Rolling Dice (22 page)

“Madison, come on,” he says, and I feel his hand on my shoulder. “Dice, you know I
didn’t mean it in a bad way … it’s just—I’m sorry.”

Too little, too late
, I want to tell him, but I’m afraid that if I open my mouth I might end up crying. So I fumble with the latch on his front door and shove my feet into my Converse. My grand exit is losing its effect since I can’t storm out, but I don’t care. I just want to leave.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, following me down the road. “You know I’ll just follow you the whole way home.”

I stop then, and turn back to him, hiking my backpack higher onto my shoulder.

I’m about to argue when he pulls me into a bear hug.

It’s awkward and hesitant. He’s towering over me and I lean my forehead onto his chest, looking down at our feet. My thudding heart gradually returns to its normal, steady
thump-thump, thump-thump
.

“Okay?” he says quietly.

“Hugs don’t make everything better.”

“They make most things better,” he argues. “And sometimes you just need a hug.”

“I’m going home,” I tell him.

“All right.” Then, “I
am
sorry.”

“I thought sorry didn’t make everything better?” I can’t help but crack a tiny smile at my own joke, and he shakes his head at me, chuckling quietly under his breath. “Okay.”

He nods. “Say hi to Jenna for me tomorrow.”

I smile hesitantly. “Will do. See you, Dwight.” And with that, I carry on walking home, because even though he’s apologized, I just can’t stay.

Jenna doesn’t shut up the entire weekend.

It’s nice to have her back. It’s almost like old times, but it’s so different. Not because we’re in Florida now, and she’s a seasoned college student—at least in her eyes. But because she’s interrogating me about things and making me talk, rather than us talking mostly about her. Despite our talking a couple of times a week on the phone or over Skype, she still wants to know absolutely
everything
about my new life here.

Her boyfriend, Henry, is really nice. He’s a total gentleman—pulling Jenna’s chair out for her at dinner, showing up with some flowers for our mom, putting up with all the questions—Dad is clearly trying to work out if he’s good enough for Jenna. He totally wins Dad over by helping him fix the printer, which has been broken for about three weeks now.

We’re going to some fancy restaurant for dinner, and the doorbell rings when we’re getting ready. I don’t know who it could be at this time, but then I hear Dad shouting, “Dice, it’s for you!” and I sigh, trying to fix my earrings as I go down the stairs. Maybe it’s Tiffany or Summer.

It’s not.

It’s Dwight.

“Oh. Hey.”

“Who is it?” Jenna yells down the stairs.

“Gentleman caller for Madison!” Dad yells back, and winks at me, laughing at his own terrible “joke” as he goes back to the kitchen.

I tug at my black skirt uncomfortably. I’m wearing a thin green blouse with a low neck and three buttons at the top of the neckline. It’s pretty, and not exactly my thing. But Mom and Jenna suggested I wear it, so I gave in and wore it to pacify them.

“What’s up?”

“You left this,” he tells me, holding out the blue hoodie I took to his house yesterday. It’s one of the ones I like to curl up in at home, so I’m glad he brought it back. I didn’t realized I’d left it behind—my mind was too preoccupied yesterday.

“Thanks,” I say, smiling, taking it from him. “But you didn’t have to come all the way over here. You could’ve just given it to me Monday.”

“I wanted to say sorry again, though.” He smiles sheepishly, and scuffs his toes against the welcome mat. “I was being a jerk.”

“Just a little. It wasn’t just you. I overreacted a bit too. Sorry. It’s fine, though.” Because I knew he meant it when he said he was sorry.

“You had every right to overreact—don’t worry about it. But, uh, I kind of wanted to check up on you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I just felt like I should. The hoodie gave me an excuse.”

I laugh, and hold it up. “Well, thanks. And I’m fine, really.”

“Good. And hey, I just—I never said thank you, for yesterday. For making me go up to the tree house.”

I smile at him. “What’re friends for, huh?”

Someone comes crashing down the stairs, and all of a sudden Jenna’s leaning over my shoulder. “So you’re Dwight. Hey! Great to meet you.”

“Hi,” he says, with a nervous laugh. “You must be Jenna.”

“Yup! Well, I just wanted to say hi. Bye!”

She’s gone again, and I can’t help but laugh.

“I’ll get going—I can see you’re all heading out somewhere. You look really pretty, by the way.”

“Oh.” The compliment catches me totally off guard, and after a second or two I break into a huge grin. “Thanks.”

“See you, Dice.”

“Bye!” I call, and once he’s making his way down the street, I close the door. I turn around and jump out of my skin to see Jenna standing there in her dress, hands clasped behind her back as she rocks back and forth on her precariously thin heels.

“Don’t do that,” I say. “You scared the heck out of me.”

“So …?”

“So what?”

“So that’s
him
. He’s cute, in a nerdy kind of way.”

“Yeah, I guess.” I shrug.

“He doesn’t look much like a surfer.”

“That’s what I thought. Hey, do these earrings go okay?” They’re dangly silver spirals that Tiffany gave me a few days ago with a whole pile of other jewelry—according to her, I needed to improve my abysmally small collection.

Jenna nods approvingly. “Sure. So do you think he likes you?”

“As a friend,” I tell her firmly. “Don’t go getting any ideas that I’m in some sort of love triangle. I’m with Bryce, period.”

Jenna laughs. “I’m such a romantic.”

“To put it mildly.”

She laughs again and, for no apparent reason whatsoever, pulls me into a tight hug. “Oh, I missed my little sister.”

“I missed you too,” I tell her quietly, and hug her back just as tight.

Jenna and Henry leave first thing Monday morning, so I barely see them long enough to say goodbye and how nice it was to meet Henry since I’m rushing off to school. Summer and Tiffany are giving me a ride in this morning.

After the pleasantries of “How was your weekend?” Summer jumps straight into it, no beating around the bush.

“Have you picked your outfit for the party yet?”

“Um … I kind of, uh, forgot?”

“Like hell you did!” Tiffany snorts. “You’ve been putting it off ever since Bryce announced he was
having
the party!”

“Are you sure things are okay with you guys?” Summer wants to know. “Are you, like, avoiding the party or something?”

“No,” I tell her, “it’s not that. I just … don’t know what to wear.”

“We’ll have to go shopping Thursday. You guys have study hall after lunch, right?” Summer and I both give affirmative answers and Tiffany says, “Great! We’ll go then. Oh, and remind me I need to get some new lipstick. I keep forgetting.”

Everyone is at our usual bench except for Marcus and Kyle. Bryce stands up as soon as he sees me, and comes toward us. His fingers slip around my wrist and I let him tug me toward the school. I follow him inside the building, past my locker and up a staircase. We stand between the first and second floor, next to a huge window that overlooks the soccer field.

“Hey.” I pull the sleeves of my cardigan farther down so that the cuffs reach my knuckles.

He looks good, I think: he’s wearing a white tee under his letterman jacket that emphasizes his toned body and tanned skin. His jeans are slung a little low, but held up by a
thick brown belt.

“Madison,” he says, meeting my eyes, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” I reply, almost automatically, smiling. He texted me a little over the weekend, but only to say that he had terrible cell phone reception and that his grandma disapproved of him calling his friends when he was supposed to be spending time with the family.

Suddenly he yanks me close to him, crushing his lips to mine. It takes a moment to recover from the shock and kiss him back.

Then he pulls away and says, “I’ve been waiting to do that since I saw you get out of Tiffany’s car five minutes ago.”

I laugh. “That must have been so painfully difficult for you. Five whole minutes.”

“It was,” he says, so serious that I have to giggle. Then he pulls me in for another kiss, this one much softer, and the only thing that makes us stop is the sound of the bell telling us to head to homeroom.

He gives me another lingering kiss, though, and then says, “I’m supposed to go see my Chemistry teacher first thing. I’ll see you later.” He plants another kiss on my forehead, and leaves me there to head to homeroom, so I do.

I will the week to drag by, because I’m dreading going shopping for my Halloween party outfit. But if anything, time seems to go by deliberately fast. I don’t think it helps that I’m so busy—I have essays due in for Art and History, a Biology test on Wednesday, extra track practice Tuesday and Wednesday …

So on Thursday, when the bell signals the lunch period, I drag my feet to our picnic bench to meet everyone. We decided to eat lunch here before going to the mall. I’m not complaining; it’ll buy me time to think up an excuse to get out of it.

I listen to them talking about the big soccer match next Friday evening, only paying attention because I know I’ll have to go to it. I’m struggling to open a pack of Skittles … Today just isn’t my day, I think—and that’s when the packet tears apart and the candy flies everywhere.

“Ah, crud,” I mutter, seeing there are only two left in the packet and the rest of them are on the ground.

“Madison?” Ricky asks, leaning down the table to me. “Why don’t you swear?”

“Yeah, why don’t you?” Melissa asks me. “Swear, that is.”

I shrug one shoulder, then the other, and pop my two Skittles in my mouth. “I don’t know,” I say when I’ve swallowed. “I just don’t.”

“There’s got to be a reason,” Kyle insists, and I see now that they’re all curious. I guess it
is
kind of odd that I don’t cuss, but it’s never bothered me. I don’t mind when people swear; it’s just not something I do.

“I don’t see any need to, I suppose.”

“Go on,” Adam says. “Say something rude. Swear.”

I roll my eyes, laughing him off.

“Say something,” Tiffany puts in. “Go on, Madison.
Crap
. That’s barely even a swear word. Say
crap
.”

I shift in my seat. “No. I don’t see why I should.”

“Oh, live a little!” she laughs, and I squirm a bit in my seat.

“Come on, guys, lay off her,” Bryce says, speaking for the first time. He bumps his knee against mine under the table and kisses my temple. “I think it’s cute that you don’t swear. It’s too mainstream, anyway.”

I laugh at that, and I don’t even realize how tense I am until my shoulders relax. He tucks a loose bit of my hair back, and I lean into his touch for a moment, silently conveying how grateful I am to him.

“Well, I guess we’d better get going,” Tiffany says, crumpling up her Doritos packet in her delicate, manicured fist. “Hey, Bryce, what’re you wearing for the party?”

He shrugs, making some unintelligible grunt that we all translate as “I don’t know.”

“Great. Thanks, sweetie, you’re so helpful.”

Bryce frowns, looking bewildered. “What’d I do?”

“Never mind,” Tiffany laughs. Summer swings herself off the end of the bench and gives Marcus a quick kiss goodbye. Melissa tells us to have fun, and I go to give Bryce a kiss on the cheek, but he catches my lips instead.

As I buckle my seat belt, I try not to think how much I’m dreading this trip.

I know what kind of clothes they’ll pick out for me—skimpy, sexy things that barely cover my butt. Exactly what I don’t want to wear.

But these girls aren’t used to getting no for an answer, and I know that when they do, they won’t readily accept it. They’re my friends, sure, but that doesn’t mean they’re not just a little bit spoiled and overconcerned with appearances.

Once we’re at the mall, they make straight for a costume store, but move past the tacky outfits at the front to the pricier section.

“How about this?” they keep asking, pointing. “This would look so hot on you. Oh my gosh, wouldn’t this just look awesome with really bright red lipstick? Hmm … this one wouldn’t work, not with your haircut.”

I reject everything they suggest, either not liking it or knowing I won’t feel comfortable in it. I’m sorely tempted to turn up in jeans and a T-shirt, because I really don’t care. It’s just Halloween. I don’t see what all the fuss is about. You get a bowl of candy for all the cute kids dressed up in costumes and maybe you watch a scary movie.

Tiffany sighs, completely exasperated with me. “Madison, you have to pick
something
! You can’t
not
dress up, it’d be ridiculous!”

“Come on,” Summer tries to coax me. “It’s so much fun!”

“Unless you were planning on turning up naked and making some kind of statement against the commercialization of the holidays,” Tiffany laughs.

“Bet Bryce would love that.” Summer winks, and they both giggle. All I manage is a weak smile that I’m sure is more of a grimace.

“Come on, seriously, you have to pick something,” Tiffany chides. “I am not letting you turn up at this party in your jeans, because I know that’s what you’re planning on doing, Madison.”

I laugh at that. “Just give me a minute to look, okay? I’ll … I’ll find something. You guys go ahead. I’ll find you later.”

They exchange a wary glance. I know neither of them trusts me to get a stop-in-your-tracks-sexy outfit like they’ve chosen.

“Really,” I say, hoping they can’t hear the hard, impatient note seeping into my voice. “I’ll call you when I’m done. I won’t be too long, I swear.”

I wander around the second floor of the mall a little until I finally find a little black and purple window display that catches my eye.

Inside, I find exactly the kind of outfit I’m looking for.

I can’t help but grin as I thank the shop assistant and my fingers curl around the plastic handles of the carrier bag. It’s perfect. Utterly and completely perfect.