BETH
Scott and Allison’s bedroom is too gaudy for my taste. The curtains are blue silk and frilly things like flowers and paintings of flowers decorate every available space. The bed is beyond massive. Scott and Allison don’t have to go to separate rooms if they fight; they can roll over a couple times and be in different zip codes.
I sit on the overly cushioned chair in front of Allison’s vanity and watch as she pins the hair onto my head. I hate the updo, but I can’t complain. An hour ago, she dyed six stripes of temporary black color in my hair. Now my hair is an inch and a half of golden-blond at the roots, black flows over my shoulders, and black stripes even it out. “Scott is going to be pissed.”
“Yes,” she says. “He is, but I’ll deal with that.”
My lips curve and when Allison catches it in the mirror she smiles too. We’ve had an uneasy truce since I came home from the hospital and sometimes I’m scared I’m going to say the wrong thing and send her over the edge. “Why are you being nice to me?”
Allison lifts the curling iron again and shoots me a glare when I fidget. She twists a few strands that refuse to be a part of her plan. “Because Scott loves you.”
He loved me before, but that didn’t keep her from hating every cell in my body. Not like I helped. “I’m sorry I accused you of trapping him.”
The curling rod pulls at the roots of my hair and I bite my lip. She releases the hair and little ringlets dance on the back of my neck. Okay, I deserve the pulling—and the ringlets. Maybe now we’ll be even.
Allison sets the iron back on her vanity. “I’m sorry…well, I’m sorry. I didn’t want you here.”
I blink. That was blunt, yet honest.
“Scott told me about his past, but it was easy to pretend it was a story until you came into the picture. I prefer life clean and simple. You made Scott complicated.”
“Scott was always complicated.”
Allison spritzes hair spray on me. “I know that now.”
Scott clears his throat and both Allison and I turn to see him entering the room. I stand and Scott grins when he sees me in the black strapless dress with a skirt that ends at the knees. He frowns again when he sees my hair.
“I did it,” says Allison without a hint of guilt.
Scott’s eyes widen. “You did that?”
“You told her last weekend she could wear those God-awful shoes with her dress and I told you that you’d regret it.”
I fidget in my official Chuck Taylors. “I’m wearing panty hose.” That was a major concession on my part.
“You should put on a sweater,” Scott says.
“She’s not wearing a sweater.” Allison swats at him. “That would look wretched.”
“I don’t care how she looks. I care how much skin is showing.”
Allison leans forward and Scott kisses her lips. I glance away. They do this more since I came home from the hospital. Not just kissing, but kissing like they mean it. Kissing because they truly love each other. She steps out of the room and Scott shoves his hands in his pockets.
I resist the urge to scratch my healing temple. “She covered the cut with the makeup.”
“I noticed.” He gestures to my left hand. “How’s it feeling?”
I shrug. “Fine.” The black cast is temporary. Trent shattered lots of the bones in my hand, wrist, and arm. I’ll have to have another surgery in two weeks. My nondamaged fingers drum against my leg. I thought I could go without asking, but I can’t. “How did Mom’s court appearance go?”
Mom and Trent had preliminary hearings yesterday. I told Scott that I didn’t want to know what happened, but the curiosity is eating me alive.
“It’s okay to want to know.” He meets my eyes while I wrestle with the millions of emotions tugging me in different directions.
I nod and he continues, “She accepted the plea bargain and will be serving six years. Trent pleaded not guilty against his lawyer’s recommendation. The D.A. thinks they can get him to serve fifteen years.”
A ball of dread forms in my stomach and I sink back into the chair. “Then there will be a trial.”
Scott lowers his head. All of us had hoped to avoid this. “Yes.”
Ryan and I will have to face Trent again when we testify. I take a deep breath to calm myself.
“Did you talk to Mom?” I ask.
He shakes his head and I’m not sure how I feel about that. I’m not sure how I feel about my mom at all. Six years. My mom is going to prison for six years and I’m the one who put her there.
“You did the right thing, kid.”
“I know,” I say softly. I do know, but it doesn’t mean that it sucks any less. The doorbell rings and the dread starts to fade. Ryan’s here.
A good-natured smile settles on Scott’s face. “And Prince Charming awaits.”
“Hey, Scott?”
He motions for me to continue.
“How could you keep the heroin to yourself? I mean, that’s a pretty big secret. I know that you wanted something to blackmail me with, but it was heroin.”
Scott scratches behind his ear. “I was in the process of hiring private detectives to find you when your aunt called. When I got to the police station, there was no way you were going home with anyone but me. One look at your mom and I knew things were bad.”
He sighs. “She was so jumpy around the cops that I figured she was hiding something. I would have said anything I had to in order to keep you. But I never used the word heroin with you or your mom and I never went into your mom’s apartment. I guessed that she had a secret and I bluffed.”
And I sort of feel like an idiot. A happy idiot, but an idiot nonetheless. “Well played.”
He smirks. “I think so.”
* * *
At the two-minute warning, my hands begin to sweat, including the one in the cast. Indian summer in Kentucky has a strange way of making November feel like July. As we walk to the open field behind the scoreboard, Ryan holds my hand and he doesn’t seem to care it’s cold and wet. People yell and scream from the bleachers and the announcer informs the crowd that our team is at the first and ten—whatever the hell that means.
The other couples nominated for homecoming court stand closer to the lamppost, but I hesitate farther back and Ryan plays along.
“Gwen won’t bother you,” he says.
“I know.” He’s right. She won’t. Since Ryan and I returned to school, she’s been less than her normal stuck-up self, quiet and withdrawn. She apologized to both me and Ryan. I accepted it, but it doesn’t mean I have to like her or be near her. Perfectly groomed, Gwen stands off to the side of the group. I sort of feel bad for her. Guilt is a horrible emotion. I should know.
“We could go talk to Carly and Brent,” Ryan teases. “She’s a big fan of yours.”
I roll my eyes. “Carly and I were paired as lab partners today.”
“See, best friends already. Lacy will be pissed someone is encroaching on her territory.”
“That’s exactly what’s going to happen,” I say sarcastically.
“Carly’s nice.”
“She’s chipper.”
“Same thing.”
“Nice is nice. Chipper is annoying.”
“We should double-date with them.”
My eyes almost pop out of my head. “Are you kidding me? I’m about to walk out onto that football field and make a fool out of myself and you want me to consider double-dating with Mr. and Mrs. Chipper? Have you lost your mind?”
Ryan chuckles, then winks. “I just wanted to see you get aggravated.”
I wrinkle my nose. “You’re annoying.”
He lets go of my hand, slips his arms around my waist, and pulls me close to his strong body. “You’re beautiful.”
The corners of my lips turn up and I slide my right arm around his neck. “I miss touching you with both hands.”
“It’s weird seeing the ribbon on your other wrist,” he says.
I shiver when Ryan caresses the sensitive skin above my cast and rubs the small of my back. Joyous and devious warmth spreads throughout my body. “I never take it off.”
“I miss you in my bed,” he murmurs so only I can hear.
My smile grows and Ryan’s face reddens. “That’s not what I meant. I meant I miss sleeping with you.”
I know what he means. “It’s a little hard to slip out with a broken hand.”
He lowers his head to mine and his hold on me tightens. “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you better.”
“Ryan, no. I would have died if it wasn’t for you.”
“It’s over now,” he whispers against my mouth.
I expectantly part my lips for his kiss. “It is.”
“Mr. Stone. Ms. Risk,” calls the assistant principal. “A little more space between you and a lot more paying attention. It’s time for you to get onto the field.”
I deflate and wrap my hand on Ryan’s bent arm so he can escort me out underneath the glaring lights. I wanted Ryan to kiss me. I needed him to kiss me.
Over the PA system, our names are announced and Ryan leads me to the fifty-yard line. People yell and scream, the loudest cheers coming from the section where we left Lacy, Chris, and Logan.
“When you win,” says Ryan, “don’t forget you said you’d keep that tiara on your pretty little head all night.”
My eyes widen as I realize how I can get exactly what I want. We stop in the middle of the field and I turn to him. “Kiss me. Not just a peck. The real deal.”
Ryan glances around at the bleachers full of hundreds of people. “Excuse me?”
“I, Beth Risk, do double dog dare you to kiss me in front of all these people.”
Ryan’s eyes brighten and the arrogant smile that makes my heart trip over itself spreads across his face. “Are you forgetting dare etiquette? You have to dare before you can double dog dare.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine. I dare you to kiss me.”
“And if I do?”
“If I win homecoming, which I won’t, I’ll wear that damn tiara for a week straight.”
He cradles my face with both his hands. His lips whisper against mine and I ache for him to kiss me. My mind whines that he won’t do it, but then he nibbles on my lower lip. His mouth parts and the two of us move our lips hungrily in time with one another.
In between gasps of air our names are called as the winners. I feel Ryan’s lips tug into a smile before he says one word: “Can.”
* * * * *