by Rose Fall
I didn’t even know who to be mad at: Ash for keeping this secret, Rachel for coming up with the bet or me for inspiring Rachel to come up with the bet. Maybe I should have blamed Jessie for never clarifying about his brother, or mentioning that he was here. Or maybe I should have blamed this Julian kid for not telling Ash that he had a brother. Maybe we were all to blame. Maybe none of us were to blame. Regardless, I just had this really bad feeling about it all. But what the hell could I do now? There was no turning back.
Trying to fix this would involve a lot more honesty than I could handle. How was I supposed to tell Ash that I’d been reading her diary, the one dedicated to her dead grandfather?
I thought of how ironic it was that I came here to escape reality. Now I wanted to get away from this reality. I wished I hadn’t been so nosy. But it was too late for that too. I sighed and stopped hitting myself with the diary. I opened it back to where I had left off. There was only one more entry, from the day before.
Reasons that This Bet Was a Terrible Idea and We’re All Screwed
1. The fighting has already started and Rachel is spilling Eli’s secrets
2. I think Eli maybe likes Jessie
3. I think Rachel maybe likes Jessie
4. I like Jessie’s twin brother
5. I can’t tell anyone I like Jessie’s twin brother
6. I almost told Jessie about the bet because I feel like a horrible person
7. I can say goodbye to any hope of being with Julian if he finds out about the bet, so I must pick between being with him and being a good person
8. Rachel knew about Julian’s existence and she has not said anything, so she probably has more evil planned
Obviously, I didn’t agree with all of the things on Ash’s list. Additionally, I could have used some elaboration on a few of her points, but especially that last one. Nevertheless, I definitely agreed with her point about all of us being screwed.
--
"Where have you been?"
"Out, relax mom," Rachel replied sarcastically.
I stayed still, waiting for an answer.
She sighed, "If you really want to know, I went out, with Jessie."
"Last I heard he didn't want anything to do with you."
She shrugged, "Guess he changed his mind!" She gave me an innocent smile before turning to head upstairs.
It was like I was being haunted by Ash's diary. Did she really believe that Rachel liked Jessie? The same Rachel that had warned us about not getting attached? And also if Rachel knew about Julian, why hadn't she told me? Did she know Ash's secret? What else was she keeping from me? Suddenly, I couldn’t help being suspicious of her. If only she kept a diary too.
I knew it wasn’t fair, to be angry at Rachel without hearing her side. But I was starting to wonder if her desire to win this bet trumped our loyalty to each other, even as I irrationally blamed Ash for putting these doubts in my mind. I was growing frustrated with both them, and for some reason, that made me want to win.
---
I looked down at the short, vibrant green dress I was wearing; it was supposed to bring out the green in my eyes. There were subtle specks of it, only presenting themselves according to a mysterious schedule I knew nothing about. I was supposed to go over to Jessie’s house. I wasn’t sure if movies on his couch were his idea of romancing a girl, but his collection happened to be pretty impressive, and I was quite the movie junkie so I didn’t mind. The collection consisted of at least a few hundred DVDs, which was even more than I had.
When I’d asked him about it, he had said “That’s fifth‒date level information” and I was too busy wondering if he considered what we were doing “dating” to make further inquiries.
Besides, the beauty of this competition was that it was almost like a gift to him in a way because he had three, well, two girls that were trying to be everything he wanted. Admittedly, I failed at that pretty often; I hadn’t quite mastered how to mold myself into the sort of shallow, passive girls I imagined him with, and too often my sarcasm got the best of me. But I wasn’t going to give up the fight. If I was finally going to take this competition seriously I had to bring my game face on, no pun intended.
This meant pushing aside the anger that had continued to boil in me after learning about his “outings” with Rachel. I couldn’t care less who he was seeing, except he had insisted that he wasn’t interested in her. Even though I’d never believed him, it angered me to know that he was just as much of a liar as every other boy I’d ever known. It made me think that Rachel had been right all along.
He opened the door just as I was about to knock, startling both of us. It wasn’t enough to keep him from doing a once over, his eyes resting on my chest. I coughed, and he jumped again.
"Can I come in?" I smiled.
He gave me a weird look; his eyebrows scrunched together and he scratched his head like he was trying to remember where he’d placed something. Suddenly his expression changed and his distracted look was replaced by a mischievous grin.
“Umm, sure,” he mumbled. “Just place your hand right there and let me slam the door on it first. That’s how I greet people.”
“Ha. Ha,” I said humorlessly, squeezing by him to come in, as he’d already exhausted my patience. I made myself comfortable on the couch.
“I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up.”
“It’s hard to stand you up when you live next door,” I said matter-of-factly.
“So are you saying that’s the only reason you came?”
“Maybe.” I shrugged.
“Are you dressed like that because I went out with Rachel last night?”
“One, I didn’t know you went out with Rachel last night. Two, I couldn’t care less. And three, could you be any more conceited?”
“I’m kidding. I just wanted to see if it would make you jealous. Rachel and I are friends…is that allowed?”
“Do I look like your mother?”
“No,” he said seriously.
“It’s not a literal question, dimwit.”
“I like you.”
I froze. I couldn’t deny that he had a way of catching me off guard, always admitting more than I expected him to.
“Oh look, I finally said something that got you to stop talking,” he said with a satisfied smile.
“Where’s the movie?” I finally swallowed.
I could tell he was enjoying this, from the way he laughed. “21 Jump Street or Savages?” He asked with a smirk.
---
I turned towards Jessie as the credits began to roll. "Are you sleeping?"
"Are you crying?"
"Funny," I responded sarcastically.
He stayed still. He hadn't moved since the movie started and surprisingly, he’d let me watch it in peace.
I wasn’t complaining, but when I thought about it, he’d seemed distracted all night, and I couldn’t help wondering if he was still thinking about whatever he was thinking about.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked disinterestedly.
“I think it’s cute that you’re worried about me.” He joked, but his smile seemed strained.
He could say whatever he wanted, but his eyes never lied. They told me that something was wrong today. They seemed faded and tired, which was so different from how bright they usually were.
So I didn’t take the bait. I stared back at him unblinkingly, waiting for a serious answer. As irrational as it was, I wanted to be the only one with secrets.
He finally sighed, “Is it okay if we don’t talk about it?”
He looked down at his lap, suddenly seeming half a world away.
“Do you believe in the supernatural?” I asked stupidly. I wasn’t sure what was bothering him, but it bothered me more than I wanted it to, and I wanted both of us to stop thinking about it.
He recovered quickly, his eyes seemingly grateful for the distraction from whatever had been clouding them before.
“What do you mean exact
ly?” He asked.
“Ghosts, gargoyles, witches…”
He was laughing before I could finish, “Uh, not really, maybe ghosts? …Something tells me you believe that stuff.”
“Well, I don’t know…I think there are a lot of things in the world we don’t know about.”
“Fair enough,” he agreed, but something about the way his eyes crinkled made me think he was starting to wonder if I was a little nuts. Somehow I found it amusing.
“When I was younger I used to be really interested in witchcraft. I watched a ton of witchy movies and T.V. shows and I was always trying to move things with my mind and create rhyming spells that would turn my little sister into a hamster.”
He seemed thoroughly distracted from wherever his mind had been going before, but the look on his face suggested he was more disturbed now than he had been before.
“And supposedly you don’t do these things anymore?”
“Well, I never said that.”
“…What are you saying?”
“…What are you thinking?”
After a moment, he broke into a smile, “Okay, you got me, I’m thoroughly creeped out.”
I shrugged, managing not to smile, “I was just telling the truth.”
“Is that how you scare people away?”
“Okay, Dr. Phil, I wasn’t trying to scare anyone. I figured you were old enough to handle a little superstition. But if I scared you, then sorry, kid.”
“Okay, fine. Can I ask you a question now?”
“You can ask…”
“And you promise to answer it?”
“I don’t make promises.”
“You’re impossible,” he said with a head shake.
“It’s my middle name,” I smiled.
“Favorite flower.”
“Sunflowers,” I said quickly, my eyebrows furrowing before I even finished answering. “Was that really your question?”
“No, I just figured if I started with something easy you would let your guard down a little.”
“And you assumed I could just name a favorite flower off the top of my head because I’m a girl?”
“Well you did, didn’t you?”
“I only agreed to one question.” I said defiantly.
“Oh, come on, it must be exhausting having to be so mysterious all the time, I just want to get to know you better.” There was that face again, the one that got him everything he wanted.
I looked away. “Has that ever worked?”
“Yeah, actually,” he laughed, “Every time…I guess I’ve met my match.”
“I guess so,” I agreed, crossing my arms. I could see him smiling at me from the corner of my eye.
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun
It took a lot of convincing. I’m not even sure why I thought it would be a good idea, seeing as I knew it was much too soon to try to get Rachel and Ash to bond again.
But for whatever reason, I’d decided we needed a girl’s night. A night for me to leave he-who-shall-not-be-named and Jessie, for Ashton to leave her books and her Julian, for Rachel to leave her plotting and well… whatever the hell else she did with her free time. Besides, I was kind of tired of being secretly mad at my best friends.
Rachel had heard about a big party tonight. When she mentioned it to me I was immediately struck by the idea. Now I was sort of having second thoughts; I didn’t want this to be another drama filled night together‒not that I had many more secrets for Rachel to reveal. I assured myself that with the absence of Jessie (and Julian) it wouldn’t be a problem.
Rachel, since she enjoyed torturing me, decided to help me get ready. She took years to tame my unruly hair, cake my face with foundation, and convince me to wear something “feminine.”
‘Did this mean she classified everything I usually wore as “masculine”?’ I wondered.
I’d always thought of my style as “casual.” I didn’t bother with skirts and dresses unless I had somewhere important to go and eventually, I decided her statement was simply another one of her gross exaggerations.
My straightened hair ended up in a ponytail. I wore tower high heels (though this was something I’d become accustomed due to my shortcomings), and I somehow squeezed into Rachel’s floral romper. “How’s this for feminine?” I’d asked her when I finished getting dressed.
She wore a black and white checkered corset “dress” that rose up enough to grant me a super long peak at her lacy black underwear as she bent over to gather all of her hair. Coming back up to pile it all into a giant bun at the top off her head, she gave me a wink that made it obvious there was no point in telling her that her underwear was showing.
“Done!” She proclaimed, blowing me a kiss with fiery red lips that showcased her favorite lipstick.
I took the longest to get ready, but Ash was a close runner up. When she came out in a knee length teal dress that looked appropriate for campaigning, I cheerfully agreed with Rachel that she looked way too dignified for our destination, eagerly volunteering Rachel to help her.
I’d created an elaborate braid with her cooperative hair that we tucked at the bottom; it was impressive enough that Rachel complemented it, despite it being on Ashton’s head. The final product consisted of dark blue lace shorts, a beaded white sweater with three-quarter sleeves, and ballet flats, all of which I considered a sufficient compromise, choosing to ignore the fact that she was wearing a sweater in July.
The outfit was complemented by Rachel’s sour expression, customary when she doesn’t get her way‒she wanted Ash to wear a crop-top, like that was going to happen‒ and an accurate representation of how the rest of our night would go.
---
I took a deep breath before entering. The familiar stench of alcohol, the boys playing beer-pong by a pool table, the heat of so many bodies being packed into what was probably formerly known as the living room before it had been trashed, sent a fresh wave of nostalgia through me. It invited me in, reminding me of what I’d left behind in high school yet would have to look forward to in college. The party seemed to be chanting my name.
I consciously tried to stay by Ash’s side. Rachel would feel right at home here, but I was afraid Ash would accept brownies from some “kind” stranger if I left her alone for one minute.
Of course, I had educated her on all the dos and don’ts of teen parties and even dragged her to one last year. Still, I wanted to ease her into the corruption that awaited her in the fall.
By the time I turned back to my left, Rachel was nowhere to be found. She’d probably already found alcohol, or a boy, but probably both.
“Oh, punch!” Ash said, heading over to the drinks.
“Never mind!” she exclaimed a second later, walking back towards where I’d been waiting for my wisdom to register.
“Good girl,” I yelled over the blaring music, grabbing a beer for myself. I wasn’t an avid drinker, I learned the hard way that I didn’t like the feeling of being so intoxicated that I was relinquishing control of my brain, my judgment, and my stomach. Lucky for me I knew how to hold my liquor. This usually came in handy because Rachel had no problem relinquishing control and I always felt responsible for her and, Ashton of course.
“Let’s dance!” I exclaimed to Ash, resisting the urge to laugh as her expression made me question whether I’d accidentally proclaimed, “Let’s go to war!”
She just stood there, nodding her head and smiling at me. And then some guy came from behind her and asked her to dance. He was really cute and figuring it couldn’t hurt, I nodded encouragingly. Sensing her reluctance I answered for her, “She would love to!”
Of course I kept an eye on them, but he didn’t try anything. She did a bunch of awkward dance moves that he copied and she was actually smiling, like she didn’t totally hate it. Knowing she was fine for the moment, I tore my eyes away to scout for Rachel in the crowd, and found her taking shots. I made a mental note to go stop her at some point.
I headed over to Rachel after about 10 minut
es, when I was sure Ash was okay and I had grown sufficiently concerned about the group of guys surrounding her. Of course, she seemed perfectly at ease.
“Come to check on me?” She asked as I elbowed my way through her audience.
“Well, it’s starting to look like you’re one of tonight’s main attractions, just wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”
“Oh honey, you’ve seen me naked!” She winked.
I rolled my eyes, tempted to let her get back to entertaining. But she grabbed my hand and turned me towards one of the guys she’d been talking to, “My friend was just telling about how no one will ask her to dance.” She gave me no time to protest. “Keep her busy, will you?” She added before shoving me towards him.
‘Great, so now I’m desperate.’
“Are you okay?” He asked, gripping my arms after I’d awkwardly fallen into his chest, though it was a very well built one, so I didn’t mind too much.
“I’m fine!” I yelled back over the booming techno song.
“Yes, you are!” I heard him agree.
I rolled my eyes, preparing to disappear, “She’s crazy, and drunk,” I said, meaning to dismiss Rachel’s comment.
“I gathered, but I’m grateful for the introduction. Can I get you a drink?”
I was already shaking my head as he tried to coax me.
“Come on, one drink,” he said again, flashing a set of pearly whites that presented a beautiful contrast to his dark skin. Suddenly I couldn’t think of a reason to say no.
His name was Jared. He was a sophomore at Duke interning at a merger‒consulting firm‒whatever that means‒ nearby for the summer. A few of his friends had driven down to the beach just for the weekend and they’d ended up at this party; this had been the group Rachel was talking to.
Jared managed to get my number due to a miraculous combination of persistence, luck, and boredom. Those were also the reasons I was dancing with him, though I had to admit I wasn’t having the worst time. The latest hip hop song, with its words in a seemingly foreign language and its catchy, rhythmic beat was so loud, I could feel its rhythm in my chest.
