Much Ado About a Boy Page 8

  “Maybe,” I said. “Why?”

  “I think it’s really great,” Tasha said, her face a mask of innocence. “I mean, we all thought it was pretty gross the way he cheated on you at homecoming, so hey, if you can forgive and forget, good for you.”

  “Totally,” Olivia agreed, nodding enthusiastically.

  Everything went very still, and I could hear the blood rushing to my head. The Bailey in the mirror went pale, and my freckles stood out like drops of old mud on new snow.

  Tasha gave a peal of laughter that echoed off the concrete walls of the bathroom. “Oh, I’m sorry, you didn’t know?”

  “Know what?” I forced my stiff lips to move, to ask a question I didn’t want to know the answer to.

  “I saw him at the Burger Bar with another girl that night.”

  “You’re lying.” I glared.

  “I don’t think so.” She smirked and pulled her phone from her beach bag. Her carefully sculpted eyebrows furrowed as she scrolled with her thumb, then turned the screen toward me with a triumphant smile. “See?”

  I didn’t want to look, but I couldn’t help it. The picture was off center, taken from across the parking lot, but there was Bentley, unmistakable with his curly hair and crooked smile. He was sitting behind the wheel of his Toyota, and there was a girl in the passenger seat. Her head was down and I couldn’t see her face, but there was something familiar about her, something I recognized.

  My brain whirled frantically, trying to make the story fit my feelings. It could be a misunderstanding or maybe an old picture. Maybe the girl was his sister? But he didn’t have a sister. My heart ached.

  “Who is that?” I heard myself ask.

  “Really? You don’t even recognize your own two-timing friend?” Tasha said, a bit of acid in her voice. “And you can check the date. It was the night of homecoming.” She flicked to another picture, almost identical to the first, except this time the girl’s face was raised, visible in the light from the parking lot.

  I looked closer. “Is that … Krista?” I asked, my lips going numb. My mind flashed back to last week. She’d been crying at lunch and bolted away before Bentley could come meet us. She’d said she wanted to talk. Was this why?

  But this was homecoming, several months ago. Why hadn’t she said anything before then? And why hadn’t Bentley told me the truth?

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” I said, glaring. “You can change the date on pictures.” I wasn’t sure about that, but my heart hurt so much, I wanted so much to give Bentley the benefit of the doubt. An excuse, any excuse.

  Tasha flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Your loss,” she said. “But Jenny has a pic too, right?”

  Jenny nodded and pulled out her own phone. I felt numb as I stood there stupidly, watching her scroll until she turned the screen toward me. It was their group, the three girls and three boys, all dressed in formals, the pictures I’d seen online last fall when everyone was posting pictures of the homecoming dance. Back then, opening my social media was like pouring lemon juice in a fresh wound.

  It stung again now.

  “See, right there.” Jenny’s thumb zoomed in on the girl sitting in Bentley’s car. The girl’s face was clearer this time. It was definitely Krista.

  “Why?” I heard myself whisper.

  “That’s a guy for you.” Tasha smirked. “Two-timing creeps.”

  Was she trying to be sympathetic? I wasn’t sure. I dug my fingernails into my palms, determined not to fall apart in the bathroom at the beach and especially not in front of this group of girls. “I need to go,” I muttered.

  “Bailey, don’t leave,” Tasha said. There was a hint of sympathy in her voice, but underneath that, I caught the mocking tone. “We can talk about it if you want.”

  I spun on my heel and hurried out of the bathroom. The three girls broke into laughter, their taunts following me as I raced across the sand.

  My group was still around the fire. Bentley looked up as I approached and opened his arms to me. All of this looked like a joke now. Worse than the stagey set of a play.

  And like an idiot, I’d believed him. I’d fallen for this act when really, the joke was on me.

  “You were with Krista?” I said as I came to a stop at his side, just beyond his reach. “At homecoming? You stood me up and were with her?”

  There was silence around the fire, broken only by the popping of the firewood and the crackling of the flames. Summer and Harper fell quiet, and everyone stared at me.

  “At homecoming?” I demanded again, my voice high and tight. “You stood me up and were with her?”

  Bentley’s shoulders slumped and I knew Tasha and her squad was telling the truth. A rock formed in my chest.

  “Who told you?” Bentley finally asked.

  “Tasha,” I said, tipping my head toward the bathroom. “They had pictures of the two of you together.”

  “It wasn’t planned,” Bentley said. “Bailey, listen to me. It was … something came up and we ended up at Burger Bar, and then I—”

  “Did you know?” I whirled toward my friends. “Did you know what happened?”

  Harper and Summer shook their heads, confusion written across their faces.

  “No one else was there,” Bentley said. “Tasha’s group, I don’t even know why they were there. No one goes to the Burger Bar for a fancy date.” He said it as if he was using it as an excuse, a reason for being there with Krista. He’d thought they wouldn’t get caught.

  An icy sadness settled in my chest. “Why?” I whispered.

  Bentley grimaced. “I promised her I wouldn’t tell,” he said. “But it’s not—”

  “Oh, so you’ll keep a promise to her, but not to me?”

  He sighed. “It’s not that simple.”

  “Yeah, it is. It’s obvious you don’t want to be with me.”

  “Bailey, will you stop being dramatic and try to understand?”

  I took a step away from him. “How am I supposed to understand when you won’t tell me the truth?”

  “I … I’m not the only one involved here.”

  I couldn’t listen anymore. Tears stung my eyes as I whirled away. “Gabe, can I have a ride home, please?” I asked. I’d come to the beach with Bentley, but there was no way I’d be leaving with him.

  Gabe’s eyes shot to Bentley’s face, and he nodded.

  Harper rushed to my side and wrapped me in the quilt she and Jett had been snuggling under. “Jett and I will clean up here,” she said, glaring at Bentley. “You can go.”

  He stood still for a moment, facing me. The firelight reflected in his eyes, and he spread his hands helplessly. “Can we please talk about this?” he asked me.

  I shook my head. I had invested way too much time in him already. I’d been wondering if I was in love with him. Typical me, jumping to the most dramatic assumptions, regardless of the evidence piling up in front of me. “I want to go home,” I told Gabe, my voice hitching on the words.

  He sent Bentley an apologetic look, but turned away to follow me and Summer toward the parking lot. The sand crunched beneath my sandals, breaking and scattering just like the pieces of my heart.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The drama competition was a three-hour bus ride from Sweet Water, and we had to be at the school at six the next morning. The bus was rumbling in the parking lot when Dad drove me there at five-fifty. He put the car in park and reached out to stop me from climbing out of the car. “Wait a second. Are you sure you’re okay, sweetheart?”

  Tears sprang to my eyes, the way they always did when anyone sympathized with me. I didn’t know why, but I could be strong as long as I felt like I was on my own. The minute there was someone to share the load, I turned into a marshmallow. “I’m fine,” I said, wiping the tears from my cheeks.

  “You look tired,” he observed.

  Well, yeah. I’d gotten very little sleep after Gabe and Summer had taken me home last night. Bentley had tried to text, but I’d turned my phone o
ff. I didn’t want his funny, chatty pictures any more.

  I looked more like my mother, but my sensitive side came from my dad. His eyes were sad as he patted my arm. “Stay strong, honey. You can do this.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll text when we get back.” I hurried to climb from the car before I started crying for real.

  Most of the kids were already on the bus. Some were in costume and makeup, but most were dressed casually and carried their costumes in garment bags like me. I’d done this before; I didn’t want to sit on a bus for three hours trying not to mess up my hair. There would be time to get ready at the school where regionals were held.

  I wore my green plaid pajama pants and a Mighty Lions hoodie with the sleeves pulled over my hands. I had my costume and makeup, but as I scanned the seats on the bus, I wondered if I’d get the chance to use it. Bentley wasn’t here yet. Or maybe he wouldn’t be here at all. Would he hold true to form and stand me up again?

  Even if we did do the scene, I would be a terrible Beatrice. My eyes were puffy and stinging from crying, and my head ached. I couldn’t barely remember my name, let alone my lines.

  “Hey, Bailey!” Krista waved from a seat toward the back.

  Anger and sadness pulsed through me, and I ignored her. I slumped into a seat near the front and jammed my headphones into my ears. My phone was off and there was no music, but I kept my head down, pretending to be absorbed in show tunes. Still, I knew exactly when Bentley climbed on the bus. My sensor went off like some kind of hopeful idiot and my arms broke out in goosebumps as the scent of his cologne filled my nose. From the corner of my eye, I saw him pause near my seat, but I kept my gaze on the floor and he finally moved off toward the back. Maybe he was going to sit with Krista. My chest ached.

  The bus was not crowded, and I had the whole seat to myself. I slid toward the window and blocked the rest of the seat with my backpack in case anyone tried to sit by me. For the first hour, I could practically feel Bentley’s eyes on the back of my head, but I stared resolutely out the window, refusing to turn around. I just had to get through today, then a few more weeks, then it would be graduation and this would be over. I could do it.

  “Bailey, are you okay?” Mr. Meadows slid into the row in front of me. He was dressed in his normal teacher clothes, like something you’d wear on casual Friday at an office. His reading glasses were perched on his head, and the corners of his eyes were crinkled in concern.

  “I’m fine.” I scrubbed at my nose with the sleeve of my sweatshirt.

  Mr. Meadows sat in silence for a minute, and I wished he’d go back to his seat behind the driver. I didn’t want to get into this with anyone, especially not someone I admired. Then I heard Bentley’s laugh coming from the back of the bus, and my heart twisted. “Wait …” I said.

  Mr. Meadows had started shifting his weight to return to his seat, but he stopped and settled back into the cushion in front of me, a questioning look in his blue eyes.

  “I quit,” I said. “I don’t want to do the duo anymore.”

  Mr. Meadows’s eyes widened and he shot a look toward Bentley at the back of the bus. “Obviously this is a recent development, since we’re halfway there,” he said. “Can I ask why?”

  I shrugged. “I just don’t,” I said stubbornly.

  “Bailey, think about your goals.”

  I blinked to force back tears. “You’re the one who told me I put too much importance on regionals.”

  He frowned for a moment, like he was trying to remember. “I meant you were putting too much importance on the monologue, not regionals. But now, you’ve committed to me and to the school, and to Bentley. You can’t just quit, especially not without any notice.”

  I huffed and bit back the sting of fresh pain. Yeah, some commitment to Bentley.

  “You’ve agreed to represent the school,” Mr. Meadows said. “If we show up one team short, well, you know what that does to our chances of winning.”

  A few weeks ago, I’d been convinced that I was Sweet Water High’s best chance at winning the monologue. Then everyone had stomped on those dreams. Tears prickled in my eyes. “What difference does it make?” I whispered, staring at the floor of the bus.

  There was a long silence and Mr. Meadows sighed. “What’s happened? Did something go wrong between you and Bentley? Maybe we can fix it.”

  I shook my head and swiped at the hair on my forehead. “I don’t want to fix it. I want to get through the rest of the year and get out of Sweet Water and never look back.” The words came out with more venom than I’d intended, but I didn’t take it back. I was done with this little town and the little people who lived here. Bentley could stay and be a firefighter or an EMT or whatever he wanted and live the rest of his life here. I had bigger things ahead.

  “I understand you are hurt and probably feeling quite fragile right now,” Mr. Meadows said quietly. “But may I strongly discourage you from this line of thinking?”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know everything that is going on in your personal life, and I don’t need to unless you need someone to talk with. But I do know you have a great family and you have a promising career. Someday, high school will be a distant memory, but you’re going to want those memories to be good. You don’t want to graduate like this.”

  I hesitated. I knew he was right. But what else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t let Bentley use me like this.

  “He came to me, you know,” Mr. Meadows said into the silence.

  My head whipped up. “What do you mean?”

  “When I posted the list for monologues, Bentley saw you weren’t on it and asked if there was anything he could do to help you get to the state competition. This duo was his idea.”

  The humiliation of my Lady Macbeth moment washed over me again. My carefully rehearsed monologue, my scream echoing around the room, the silence in the auditorium when I’d finished. I’d thought I was being edgy and dramatic, but now I felt foolish and naïve. How could I have got it so wrong? Apparently, I’d gotten a lot of things wrong.

  I could practically feel Bentley watching us. He had to have noticed Mr. Meadows talking to me, had to be wondering what we were saying. But he’d also stood me up, gone out with Krista instead. There wasn’t really a good way to come back from that, was there?

  “So what do you say?” Mr. Meadows prodded. “Shall we end the year on a good note?”

  I bit my lip. “I’ll think about it.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  I thought hard for the rest of the trip. I could do the scene, really show my acting talent by pretending everything was great with my partner when it was totally falling apart. I’d heard of plenty of pairings like that—where the two people hate each other in real life, but you’d never know it by watching their performance. I could make it work, take it for what it was and let go of what it wasn’t. So maybe Bentley really was the jerk I’d always assumed he was, but Mr. Meadows was right. I couldn’t let him ruin my chance at winning regionals.

  When we reached the school, I hurried off the bus before anyone could catch up to me, before Bentley could try to talk to me. Our chaperones directed us to the girls’ locker rooms so we could change, and for a while, it was noise and confusion and staking our spots and people taking selfies in the mirror. There were several other high schools there and everyone mostly stuck with their own group, but I moved away. I didn’t want to be around anyone at the moment, especially not Tasha and most especially not Krista.

  I found an empty bench and began to change. We’d continued the tango element in the scene into the costumes, and I had a simple black dress with a keyhole cutout at the neckline and long sleeves made of lace. The dress ended in an asymmetrical hem and was lined with red to give it a splash of color. I had a huge red silk flower glued to a comb to put in my hair. When it was styled, the flower would be almost as big as the bun on the back of my head.

  As I was giving my hair a final shot of
spray, Krista appeared around the corner of the lockers. She’d already changed into her costume for her monologue, an Edwardian dress with a high collar and puffy sleeves that fit her part of Gwendolen in The Importance of Being Earnest. “Hey.” She clutched at the fabric of her skirt. “Got a minute?”

  My mind blazed over all the terrible things I’d wanted to say to Krista—the accusations, the sadness, and the sense of betrayal. But when I looked at the sorrow in her eyes, all my harsh words evaporated. I gave a long sigh and sank down on the bench, turning the comb with my silk flower in my fingers. “Okay.”

  “What happened at homecoming wasn’t Bentley’s fault,” Krista said. “It was mine.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She sat beside me and twisted her fingers in her skirt. “This year has been rough for me,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “Just … reasons,” she said. “My parents split up, and I got overwhelmed with my AP classes and … I don’t know, just started cratering.”

  I thought back to all the times Krista had come to class with her eyes red and puffy. Sometimes she’d seemed okay, but other times, she’d been very quiet and withdrawn. I should have asked her what was wrong. I could have asked her to talk, but I hadn’t. Guilt churned in my stomach.

  “It’s getting better now, but right around homecoming last year was when my dad moved out and everything just really stunk. I got really depressed and emotional and I …” She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I started thinking about doing something stupid,” she finally said.

  My chest felt heavy. “Like hurting yourself?” I whispered.

  She hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Dumb, huh?”

  “No,” I said quickly. I’d never felt that way before; I couldn’t imagine it. We had our whole future ahead of us, and I couldn’t wait. What would it be like to think you had nothing to live for? More guilt surged through me. Why hadn’t I noticed? Why hadn’t I been there for her?