t mind so much. Maybe she’d even think it was a good idea.
I hung out with Dahlia after lunch in the hallway by the stairs, listening to her chatter about the party she’d gone to over the weekend. She listed who’d been there with whom, and who’d been fighting, and who’d been shamelessly making out.
I nodded and occasionally commented, pretending I was paying attention. My attention had not only drifted off, it prowled the corridors and peeked into classroom doors. It paced around by the refreshment shack, impatiently waiting for school to end.
What was wrong with me?
Dahlia was gorgeous and nice. Most of the guys at school would cheerfully push me down a manhole if it meant they could spend time with her, and I kept thinking about what it would be like to kiss Madeline.
Madeline had no interest in me. But at the same time, when I had spelled out my financial situation, she’d looked so stricken. She hadn’t known what to say, and Madeline was never at a loss for words.
Dahlia put her hand on my arm, and my eyes snapped backto her. “But that one will be even better because you’ll be there, right?”
Wait, had she given me a time and place for an event? Were we still talking about parties? If I said, “Right,” would I be agreeing to something?
Best to go for noncommittal. “I don’t know. I’ll have to check my calendar.”
She cocked her head in confusion. “You have to check your calendar to see if you can go to the homecoming game?”
“Just joking,” I said. “Of course, I’m going. The coach would kill me if I didn’t.”
She poked me in the side playfully. “Everyone would kill you. And I’d kill you if you missed the dance. I already bought my dress.” Her lips went pouty. “Don’t make me get violent.” She was about to poke me again. I grabbed her hand to stop her.
Dahlia wrapped her fingers around mine and smiled, self-satisfied. This was what she had intended, a teasing PDA in the school corridor.
That’s when my girl-radar kicked in and I looked across the corridor. Madeline walked by, and the press of her mouth said she’d been watching me. Our eyes locked. She rolled hers and continued down the hallway.
I dropped Dahlia’s hand and pushed away from the wall. “We should go to class.” I headed down the hall with her,scratching the back of my neck to give my hand an excuse to stay away from hers.
Flirting with Dahlia seemed wrong when I was about to tell Madeline that we should add a kissing session to our fake relationship.
When the last bell rang, and I made my way to the bleachers, I’d nearly talked myself out of the idea.
Madeline wasn’t going to go for it. She’d think I was some sort of creeper putting the moves on her. I rounded the refreshment shack, half hoping she wouldn’t be there.
She was leaning against the wall, scrolling on her phone, her long blonde hair catching the afternoon sunlight. Her eyes were gazing downward, but I knew their exact shade of blue. I knew how they lit up when she was eager and made her whole face glow.
She looked over and saw me. “So, what’s up?”
“My mother’s suspicion level.” I rocked back on my heels nervously. “We need to take things to the next level.”
“Uh-huh.” Madeline folded her arms, her expression cool and questioning. “You said you wanted to discuss ways I can be a devoted girlfriend. If your ideas involve foot rubs, I’m going to demand equal time. Just putting that out there before you suggest anything.”
“Okay.” I couldn’t help my grin. “If you’ve spent the day contemplating giving me massages, it’s time well spent. We can add it to your to-do list.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I never should’ve told you that you were hot. You’re already too full of yourself.”
“Part of my charm.”
“Mm-hm.” She leaned around the side of the refreshment shack, checking to make sure we were alone. I didn’t bother tolook. The refreshment shack stood between the practice field and the playing field. My teammates would change in the locker room and then congregate on the practice field, not come over here to see if anyone might be talking on the other side of this little building.
“Before you get to your suggestion,” she said, returning her attention to me, “I have one of my own. We need some selfies for authenticity.”
One more couple-thing we’d forgotten to do. “You’re right,” I said.
