Much Ado About a Boy

by Jeanette Lewis

  But how was I supposed to know? We’d just started our first drama class together, and before that, I’d only known Krista by name. We hadn’t really started to become friends until several weeks into rehearsals for Scarlet Pimpernel and homecoming had already happened.

  “So you like Bentley?” I asked.

  “No!” She said quickly, then flushed. “I mean, yes, he’s a good guy. But I only like him as a friend.” She pinched her lips together. “What I’m trying to say is it was my fault he wasn’t there for your homecoming date. He was helping me sort out my emotional baggage, and I asked him not to tell anyone. I didn’t know Tasha saw us at the Burger Bar. They didn’t even talk to us. Then he told me this morning that she’d told you and you thought …” She sighed. “It’s all mixed up and anyway, I’m sorry.”

  “So he just happened to see you at the Burger Bar and happened to realize you needed help?” I was still skeptical.

  Krista shook her head. “He found me at school. I was sitting by the lockers, didn’t want to go home. I was down by the drama room, not knowing what else to do and Bentley came by after the game. He was on his way to get you.” She passed one hand over her eyes. “I was a mess. So he sat down by me, and we didn’t even talk for a long time. He just stayed there. I … I’d taken a bottle of pills from my mom’s medicine cabinet. I don’t know if I’d still be here if Bentley hadn’t stayed with me.”

  My lungs felt like concrete in my chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I said.

  “I tried, a couple of times.” She flushed. “But I was embarrassed and I didn’t know you that well yet, and I didn’t want everyone to know.”

  “I wouldn’t have told anyone.” As soon as I said it, I grimaced. Truthfully, keeping secrets was not one of my strong points. I probably would have told at least Summer and Harper. Shame burned in my heart. I’d been so angry at Bentley, so sure I was the victim. “Why didn’t Bentley at least tell me the truth?”

  “I asked him not to,” Krista said. “I’m sorry. I should have seen how much it would upset you. But I’d hoped you’d forgive him because everyone could see how much you cared about each other. I didn’t think about how it would look to you.”

  All my sadness and anger evaporated as I leaned forward and wrapped her in a hug. “It’s okay,” I said. “I’m really sorry you’re going through tough times. Can I help?”

  “Thanks. I’m doing better now,” Krista said against my shoulder.

  “If you need to talk, I’m here,” I said. “I know I haven’t been. Sometimes I’m dramatic and too self-centered.” I pulled back from the hug and tried to smile. “But I’m working on it.”

  Krista laughed. “It’s okay. Just please don’t be mad at Bentley anymore? I’d feel terrible knowing I came between true love.”

  True love. My heart swelled and tumbled in my chest. Was that what this was? Maybe. But I’d almost blown it. I grabbed my silk flower off the bench. “I need to talk to him,” I said.

  She smiled and gave my shoulder a gentle push. “Go find him.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  I raced through the unfamiliar halls, searching for Bentley in the crowd of kids. Everyone was dressed in their costumes, and nervous tension hung in the air. I saw a few people I recognized from past competitions, but I couldn’t stop to say hello. I had to find Bentley. My phone was in the locker room, still dead, and I hadn’t charged it yet. I couldn’t even text him.

  I rounded a corner and instantly zoomed in on his tall figure leaning against a white painted wall. He was wearing black dress pants and a silvery gray button-down with a red tie. His hair curled against his neck, and one lock fell across his forehead.

  His eyes widened when he saw me. “Wow, you look great.” There was no smile to match the words.

  I was still holding my silk flower; I hadn’t had the time to fasten it in my hair. I clutched at the petals, suddenly aware of how rude I’d been. “Can we talk?”

  Bentley’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, so you’re talking to me now?”

  Okay, I deserved that. But my cheeks still warmed. “Please?”

  He gave a gusty sigh and jerked his head down the hall, where there was less of a crowd and a bit of privacy.

  “Krista just told me everything,” I said when we came to a stop.

  Bentley’s shoulders relaxed, and hope lit his eyes. “She did?”

  I nodded. “All about homecoming and you finding her in the hall and helping her out and how she didn’t want anyone to know.”

  He flushed. “I wanted to explain,but I promised her I wouldn’t tell.”

  The old Bailey would have picked that statement apart, would have wanted to know why Krista’s feelings mattered more than mine. But now, that seemed so childish. Of course her feelings should matter, and he’d done the right thing. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I should have been more understanding.”

  “I’m sorry too. For what it’s worth, I came by your house after I took Krista home. I wanted to talk, but all the lights were off, so I guessed you were asleep.”

  I shook my head. “I wasn’t asleep.” In truth, I’d stayed up all night, mostly feeling sorry for myself and raging at Summer and Harper via text over the lameness of boys. Bentley had been driving by my house, and I was lying in bed crying. “But you could have talked to me later. Why’d you avoid me all this time?”

  He shrugged helplessly. “It was just one of those things that seemed to build. And you were so mad, I didn’t know how to explain without breaking my promise to Krista. So I figured I was just a big, dumb doofus and I’d blown it and there was nothing I could do. It seemed easier to avoid you, especially since we all knew you were taking off as soon as graduation was over.” He scrubbed one hand through his brown curls. “I’m sorry, Bailey. I should have been honest with you. It’s just, you have so much going for you, and Krista … I mean, she was so broken that night. I thought between the two of you, you’d understand.”

  Shame burned through me. I hadn’t understood, not even a little bit. I had jumped to all kinds of conclusions and believed Tasha, of all people, when I knew she didn’t like me and always tried to stir up trouble.

  Bentley reached out and trailed his fingers up my bare arm, sparking a string of goosebumps. “So what do you think? Wanna start over? I make a mean Frankenstein mac and cheese and mayo.”

  I raised one eyebrow and pretended to think. “It was kind of good,” I admitted. “But I have to take points off for not liking pizza.”

  “I never said I don’t like pizza,” he protested. “In fact, I’ll take you out for pizza after we get back to Sweet Water. We’ll eat more pizza than you’ve ever had in your life.” He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my waist.

  My red flower trembled in my fingertips as I ran my hands up his chest and over his shoulders to rest at the nape of his neck.

  “So is that a yes?” Bentley asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  He smiled and his brown eyes sparked and then became blurry as he ducked his head to mine.

  “I’m wearing bright red lipstick,” I murmured the moment before his lips touched mine.

  “Perfect,” he whispered. “I knew this outfit was missing something.”

  My giggle was cut off as his lips met mine and my breath hitched in my chest. I tightened my grip on his neck, urging him even closer, and my heart felt like it would burst with happiness and butterflies.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I kept hold of Bentley’s hand as we walked to the front of the room and turned to face the judges. I’d thought we’d be in an auditorium, which would have been better, putting a buffer between us and the audience. But we were in a drama classroom with cinderblock walls, standing on industrial-grade carpet. The judges sat at desks in the front row, and behind them sat the rest of the competitors, other students, and a handful of parents. I was really glad my parents hadn’t come to see this. For a performance, sure, but seeing them out there during a competition would only make me more
nervous.

  Bentley made our introduction in a voice that was remarkably clear and carried through the room. He squeezed my hand before we turned our backs to get into character.

  I closed my eyes. This was it. The regional championship was on the line, and then potentially state, and then …

  But suddenly, nothing was as important as being with Bentley. I could call him mine, not in a creepy possessive way, but in the warm, familiar, comfortable way that proved we were meant to be together.

  I choose you and you choose me. Like Beatrice and Benedick.

  I opened my eyes and shot him a glance from the corner of his eye. I knew he was checking to see that I was ready. I nodded slightly, and we turned.

  Bentley had the first line and his voice carried through room, loud and confident. “If Signor Leonato be her father, she would not have his head on her shoulders for all Messina, as like him as she is.”

  “I wonder that you will still be talking, Signor Benedick. Nobody marks you,” I said. In our first rehearsal, my words had been laced with acid. Now they felt like honey, Shakespeare’s tongue twisters dripping richly from my lips. Bentley grinned, and the air seemed to crackle between us as we slipped into our first tango pose.

  The scene unfolded between us naturally, easily. Usually, I tried to visualize my surroundings and put my character into the right setting. The classroom was supposed to be a villa in Italy. The sun would be warm on my shoulders, and the rich scent of the vineyards would fill my nose. I wouldn’t be Bailey anymore; I’d be Beatrice.

  But now, the only thing I could smell was Bentley’s cologne. He wasn’t Benedick; he was Bentley, a boy I loved. I didn’t need to pretend, didn’t want to pretend, because real life was better than any play.

  We came to the end of the performance and assumed the final pose. “Peace! I will stop your mouth.” Bentley’s eyes gleamed and his hands slid around my waist, pulling me closer.

  I tiptoed, and then our mouths were coming together and everything exploded into daydreams and fireworks and I didn’t know anything until the crash of applause from the audience. We took our time ending the kiss, stopping just short of awkward. Maybe. I really didn’t care.

  Bentley’s hand slid into mine, warm and strong. He clasped my fingers tightly as we bowed, then he led me out of the room. We were supposed to take seats at the back and wait for our score, but I couldn’t protest even if I’d wanted to. My insides felt as light as a parade balloon, and the only thing keeping me anchored to earth was the tug of Bentley’s hand.

  He led me down the hall in silence, my heels tapping on the linoleum. When we reached an unlit hallway, he pulled me around the corner, into the shadowed darkness.

  “Is it just me, or was that awesome?” He whispered as his hands tightened around my waist. “I have a feeling we’re going to state.”

  “I don’t even care,” I said.

  Bentley’s eyes gleamed in the semi-darkness. “Sure,” he teased.

  “Okay,” I admitted, “I care. But not as much as I used to.”

  “Oh really? What changed?”

  I wound my fingers into his curly hair and pulled his head toward me. “Peace! I will stop your mouth,” I murmured.

  Bentley chuckled, then he ducked his head and our lips came together. I was lost in the sensation of kissing him and the dizzying realization of possibility and the promise of the future.

  I hope you enjoyed Much Ado About a Boy. Continue the Sweet Water High Romances series with Road Trip With the Enemy, by Kelsie Stelting, available for preorder here.

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  Books by Jeanette Lewis

  See Jeanette’s books on Amazon

  Lincoln’s Lost Gold Romances

  Love in Honor Given

  Tamarack Ridge Romances

  Loving the Mountain Man

  Charming the Mountain Man

  Taming the Mountain Man

  The Billionaire Bride Pact

  The Passionate One

  The Rebellious One

  The Adventurous One

  The Glamorous One

  The Ambitious One

  The Hopeful One

  Indigo Bay

  Sweet Illusions

  Sweet Whispers

  Snow Valley

  Feels Like Love

  Tin Foil Tiaras

  Love Coming Late

  Starlight Kisses

  Epperson Family Romances

  The Lucky Billionaire

  Horses, Hayrides, and Husbands

  Sweet Water High Romances

  Much Ado About a Boy

  The Passionate One

  “I, Erin Marie Parker, do solemnly swear, that someday I’ll marry a billionaire ...

  OR I will have to sing the Camp Wallakee song (with the bird calls) at my wedding.”

  The Camp Wallakee girls all ended up on the same row at the wedding. Erin Parker, the last to arrive, was greeted with a chorus of squeals and hugs. She took the seat at the end of the aisle and shifted to adjust the skirt of her silvery gray dress. After brushing her rose gold hair out of her eyes, she leaned forward and beamed down the row at her girls.

  It was as if no time at all had passed and they were kids at camp again—sharing care packages from home, riding the zip line into the lake, roasting marshmallows around the campfire, and telling creepy stories in the cabin with flashlights under their faces. Erin’s stories were usually the best, probably because she had the most authentic ear-splitting scream, which she liked to spring on them when they least expected it. She always had to tell her story last, because the resulting chaos would usually bring in a counselor who would yell at them to go to sleep.

  Erin looked again at the row of women sitting beside her. Okay, some things had changed. The scrawny, scabby knees were gone, as was most of the acne. And they’d all filled out—some more than others. Lindsey, beautiful with her enormous blue eyes and pouty lips; Taylor, still tall and skinny, but not all arms and legs anymore; and Holly, polished and perfect as always in her designer dress and expensive highlights.

  To her right, MacKenzie sighed. “Isn’t this beautiful?” she said to Erin.

  Erin glanced around. There was no denying that the West Laurel Hill Cemetery in Bala Cynwyd, Pennsylvania was a beautiful place. The grass was still green, despite the crisp September air, but many of the trees were wearing their autumn colors. The splashes of red, yellow, and orange created a nice contrast to the blue of the sky and the white and gray tones of the graves.

  The aisle between the rows of transparent chairs was a carpet of autumn leaves, ending at the Louis Burk mausoleum. Who was Louis Burk and why did he merit such a grand final resting place complete with Ionic Roman columns and a weathered copper gate? The engraving on the gate featured a sorrowful maiden in a melodramatic pose that brought a sweet ache to Erin’s throat. The bereaved widow? The grieving daughter? Maybe the anguished lover? Her mind churned with possibilities.

  The gloominess of the mausoleum was tempered slightly by the flowers in shades of cranberry, pale pink, and ivory that were banked along its wide stone steps. Erin had to admit it looked gorgeous.

  But still. “Who gets married in a cemetery?”

  MacKenzie laughed. “That’s Nikki. You didn’t think she’d pick somewhere normal, did you?”

  Erin couldn’t say. Nikki had always been a little quirky, but Erin hadn’t been privy to her wedding plans. In fact, she hadn’t known Nikki was even engaged until she got the invitation. They’d all tried to keep in touch over the years following camp, but some were better at it than others, and their contact had become less and less frequent as they got older and busier. Erin probably could h
ave remembered what each of her friends was doing now if pressed, but she’d have to think about it a little bit first.

  Which was part of the reason she’d been so excited for the wedding. Taylor’s wedding four years earlier didn’t count, because Taylor had eloped and hadn’t invited anyone. This was the first time most of the group had been together again, making it the perfect opportunity to catch up.

  “Do you know the groom?” Erin asked MacKenzie.

  “Not at all.” MacKenzie shook her head. “But I hear he’s loaded.” She elbowed Holly, who sat on her other side. “Isn’t that right?”

  “What?” Holly looked up from her phone.

  “Isn’t Darrin super rich?” MacKenzie repeated.

  Holly nodded. “I think he owns some kind of software company.”

  “Count it,” Erin smiled in satisfaction. “We never said it had to be inherited money.”

  “What are you talking about?” Holly wrinkled her perfect brows.

  “The Billionaire Bride Pact,” Erin clarified. “Remember?”

  “I remember,” MacKenzie put in.

  Understanding dawned in Holly’s eyes. “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.”

  Erin glanced at Holly’s left hand, where a diamond the size of a small Volkswagen glittered on her ring finger. “I guess it’s lucky you found your rich guy then,” she said, widening her eyes dramatically. “Or you’d get ... the consequence.” The Billionaire Bride Pact had been her idea—because of course it had—and the notion that anyone had simply forgotten about it rankled a bit.

  Holly gave her a small, tight smile. “I guess.”

  “Do you know what these chairs are called?” MacKenzie said amid the sudden tension. She tapped the seat of her transparent chair with her long, pink fingernails. “Ghost chairs. Appropriate, no?”