by Sam Mariano
“I still have a weekend pass,” he texts back. “You’re mine for the whole weekend, and you don’t get to tell me no.”
My stomach jumps, my interest stirring.
A whole weekend pass.
No power to say no.
My heart starts to race.
I have to bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling.
“Fine,” I text back. “You’ve got a deal.”
“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”
I grin at my phone. “Thank you, Hunter. This was really nice of you.”
“You can thank me next weekend,” he sends back with a winking emoji.
“Oh, I will,” I assure him.
I still have a goofy grin on my face when Mom comes into the room.
“What’s going on?” she asks.
I try to temper my smile, but only a little as I look up from my phone and restructure the format of Hunter’s gift for my mom.
Obviously, I can’t tell her his actual terms.
She thought he was a touch manipulative when he enticed me to do things at 14, so this… this is not something she can ever know about.
That’s okay, though. It’s just between us, and I like it that way.
“Hunter has arranged a surprise for us. Yesterday at breakfast I was telling him how we’ve both been stressed and busy and not getting to spend much time together since school started, and, well, he likes to throw money at problems.” I hold up his credit card. “He wants us to go shopping today, on him.”
Mom blinks. “Shopping?”
I nod. “And a trip to the spa afterwards. He’s sending a car for us.”
“A… car?”
I smile. “I think it’ll be fun. Please say yes.”
She takes a moment to consider. “Hmm… I guess he does owe me a new outfit since I have to burn the one you wore to his house Friday night.”
I nod eagerly. “He really does. Maybe some cute shoes to go with it. And a purse. You’ll need a new purse.”
“To go with the outfit.”
“Naturally.”
“I’ve never gone on a shopping spree I didn’t have to pay for, but who hasn’t fantasized about it?” she says, still considering, but leaning heavily toward yes.
“And today, that fantasy can be real. He said we can buy whatever we want. The credit limit is stupid, so we literally don’t have to even think about it.”
She shakes her head, looking at the piece of rectangular plastic. “He’s just a kid. How does he have a better credit card than I do?”
“I don’t know, he’s got modeling money and his dad’s a prince or something like that.”
“The lives some people lead.”
“No kidding. So, can we do it?”
“You know what… what the hell?”
I brighten. “Yeah?”
“Fuck it, let’s go.”
“We only have an hour to get ready.”
“Then we better get our butts in gear.”
With that, we part, each of us heading to our own bathrooms to get ready for a whole day of being spoiled.
__
“Hey, Jeeves, can we make one more stop before we go home?”
The driver regards my mom in the mirror. “Of course, madam.”
I look over at her. “His name isn’t Jeeves.”
“I know, but he looks like a Jeeves and it just seems like it should be.” She looks in the rearview mirror again. “You don’t mind, do you, Jeeves?”
“Not at all, madam. Where would you like me to take you?”
After a long day of shopping and pampering, I feel floaty and relaxed, and more tempted than ever before to trade in my working girl status to be a professional girlfriend.
I won’t, but the temptation is real.
Professional girlfriend life is not terrible.
I wasn’t paying attention when Mom told the driver—his real name is Thomas—where to take us, so I’m surprised when we pull into Target.
“What are we doing here?” I ask, looking over at her.
“I want to buy a move-in present for Ray while we still have your boyfriend’s credit card. He wants one of those electric toothbrushes, but the one he likes is like $200, which is obviously an awful lot of money to spend on a toothbrush. But if Hunter’s buying….”
I shake my head at her. “Wow, you have really come around on his gift-giving tendencies, haven’t you?”
“Well, when it started I was worried he was trying to buy your virginity. Now you’ve given the damn thing to him, so he might as well pay.”
“I’m going to tell him my bride price is a toothbrush.”
“And all the shopping bags in the trunk. Don’t forget the shopping bags.”
The driver puts the car in park and gets out to open Mom’s door.
Instead of climbing right out, she looks over at me. “Are you coming?”
“No, you can just run in, I’ll wait in the car. I’m comfy. Plus, if I go, you’ll just talk me into buying more stuff.”
“That’s true, but do I want the store to have video surveillance of me using Hunter’s credit card? What if this is all an elaborate scheme to have me arrested for credit card fraud so he can whisk you off to his castle and keep you all to himself?”
“I don’t think he has a castle,” I say, as if that’s the only far-fetched part of the scenario.
She gives me a funny look. “What kind of prince doesn’t have a castle?”
“He’s not a prince. His dad was a prince, or… his dad’s dad was a prince? Someone somewhere down the line was a prince. I don’t know, we haven’t had enough time together for him to fill me in on his European adventure. Speaking of…”
“Uh oh.”
“No uh oh. I just wanted to tell you that since I don’t have to work next weekend, Hunter wants to know if I can spend it at his place.”
She blinks at me.
“Remember the toothbrush,” I tell her.
“The whole weekend. As in, sleep at his house for two nights without ever coming home.”
“Correct.”
She stares at me.
“But I’ll have my phone, we can text all we want. And he lives like five minutes away, obviously I can come home if I need to.” I gesture to her and say brightly, “And think of it this way—a whole weekend kid-free. Ray can stay over; it’ll be like a trial run of him moving in.”
She narrows her eyes.
“If it helps… I really want to go. And yes, we will have sex, but we would do that even if I didn’t get to spend the night. This way, we’ll get to have more quality time together, and it’ll be a lot nicer for me. I want to spend the night, I want to wake up with him in the morning. I don’t want to ‘wham, bam, thank you, man’ and get out of there. And I promise to make him buy condoms beforehand. We won’t be as careless this time.”
Mom sighs heavily.
Poor Jeeves stands there holding the door and pretending he can’t hear this conversation.
I give Mom my best puppy dog eyes.
“Fine.” She sighs again, much more dramatically.
“Really?” I flash her a grin. “Yay! Thanks, Mom.”
She narrows her eyes. “Just for that, he’s buying me another purse.”
With that, she gets out.
I smile as she sulkily heads into the store, then pull out my cell phone so I can text Hunter.
“How is the best non-boyfriend in the world doing tonight?”
“A little sore, but otherwise good. How was your shopping trip?”
I frown at the phone. “Shopping was amazing. The spa was heavenly. My mom is spitefully purchasing a toothbrush, then we’re heading home. Why are you sore?”
“I’m gonna need more details about this spiteful toothbrush purchase,” he tells me.
Since he evaded my question, I type it again. “Why are you sore?”
“I got into it with Sherlock at practice tonight, no big deal.”
My heart s
inks a little. “What do you mean, got into it? Like a fight?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Hunter… I really don’t think you should make him a mortal enemy over all this. I know what he did was shitty and his methods are certainly unorthodox, but I truly think he was trying to help you. I don’t think he had bad intentions. And to be honest, without his interference, there would have been no day pass. We probably still wouldn’t be talking. And my mom agreed to let me spend the weekend with you! None of this would be happening if he hadn’t brought me to that stupid party.”
“He kissed you. He MARKED you. I couldn’t NOT punch him in the face.”
I sigh. “Hunter.”
“Riley.”
“You need to be nicer to your friend.”
“Not when he kisses my goddamn girlfriend I don’t.”
This is not the right time to remind him I am not—in fact—his girlfriend. I know what he means, anyway, so I overlook it and type back, “You know it didn’t mean anything. I think you should talk to him. No fists. Use your words. Find out if he was legitimately looking out for you or he just wanted to make trouble. I really believe it’s the former. If it is, you need to let it go. Don’t lose a real friend over this. You don’t have many of those.”
“It bothers me that you’re defending him,” he tells me.
“I’m only looking out for you,” I assure him. “I have zero fucks to give about Ryden Sherlock myself, but I don’t want to see you alienate someone who truly cares about you, even if it’s in his own weird way.”
“Well, when you put it that way,” he writes back.
“Makes a lot of sense, huh?”
“This is why I’m dating a smart girl,” he tells me.
I bite back a smile. “Do you think if you slip in ‘girlfriend’ and ‘dating’ enough times, I’ll forget it’s not true?”
“It’s worth a shot.”
I grin. “I love you,” I tell him with a trio of emoji hearts.
“I love you too,” he texts back, emoji-free.
Chapter Forty Four
Riley
I get another flower delivery Monday morning.
Mom complains that we’re going to run out of places to put flowers, but I wave her off.
I put the flowers in my bedroom and read the card.
“My nightmares are usually about losing you. I'm okay once I realize you're here.” -Peeta
(You’ve made me quote my fictional nemesis. Good job.)
I laugh out loud at what he wrote in parentheses.
I can’t stop grinning as I walk the card over and put it on my dresser along with the others. I love every note he has sent me (and regret throwing away the flowers that one time without bothering to read his note because I was so hurt and angry) but this one might be my favorite.
I grab my phone and text him, “This was the best one yet.”
“Glad you like it. I thought twice about that one. Made me think about that fucker Anderson.”
I locate the little yellow emoji with a monocle and write back, “Who’s Anderson?”
“Oh, you’re such a good girl,” he tells me.
I smile and blush pleasantly even though he can’t see me, then I slide my phone into my purse and gather my things so I can head to school.
___
Even though the weekend was pretty amazing, I’m wary of returning to school on Monday.
I feel like Hunter and I fare so much better outside of school.
For instance, Valerie? She doesn’t even exist until I walk into this building. She’s a vague bad dream, distant and hazy, easy to forget after a day or two unless she keeps popping up.
At school, she’s there. Even though Hunter has relegated her to his shit list, even though she has lost her uncontested queen bee status, even though she’s not even allowed to sit at the lunch table that was technically hers (the biggest hit to her status), she’s still there.
As I leave the lunch line with my tray of food, I prepare to head to my usual table to sit alone, but I only make it a few feet before Hunter stops me.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” I say, offering him a little smile.
“Where are you going?”
I cock an eyebrow. “To my table?”
He shakes his head and nods in the other direction. “Come sit at mine.”
I hesitate, staying where I am instead of following him.
He turns back and frowns when he realizes it. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to,” I say apologetically. “I’m sorry, I know Sara’s sitting at the girls’ table now, but, honestly… I don’t like those girls. I don’t want to have lunch with them. I know it’s a nice offer, but I’d really rather sit alone. I brought a book and everything,” I tell him, holding up a used paperback copy of Hunger Games I picked up at a thrift store a couple of years ago.
Hunter frowns at it. “Where’d you get that? I never gave your copy back.”
“I know, I had to buy another. That’s why I don’t like loaning out books, by the way,” I say, lightly censuring his book borrowing manners.
“In fairness, I had to move to Italy.”
“There’s no excuse for not returning a borrowed book, Hunter.”
“You can impose a late fee, if you want. I still have it. I can give it back to you this weekend.”
I shake my head. “You can keep it now. I have this copy. And I’m going to read it while I eat, so…”
“I want you to sit with me,” he says. “Not with the girls. With me. Next to me. At my table.”
I blink at him. “But it’s the boys’ table.”
“You will not be stoned to death for sitting next to boys, I promise.”
“But… no girl ever sits at that table. Ever.”
“I’m aware. It’s my table. That rule was mostly to keep Valerie from trying to smother me.” He realizes immediately that mentioning her was not the right call, but rather than backpedal or apologize, he just grabs me around the waist and forcibly guides me over to his table. “Come on, you’re sitting with me. You can sit between me and Sherlock, how’s that?”
That gets my attention. “You didn’t banish him?”
“I decided to listen to my intelligent girlfriend and give him a chance.”
“Not your girlfriend.”
He ignores my commentary. “Now I’m relying on my level-headed, ‘words not fists’ minded girlfriend to sit between us and make sure neither of us gets suspended. See? I need you. You don’t want me to get suspended, do you?”
I roll my eyes at him. “That is a lazy manipulation, you just came up with it on the spot.”
He doesn’t point out that I’m following him, so it’s clearly working even if it is lazy, but I’m aware of it.
“This is going to be so awkward,” I complain.
“Because he kissed you?” Hunter asks, his tunnel vision leading him to believe I must be talking about lunch with Sherlock.
I shake my head. “Because I don’t like your friends, and the feeling is mutual.”
Hunter appears dismissive. “Nah, you’ll be fine. They’ll behave.”
Of course they will, because he’ll be sitting there with me, but it won’t mean they like me.
Oh well.
“Scoot down,” he says to someone I don’t know.
The guy promptly moves his tray, scoots down, and apologizes even though he has nothing to apologize for. He was sitting in an unoccupied seat.
Without another word to him, Hunter sits, leaving just enough space between him and Ryden Sherlock for me.
Sherlock looks up, cocking a dark eyebrow in surprise as I take a seat beside him at the table. “Well, this is a surprise.”
I nod at his bottom lip, which is split down the left side. “Nice lip,” I tell him.
Sherlock smirks, unperturbed. “I bit your lip, he split mine. Seemed fair.”
“Generous, even,” I tell him with feigned sweetness.
“Seems like it all worked out,” he says, glancing past me at Hunter. He looks right back, though. “In the moment, I kinda worried I set you up for more than I meant to, but it seems like you came out of it all right.”
“Undamaged and everything,” I assure him.
“And here at our lunch table,” he says, shaking his head. “We’ve never had a girl here before. We might not know how to behave.”
Hunter leans forward and looks down at Sherlock, wordlessly giving him some advice on how he’d like him to behave.
“Uh oh.” Sherlock cuts a mischievous look my way. “Your boyfriend’s getting jealous. I guess we should stop talking. Don’t want him to Hulk out again. He probably didn’t bring a change of clothes.”
I sigh, shake my head, and look longingly at the paperback on my lunch tray. “I could be reading right now.”
“A book you’ve already read,” Hunter points out.
“Still seems a better use of my time,” I tell him.
“Than talking to Sherlock?” he ribs, but almost good-naturedly. “I agree.”
___
The rest of the week flies by.
With Hunter’s friendship with Sherlock in the stages of repair after the party, my thoughts keep running back to Sara. She hasn’t made any effort to reach out to me, but I’m not sure why.
If it’s because she genuinely doesn’t care about our rift, then maybe our friendship wasn’t as lasting as I thought it was. Maybe it has run its course. Hell, maybe I was only her best friend because I was the only option. What else could I deduce from the fact that as soon as Valerie lifted the ban, Sara flocked to them and didn’t really look back?
I can’t deny that she’s not being the greatest friend right now, but I still think it’s because of Wally. I don’t believe he’s good for her. If he doesn’t really like her and she’s trying to believe he does, she’s going to get hurt.
I don’t know Wally’s deal. I consider asking Hunter to talk to him and find out where he stands—they are friends, after all—but it actually doesn’t seem like Wally and Hunter are as tight since homecoming. It’s nothing Wally has specifically done and nothing Hunter even seems to have noticed, but when he invited me to sit at their table during lunch, I noticed.