Chapter Eight

Bailey

When the movie credits roll, I feel…I don’t know how I feel. Confused? Annoyed? Twice in two nights, Alex and I had weird moments when we were close enough to kiss. The first lasted for less than a second, but the one tonight… That one lasted long enough to trigger thoughts I definitely shouldn’t have. Long enough for me to imagine them actually happening.

Kissing Alex, in my imagination, is amazing. Like, think of the best movie kiss and up the heat by about 95 percent. I kissed a few boys back at my old school, but those kisses were less than stellar.

In reality, Alex could be less than stellar. In fact, not kissing him could be the best thing that ever happened to me. Yes. I like that. Let’s go with that.

It doesn’t help that I’ve been stuck next to him on this loveseat for two hours and we’re watching a French film about a girl looking for love. Amelie is a classic.

“Well, Alex,” Mom says as the movie ends. “You’re welcome to hang out for a while longer. I gotta get this one to bed.” She laughs and touches Mr. Banfield’s arm. He’s sound asleep in his recliner.

“What? What? How’d it end?” Dad comes back to life, and we all laugh, including him.

“Honey, I’ll catch you up tomorrow,” Mom says to him.

Yes, please go to bed, I try to send her a mental message. I’ve reached my limit for family bonding for the night. “We need to go get my car,” I say. “Alex?”

Alex stands up. “Yeah. Thanks again, Mrs. Banfield. Dinner was so good.”

“Thanks for chopping the chocolate,” she says. “I’ve never had pot de crème, but I think that one was probably the best ever.”

“Totally agree,” he says, shamelessly kissing up to her.

Only I know that Alex has probably had pot de crème in some actual French restaurant, probably in France. There’s absolutely no way what he’s saying is true.

“Alex.” Dad stands up and puts out a hand. Alex shakes it. “Good to meet you. You seem like a nice kid.”

“Thanks. It was nice meeting you.”

I hold back a groan as my thoughts twist into a pretzel. Why does this feel like they’re meeting my boyfriend? We have to get out of here.

“I need to grab my keys,” I say and hurry off to my room while my parents finish gushing over Alex. By the time I’ve got my phone off the charger and throw on a light jacket, he’s there, in my bedroom doorway.

Something bad inside of me switches on like a floodlight. It’s too bright, and I’m suddenly achingly self-conscious and aware of how ridiculous this tiny room must look to him. “Come on, let’s go,” I say with a shake in my voice. Instead, he steps inside. You actually can’t take many steps inside of my room, so he’s limited to how much farther he can come. All I know is, I want to leave.

“I’m ready,” I say.

“Hang on.” He’s scanning my walls, where posters of my favorite movies hang. I try to stand in front of the goals list I’ve hung on the wall next to my bedside table, but now he’s looking on my narrow bookshelf, where I have all of my camera equipment arranged neatly.

“What’s this?” He picks up one of my treasures.

“It’s a Brownie. Eight millimeter, from the 50s. It was my grandpa’s.” I step toward him. “Be careful.”

He glances up at me and grins. “I will. Do you ever use it?”

“Yes, sometimes.” I take it from him and place it gently back on the shelf, which makes him laugh, for some reason.

By the time it’s back in its spot, he’s turned around and is reading my goals. Shit. I remind myself that this is Alex. It’s okay, probably, but that doesn’t mean it’s not scary.

“Let’s go, Alex. Come on.”

He ignores me. “An Oscar by the time you’re thirty?”

When his eyes meet mine, I can’t tell if he’s making fun, but I think he must be. I know how this must look to him—our little trailer house, this bedroom that’s smaller than any closet in his mansion, my dreams, written up in multi-colored Sharpies and tacked to my wall. “Yes.” I bring myself back to the question. “If you don’t set goals, you don’t get anywhere.” That’s a lesson he could stand to learn, but I don’t bring that up.

He shakes his head and laughs. My breath catches.

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not,” he says, his eyebrows drawn together. “Come on. I wouldn’t laugh at you. I mean, I’m impressed.”

What in here could possibly impress him? “Right.”

He sits down on my bed and leans back on his hands. The sight of him on my bed, that look on his face and an eyebrow raised in question, makes my cheeks go hot. Oh God, this is getting out of hand.

“No, I mean it,” he says. “You’ve got a plan. I believe you’ll do it, too.”

My throat constricts, and I force myself to swallow. “I will do it.” I stare down at him, and I feel a different kind of constriction, like a force pulling me toward him. A force that I definitely need to punch in the throat.

That smile, though. That irresistible, you-know-you-want-me thing. “Can we go, please?” I hold up my keys in a desperate attempt to remind myself that I must resist, that I do not, actually, want him.

We leave and drive in mostly silence. I spend the time coming back down to reality. That moment there in my room felt weird and way too intimate. This is better. When we get to his house, he puts the car in park, and we sit in the dark. It’s only nine, fairly early for us, but we both know that he needs to go inside. His parents are probably pissed that he blew them off.

“Thanks,” he says, “for letting me come.”

“I’m sorry I made such a big deal out of it. They aren’t all that bad, I guess?”

He doesn’t say anything.

I laugh, suddenly unsure again. “Or maybe they are?”

I turn my body toward him, but it’s too dark to read his face.

“No,” he says. “Your parents are great. They’re just like you. Well—not just like you, but it’s cool to see who you came from. I had an awesome time.”

The self-conscious lightbulb that turned on back at the house switches off. This is Alex. He’s not mocking me or judging me. He’s completely attractive and sexy, yes—I’m mature enough to admit that—but the best thing, the most important thing about him, is that he’s my friend. Honestly, it did seem like he fit in with us, as different as our families are. It felt comfortable and easy.

“Yeah,” I say. “Me, too. You really are good with parents.”

“I told you,” he says. “I think even your dad was warming up to me.”

I smirk. “Well, I wouldn’t go so far as saying he likes you or anything. More like he thinks you’re tolerable.”

“I’ll take it, Raven Girl,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Ugh. Dooonnn’t.”

We both laugh, then sit for a few minutes longer in the silence, car engine off, no music, no talking. Just us, breathing from our toes. Just friends.

“So,” he says. “Only a few more days until promposal-geddon.”

“Yeah,” I say, feeling strangely irritated that he brought it up. “I know.”

“Good.”

“Good.” I reach for the door handle and open up. He reaches out his hand and touches my arm.

His fingers are warm, almost pulsing on my skin. His touch is the last thing I need right now. “What?”

“I’m…I’m really glad I met you in that express lane Bailey Banfield.”

His voice is soft, but strong and deep. I totally get why so many girls fall all over him. It’s not hard to understand. And I’m lucky. I think of all those girls, who as far as I can tell mean nothing to him, and feel a sense of relief knowing that I do mean something.

“Me, too, Alex Koviak,” I say. “My parents are worried that I don’t have enough—or any—friends, really. So tonight helped, I think. And my mom wants to marry you. So there’s that.”

“If your dad ever splits, I’d consider it.”

“That’s a disturbing thought.” I step out of the car and walk to mine. “Bye, Alex.”

“Night, Bails.”

I get inside and start the ignition, probably waking up the whole neighborhood. I had a good time with him tonight, too good of a time, but all will be well when I ask Caleb to the prom. I need it to be, because I refuse to lose what Alex and I have.

When I drive off, Alex is still standing in front of his door, watching me go.

I had a restless sleep, and I’m only semi-conscious by lunch as I make my way to the library to do my Pre-Calc homework. I need to get it done because I’m working at the coffee shop til close tonight, and I have three tests Wednesday that are going to kill me. It’ll all be worth it someday, I tell myself.

When I push through the glass library doors, I know that I am not going to get any homework done today. At a table, just inside, are Alex and Caleb, books open in front of them.

Shit, shit, shit. This shouldn’t scare me as bad as it does, not if I’m promposing to this guy in a matter of days. From atop a cow. Alex promised to set up a meeting for us, and this must be it. He looks up, like he’s been waiting for me, and waves me in.

I’m so not ready for this, but I breathe deep and pull the door open.

“Hey!” Alex fails miserably at library voice. Caleb seems a little lost, but then he looks at me and smiles, which gives me a little bit of courage. I smile back and walk to the table.

“Hey, Bails,” Alex says when I reach them. “How’s tricks?”

I don’t even know what that means. “Fine?”

“Do you know Caleb?” he says. He’s sending me messages with his eyes, like a blinked Morse code. Smile bigger, ooze sexy, be irresistible!

“Sort of. Hi?” My voice squeaks out in a higher pitch than normal. I sound like a mouse. Why do I sound like a mouse?

Caleb remembers me. I can tell when his smile shifts into something more intimate, something that excludes Alex. “Oh yeah,” Caleb says. “Coffee shop, right?”

“Yes, iced coffee, black, right?” I’m smiling big, oozing as hard as I can. It’s too much to do at once. “How are you?”

His eyes are beautiful and pull me in. That slightly tilted head, the crooked grin. He’s definitely got that classic movie leading man thing going on.

“I’m good, real good. As long as I don’t call you ma’am, I guess.”

Is this a classic meet-cute or what? Just like in the movies. I laugh, and he laughs, too, and poor Alex is lost. Good. He deserves it for ambushing me like this.

“Hey.” Alex interrupts our moment. “You here doing homework?”

My eyes flicker to him and back to Caleb. “Yes.”

“Then take a seat,” Alex says. “We’re going over Calc. It sucks.”

“Oh, no,” I say. “I don’t want to bother you guys.”

“Sit. Down,” Alex commands.

“Okay.” I’m hoping this doesn’t look so obvious, but when the Love Guru of Edinburgh High asks you to study and then invites a girl to join, I can’t imagine what else it could look like but a total setup.

Caleb is at the end of the table, Alex to his left. I take the seat to his right, opposite Alex.

My face is so warm, and my body feels awkward. Too long. Too big. Too everything. I wonder if my hair looks terrible or if my makeup is a wreck after all the yawning I’ve done today. My entire brain is a jumbled mess. Also, I can’t think of a word to say. Not one word.

“So, what did you get for number three?” Caleb asks Alex and breaks the silence. Right, we’re studying. I reach into my bag and grab a book.

Alex ignores the question and raises an eyebrow. “You coming to the game Friday?” Of course, this is directed at me.

I can’t stop my eyes from nervously flitting between these two. “The game? Oh, yeah, I do plan to be there.”

“Cool,” Alex says. “Caleb here is starting, and he’s on fire lately.”

“Oh, that’s—that’s great. Good for you! I will definitely be there, definitely for sure.”

I glance at Alex. He’s staring at me like there are horns sticking out of my head. I shoot him a scowl.

After a few more awkward seconds, Caleb coughs. “Look, I’m sorry, Kov, but I forgot I gotta go talk to coach about something. It’s important.” He closes his book and pushes the chair back. “Nice to see you again… I’m sorry, what was your name?”

“Oh,” I sputter. “Bailey?”

“Right, sorry, that’s what I thought, but he called you Bails, so I wasn’t sure.” He pushes back his chair and stands up. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

I’m pretty sure my jaw has unhinged and dropped to the floor, because my mouth is no longer working.

“Bye…” is all I can manage. The word hangs in the air of the hushed library as Caleb zips out like he really is on fire.

Alex swivels in his seat and faces me head on. “Well, that was for shit.”

I blink repeatedly and sit back in my chair. “Oh God, what was that?”

He throws up his hands. “Nothing. That was nothing. It was supposed to be you making an impression,” he angry-whispers. “By the way, you didn’t.”

I sit up in my chair and snap my mouth shut. “Wait a second. Are you actually mad right now? You totally blindsided me! He knew it was a set up. I wasn’t ready! Did you see how fast he ran out of here? Forget the whole thing. Forget it! I’m not doing it.”

Alex’s eyes grow big. “Oh no, no, you don’t,” he says. “You’re not backing out of this.”

I stare at him. “Alex! Did you see him leave? Talk about on fire!” I thrust out an arm toward the door. “Plus, I’m the one doing the promposal. If I don’t want to do it, I don’t have to.”

“But I got the—”

“The cow. Yeah, I know. Send it back.”

He huffs out a breath as I put away my book and push out of my chair.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

I stand up. “I’m going to a desk because I have real homework to do.”

“No. Wait. Stop.” He pushes back his hair with both hands. “Bailey. Come on, sit down.”

I sit, but I’m on the edge of the chair, ready to go. “I can change my mind, you know,” I say. “I thought it would be fun to go to prom with him, but he doesn’t even know me. He doesn’t even see me.”

“Bailey, come on, he knows you. Did you see the way he smiled at you? He might be a little freaked. Listen—you know my friend Nora?”

I shrug. “I know who she is.”

He nods. “Yeah. Well, Caleb was really into her just before she started dating my friend Eli. Caleb asked her out and got denied, and now he’s sorta gun shy, I think. I mean, I’ve tried to set him up with a few other girls, and that hasn’t gone well.”

My heart stops for a long second, and I narrow my eyes. “So, he thinks I’m the latest in a line of one of your setups? No wonder he ran away. Plus I’m not even his type.”

His nose crinkles. “What do you mean you’re not his type?”

I blow out a breath and stare at the table. It’s one thing to find the courage to ask a guy to prom; it’s a whole other thing to have him say no. I’m not sure I can handle that kind of rejection. “He liked Nora Reid. She’s gorgeous and super smart. If she’s the kind of girl he wants, I can’t compete with that.”

Alex leans forward on the desk. “What are you talking about? Come on, you are not giving up that easy. You’re right, you’re not Nora, you’re better. You’re wicked smart and way more fun than she is. And better looking. You’re going to the prom.”

Alex is a good friend. Maybe I could talk him into going with me. Maybe he’ll say yes out of pity, for the film project. Maybe it’s not too late. Of course, I’m not Alex’s type, either. “Thanks,” I say, “but you’re full of it.”

He laughs. “No, I’m not. Listen, put this whole experience out of your head. You’re right, I blindsided you, but don’t give up. He’s going to say yes. Have some faith in yourself. And you need the footage for your project, right?”

I inhale deeply and shake my head. “I don’t know if it’s worth it. This whole experience was humiliating. If this promposal is going to be a big pile of shit, I don’t want to do it, okay?”

“It’s not going to be a pile of shit. What it’s going to be is a pile of yes.”

I try to hold back a smile. It’s not easy. Alex has a way of making everything seem like it’s going to work out fine. That’s impossible. Not everything works out fine. Sometimes things end in disaster.

“A pile of yes?” I ask.

“Trust me.” He smiles. “It’s going to be a giant, steaming pile of yes.”

“Promise?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I promise.”

Then the smile I’ve been holding back erupts on my face. His confidence is like a virus, and for the moment, anyway, I’ve totally been infected.