Home > Popular Books > Betting on You(42)

Betting on You(42)

Author:Lynn Painter

Shit, shit, shit, what the hell have I done?

“Relax,” Charlie said as he looked for a parking spot. “I can almost hear your internal freak-out.”

“Because this was a terrible idea,” I said loudly. “What the hell was I thinking?”

“Breathe,” he said, and when I glanced over at him, something about the reassuring look on his face made me calm down just a little. “It’s going to be fine.”

“I doubt it,” I said, nodding, “but I’m going to go with that.”

As he drove in the direction of the condo, I realized that Charlie—Charlie Sampson, Mr. Nothing—had made me feel calm. Yes, we were becoming better friends, but certain moments felt bigger somehow.

He found a parking spot across the street from the condo, and after ten minutes of panicked breathing, I unbuckled and got out of the car.

“Wish me luck,” I said, my hands shaking.

“Good luck,” he sang in a silly voice. “Don’t fuck it up, Glasses.”

“Shut up,” I sang right back.

After I walked around to the back of the building, I found their door—unlocked—so I pushed it open and stepped inside. “Hello? Mom?”

I walked through what appeared to be the laundry room and into the kitchen, which was all unfinished rustic wood, and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

The condo was incredible.

The living room had high ceilings with big wood beams, and one entire wall was a stone fireplace that happened to have a fire burning inside of it that very minute. The furniture was brown leather, and the place felt like a ski chalet.

I loved it.

“Bay?” I heard my mother yell from upstairs. “Is that you?”

“Yep,” I yelled back, my momentary distraction giving way to the nervous fear that’d been there first. “We just got here.”

“That was fast,” she said, and I heard her feet coming down the stairs. “I can’t believe you’re here already.”

She hopped off the last step and grabbed me in a hug, and I could almost feel how relaxed she was. Guilt washed over me like a wave as I realized I was about to ruin that, and I rambled, “We actually left earlier than planned because we didn’t want to do the mountain roads in the dark.”

“Good idea.” She glanced behind me and asked, “Where’s Nekesa?”

“Yeah, um,” I said, grabbing her elbow and pulling her closer so we could talk quietly. “About that. There was a slight change of plan.”

“What happened?” she asked, looking worried.

God, I was such a piece of shit, because my mother looked super concerned about the welfare of everyone when I was about to spring an unwelcome surprise on her. I looked at her raised eyebrows and big blue eyes and hated what I was about to tell her.

“Well, um, Nekesa got grounded last night and couldn’t come. I didn’t want to drive here all alone,” I said, so nervous that every word was hard to say, “so I brought a different friend.”

“Oh?” She still looked happy and chill. “Who?”

Clearly she was waiting for me to say someone who was a girl and also not her boyfriend’s least favorite teenager.

I swallowed and forced myself to say it.

“Charlie,” I said, keeping my voice low as I looked behind her for any sign of Scott. “I brought Char—”

“Charlie?” Her eyes got huge and she said, “Are you freaking kidding me?”

“I didn’t know what to do when Nekesa canceled,” I replied, talking fast. “I didn’t—”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said, pointing her finger at me as her voice got higher and louder and her mouth tightened. “You have a phone—that I pay for. You should’ve called me. Don’t pretend this was somehow your only option!”

I tried talking in a calm voice. “But Charlie’s my friend and has a reliable car. Is it really that different from Nekesa?”

“Yes!” She crossed her arms and started pacing. “It’s bad enough that you brought a boy—any boy—with you. You’re too smart not to know that would matter. But not only did you bring a boy, you brought the boy that Scott hates on Scott’s vacation—are you kidding me with that?”

“I know,” I said.

“That is seriously rude,” she said, almost yelling. “In addition to everything else that’s wrong with this plan, it is rude and entitled. Oh, I guess they’ll just have to go along with what we want. How can you be so okay with behaving like that?”

My cheeks were hot and I felt like total garbage, because she was right. “I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head fast, pissed off. “Save it for Scott.”

“Where is he, by the way?” I asked, realizing that if Scott were there, her yelling would’ve brought him to the room.

My mom stopped pacing and chewed on the corner of her lip. “He ran to the market.”

I watched her face as she tried working through it, and I hated the twisting guilt I felt at the sight of her jaw clenched.

“I mean, he’s here now—can’t we find a way to make it work?”

She gave her head another angry shake, like she couldn’t believe this was happening. “File that under things Bailey and Charlie were counting on.”

Not wrong, I thought.

“Okay.” She dropped her arms to her sides and said, “Here’s the plan. You’re going to get out of here, and I will tell Scott when he gets back.”

“So… do you want us to just wait in the car, then?” I asked.

“Bailey, I don’t care where you wait,” she said, mom-glaring me so hard that I felt her stare in my guilty soul. Her teeth were clenched as she said, “Do you know how mad I am at you right now?”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” I said lamely, wishing there was a way for her not to get hurt by this.

“That means nothing today.” Her eyes roamed all over the condo, like she was looking for an answer, and then she said, “Just go drive around or something.”

“We can do that,” I said, nodding, anxious to please her.

“And then I’ll text you when you’re good to come back,” she said. “Not that I’m looking forward to that enjoyable reunion.”

“I’m so sorry,” I repeated.

“Spare me,” she said, still looking mad but intent on her plan. “Now get out of here.”

I wanted to cry—seriously—because I hated her being mad at me.

Especially when I knew I deserved it. I left, feeling like a trash human, and Charlie was standing behind his car with the trunk open when I crossed the street.

“Hey,” I said.

He looked up and smiled. “Hey.”

“My mom is so pissed,” I told him, my stomach heavy with dread and guilt as I kept seeing her angry face.

Ugh—her disappointed face.

I walked over to where he stood, and after he closed the trunk, his big, warm hand found mine.

My eyes shot up, jolted by the feel of his fingers linking around mine, and he stepped a little closer. “I was thinking. It’s probably time we start this whole charade, right?”

 42/79   Home Previous 40 41 42 43 44 45 Next End