The Boyfriend Bet (Boyfriend Chronicles #2) (13 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Grant

After school, Grant and I headed to the principal’s office together. Unlike last detention, we were ushered into Principal Stephens’s office, where he waited for us behind his desk like he was holding court. There were chairs but he didn’t tell us to sit.

“If there’s another incident of this nature between you two I will be forced to call in your parents. You know where to go.” He waved us toward the door. We made a quick exit and headed over to the table where we’d sat before. By the frown on the secretary’s face, I could tell her demeanor hadn’t improved. She pulled out the chicken timer, twisted its head around with a little too much enthusiasm, and then ignored us.

Since we were stuck I figured I might as well get some homework done. I could feel Grant staring at me while I did my math problems. Should I look up and smile at him? Maybe, maybe not. Let him wonder what I’m thinking, for a change. In my mind, I was mentally skipping through a field full of flowers, singing,
He likes me. He likes me. He really, really likes me.
In reality, I decided to keep things a little more low key.

Kissing me like that, on the quad in front of everyone, made us look like we were a couple. Something he claimed he didn’t want. So, my plan was to avoid any sort of relationship or girlfriend/boyfriend type talk. I could do cool and controlled, now that I knew he cared enough to land himself in detention to save my sanity.

It took forever for the dead chicken timer to go off.

When it did, I casually packed up my bag and headed for the door. No clingy girl here. Nope. Just a cool girl who liked a guy who was taking her on a real date this weekend.

“What are you smiling about?” Grant opened the office door for me.

“Detention is over. I finished my homework. Life is good.”

“Doesn’t take much to make you happy, does it?” He checked his cell as we walked down the hall. “I need to make a stop before I take you home. Is that all right?”

“Sure. Where are we going?”

“My grandfather wants me to pick up a book for him.”

We took the door which led to the side parking lot. Cold crisp air swirled leaves in mini tornadoes on the ground.

“What kind of book does he want?”

“He collects first editions of the classics. Something he’s been waiting for came in at Bibliophiles.”

“I’m guessing that’s some sort of bookstore.”

“Brilliant deduction, Sherlock.” He pulled out his key fob and pressed the button, which made the shiny black sports car beep and flash its lights.

“Is it one of those bookstores that has a cafe in it where I can buy an obscenely large cookie and a mocha latte?”

“No.”

I pouted, hoping he’d take the hint.

He shook his head and laughed. “Fine. We’ll get food. But we’re not eating in my car.”

Bibliophiles was like no other bookstore I’d ever seen. Most of the books were in locked cases. Those books that were set out on shelves had leather covers with the title stamped on the spine in gold ink. “I’m guessing they don’t have the latest New York Times bestsellers.”

“No. And it’s best if you don’t touch anything.”

I would’ve been offended if there was anything in the place I wanted to touch. While we stood at a counter in the back of the store, I peered around, searching for a price tag poking out from one of the books. None were visible which reminded me of the adage, “If you have to ask, you can’t afford it.”

A man in a suit greeted Grant and then disappeared into the back of the store and came out with a book wrapped in clear plastic. “The Mylar cover protects the book from your touch. Please handle it carefully, and keep it out of the sun.”

A book you weren’t supposed to touch. That was a new one.

Grant accepted the book like it was a glass sculpture. “Thank you. I know my grandfather will love it.”

I had a weird thought that in the future these books would be mementos of Grant’s grandfather. Books were nice, but I preferred something I could wear or keep with me all the time, like my watch.

Once we exited the store, I had two questions. “Where are we going now, and when do we get to the food part?”

Grant’s cell signaled that he had a text. He checked the screen and frowned. “My grandfather wants me to bring the book to him now.” He stared down the street. “There’s a deli nearby. I could drop you there and then come back after I see him.”

Was he trying to ditch me? “You don’t want me to go with you?”

He blinked and looked at me like I was insane. “You said you were hungry. I was trying to be nice.”

Lame excuse. “I don’t want to eat by myself.”

“Fine. You can come to the hospital with me.”

And now the deli sounded like a good idea. “He’s still in the hospital?”

“They’re running tests before they send him home. It’s no big deal.”

Was he trying to convince himself or me? “Maybe I’ll wait in the car while you run the book up to him.”

“Suit yourself.”

We drove to the hospital in silence. I told myself Grant was irritable because of his grandfather. His mood didn’t have anything to do with me. Fifteen minutes later when we reached the parking lot of the small private hospital, I’d
almost
convinced myself it was true. Time to suck it up and be a better person.

“I can come in with you if you want company. Hospitals can be hard to take some times.”

He turned the car off and sat there for a moment. “The last time I saw him, he was pale and hooked up to all these IVs.”

“He must be feeling better if he wants his book.” I squeezed Grant’s hand.

As soon as we stepped foot in the hospital, the smell of antiseptic, fear, and desperation hit me. I hated that smell. Breathing through my mouth I concentrated on being there for Grant. This wasn’t my tragedy.

When we reached his private room, Grant’s grandfather sat in a chair flipping channels on a flat screen television.

“You’re out of bed.” Grant sounded relieved.

“I told you the doctors were worried over nothing.” He spotted me and frowned. “Who’s this?”

Great. He disapproved of me on sight.

“This is Zoe.”

“You’ll have to excuse my appearance.” Grant’s grandfather adjusted his robe. “I don’t normally receive visitors in my pajamas.”

“It’s nice to meet you, anyway.” I remembered something. “I think you went to school with my grandmother, Monica Brooks.”

His eyes narrowed, and then there was a spark of recognition. “She was a lovely girl.”

The nurse came in. “Sorry to break this up, but it’s time for your grandfather to prove he’s ready to go home. We’re going to walk the stairs.”

“I’m up for the challenge, my dear.” Grant’s grandfather smiled at the nurse.

“I’ll put the book in your overnight bag.” Grant reverently tucked the book in his grandfather’s suitcase. On the way out the door, he stopped and took his grandfather’s hand. “Glad to see you’re feeling better.”

“You and me both.”

…

Zoe

The week settled into a comfortable routine. Grant and Aiden ate lunch with Delia and me every day, but they never mentioned the upcoming date.

“Why haven’t they said anything?” I asked Delia Thursday afternoon as we carried our trays across the cafeteria to the table where Aiden and Grant were already seated.

“I don’t know.”

“We need to know what’s going on.” It was driving me crazy. “I’m going to ask them.”

“Maybe we should give them time to say something first. Aiden is like a frightened rabbit reaching for a carrot. I don’t want to startle him away.”

“What part of you is a carrot?” I asked.

She laughed. “Yeah, that didn’t come out like I thought it would. New plan. You ask and I’ll play back-up.”

“Works for me.” When we reached the lunch table I sat next to Grant. “So where are we going on our double date tomorrow?”

He blinked, like he could have cared less. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

Not the answer I’d hoped for. I glanced at Delia, signaling she was up to bat.

“Have you thought about our date?” she asked Aiden.

He froze for a second. The rabbit metaphor was beginning to make more sense.

“My first response was going to be no.” Aiden studied Delia. “But I’m pretty sure that’s the wrong answer. So where would you like to go?”

“Well done.” Delia congratulated him. “We could go to a movie.”

Grant’s cell buzzed. He checked a text and frowned.

“Who’s that from?” I leaned in, but he’d turned off the screen.

“No one important.”

Why didn’t he want me to know who texted him? “Then why did you turn it off so fast?”

He pulled his phone out and handed it to me. “See for yourself.”

I should have handed him the phone back, not caring who texted, but I wasn’t that mature. Instead, I clicked on messages. Amber had invited him to a party. She’d added one of those stupid blowing kisses smiley faces. I gripped the phone tighter and checked the texting history. Ten messages came up from the past week. What the hell did she think she was doing? Amber chasing after him set the short fuse of my temper on a slow burn but I wouldn’t play the jealous girlfriend.

“Nice smiley faces. The next time I text you, maybe I should use fluffy pink bunnies.”

“From you, I’d expect shotguns or hedge clippers.”

…

Friday I met up with Delia and we went to the same spot where we’d met up with Aiden and Grant every morning this week. When Aiden spotted Delia, he smiled, like he was happy to see her. Grant didn’t notice my approach because he was talking to Amber. And she was touching him. She brushed her fingers across his arm as she talked to him. On the positive side, he stepped away from her. When he did, he caught sight of me and rolled his eyes.

She didn’t notice. Instead, she moved closer and touched his shoulder.

Why wasn’t Amber taking the hint? Should I tell her to get away from my boyfriend? Not that Grant was my boyfriend. He was just a guy I was going on a date with, or according to my brother, he was a guy trying to humiliate me in front of the whole school by making me the Ringer. I hated that Jack had planted that thought in my head.

Since saying anything about a relationship would be awkward, I decided to go with a more direct approach.

“Excuse me,” I said to Amber right before I squeezed between her and Grant, threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. At first, he seemed surprised, but he caught on to the idea soon enough.

“Miss Cain,” an authoritative voice called out.

Busted. I moved away from Grant and turned to see my first hour teacher, Mr. Fletcher.

“You know the rules.”

“Detention for both of us?” I asked.

He nodded and walked off.

Grant sighed. I grinned at him. “Sorry, had to be done.”

Amber muttered something under her breath and stalked off.

The day flew by. Before I knew it, I was in the principal’s office standing next to Grant. Principal Stephens was packing a briefcase. “You two are lucky. I don’t have time to call your parents today. In lieu of that punishment, I want you to write sentences during detention.”

He shoved two pieces of paper at Grant. “You know where to go.”

We shuffled over to the table. Grant handed me one of the sheets of paper. At the top was written “Principal Stephens will call my parents if I end up at this table again.”

Who knew the man had a sense of humor? It didn’t say how many times he wanted us to copy the sentence, so I wrote at a leisurely pace waiting for the dead chicken timer to go off. When it did, I tried to hand the sentences to the secretary.

“Why would I want those?” she said.

Okay. The woman needed some happy pills.

It took every ounce of self-control I possessed not to bug Grant about where we were going on our date. By the time we made it to his car, I was ready to burst.

“I’m impressed.” Grant opened the car door for me.

I slid into his low slung sports car, holding my backpack on my lap so I wouldn’t flash him. “Impressed about what?”

“You haven’t asked about the date.” He said this like he knew it was killing me and then walked around the car.

I let him start the car and put it in drive, before I commented. “What are we going to do?”

“Now that I think about it, detention and the ride home should count as the date. So once I drop you off, I’ll go home, call Aiden and see what he wants to do.”

“Faulty logic and bad plan.” I punched him on the shoulder. “Besides, Delia would not be pleased, and you don’t want us plotting against you.”

“I hate to tell you this, but you’re not that scary.” Grant pulled onto the highway. The speedometer needle edged above seventy.

“One, you’re speeding and two, you have no idea how scary we can be.”

He eased off the gas. “Right. What have you done?”

I grinned at one of my fondest memories. “You can’t repeat this to anyone. Understand?”

“Got it.”

“When we were kids, Delia and I set up a lemonade stand at the Fields Cross baseball diamond. Jack told everyone he peed in the lemonade, so no one bought any.”

“Did he pee in the lemonade?”

“I wasn’t going to drink it and find out because he might have. So, Delia and I didn’t sell anything, and we’d spent days painting signs and drawing on all the paper cups. That night, when we went back to my house, we put Nair in Jack’s shampoo bottle. The next morning, he took a shower and came out bald. No hair, no eyebrows, nothing. It was awesome.”

He sucked in a breath. “Ouch.”

I laughed. “It took him a month to grow back enough hair so that he could stop wearing a hat.”

“So the moral of this story is, I have to keep our double date or I’ll end up bald?”

“Pretty much, so what do you want to do tonight?” A movie sounded good to me, after everything else that happened today, I wanted to be low maintenance.

“Do you like air hockey?” he asked.

“Yes.” I rocked at air hockey but he didn’t need to know that.

“Let’s go to Edison’s.”

Edison’s was a combination restaurant and arcade, which had laser tag and video games. “That could be fun as long as you’re not one of those guys who has to win every game all the time. Because I like to win, too.”