My Dilemma

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My Dilemma Page 11

by Pixie Perkins


  Whatever, I’m not a picky eater. Food is food.

  Hailee, however, briefly wrinkles her nose…so there must be something on the menu that she doesn’t approve of.

  Such a diva.

  Soon we’re all eating, and I’m pretty sure the chicken is what has lemon parmesan on it. No complaints here though. It’s delicious.

  Brayden’s arm brushes against mine as he uses his knife to cut his chicken, and I feel myself stiffen from the sudden contact. Dang it! Do I have to be so on edge when it comes to him?

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as he chews his food. And honestly? The way his jaw works is almost mesmerizing.

  Snap out of it!

  “What’s up?” he asks, his voice low and sexy as heck. “You’re staring.”

  Oh great, now his attention is on me. Those hazel eyes waiting for a response.

  “I—I, uh, I wasn’t staring,” I trip over my words, “I was just…thinking.”

  He turns slightly, resting the crook of his arm over the back of his chair. “Thinking about what?”

  “I need to use the bathroom,” I say, scooting my chair out. Is it the most graceful response? Heck no. But it’s the easiest solution for me to get some air that Brayden isn’t invading.

  He proceeds to nod. “Ah. Upstairs, second door on the right.”

  Fabulous.

  I excuse myself from the table, but no one really seems to notice or care, and then I leave the dining room. I’m so over this dinner. I should be home right now, nowhere near him.

  I make sure not to stomp up the stairs—but I really wish I could—and in a couple of quick strides, I find the bathroom.

  And I also find Brayden’s bedroom across the hall.

  Don’t judge me! The door is like, halfway open…and I doubt his parent’s room is messy with posters on the walls. I will admit, however, that trying to scope out his room is just plain creepy. But in my defense, it’s not like I’m walking in or—

  “Ya know, if you wanted to see my room…all you had to do was say so.”

  I curse under my breath at the sound of his voice. Then I curse again before turning to face him. “I wasn’t—”

  “Sure, you weren’t,” he cuts in with a smirk.

  Ugh. How did I not hear him sooner?

  “What are you doing up here anyway?”

  “Well,” he drawls, unfazed by my snappy tone, “this is my house. I don’t really think I need a reason for deciding to come upstairs. But, if you must know, Hailee was concerned that you wouldn’t be able to find the bathroom because you get lost easily.” He crosses his arms as he leans against the hallway wall. “Now I’m starting to think that was just her nice way of saying you’re a snoop.”

  My mouth pops open at that. “I am not a snoop!”

  “Relax, Meg.” He laughs some. “I’m not mad or anything. I guess I should feel flattered, huh?”

  “Shut up,” I mutter, walking past him. “I swear, everything is a stupid joke with you…”

  “Hey, Megan, come on,” he says, moving to stand in front of me. “I said I wasn’t mad at you. What’s the problem?”

  You. You’re the problem. Having you around is the problem. Thinking about you is the problem. Finding you attractive is the problem. It’s you.

  Of course, I don’t tell him any of that though. I’m not looking to make myself seem even more pathetic.

  “Nothing,” I lie, well aware of how dry my voice sounds, “I’m sorry for peeking into your room…okay? I saw that the door was partially open, and I was curious, but I didn’t know it was your room.”

  Well, until I peeked, obviously.

  “It’s fine,” he replies with a careless shrug, “so are we good now?”

  Hardly.

  A brief “mm-hmm” is all I can manage at this point.

  “We should, uh—we should head back downstairs,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “Yeah,” I agree with a nod, “we should.”

  Before I say or do something stupid again. Or before he realizes that I didn’t actually go to the bathroom.

  I step around him, making sure our arms don’t touch AT ALL, and then I go downstairs. Talk about awkward…

  Hailee is the only one who acknowledges me when I sit down at the table again—and by acknowledging me, I mean that she wiggles her eyebrows with a smirk on her face.

  The. Brat.

  Brayden takes his seat beside me, and Hailee’s annoying smirk grows. I widen my eyes at her as a silent, yet VERY clear, message that she needs to stop.

  This situation is bad enough without her adding to it.

  “Hey, Brayden,” Kyle says, trying to stab his peas with his fork, “do you know that I play soccer?”

  At least I have one sibling that’s not trying to make things more awkward.

  “No, I didn’t know that,” Brayden drawls, sipping some of his water, “but I bet you’re really good.”

  Yeah, he’d lose that bet.

  “Well, I have a game tomorrow,” Kyle replies with a shrug, eyes focused on his peas, “maybe you could come watch me play.”

  Where’s he going with this?

  “If your mom and dad will let you anyway,” he continues, now giving Brayden a knowing look, “getting permission from your parents is super important.”

  I roll my eyes as I eat my lukewarm food. Funny, I don’t remember Kyle getting permission from Mom and Dad when he cut his own hair two months ago.

  “Very true,” Brayden agrees with a nod, “I’ll make sure to ask them about it first.”

  Give me a break. I can’t even believe this conversation is happening.

  “Cool, cool,” Kyle replies, bobbing his head up and down. “Ya know, I noticed you guys don’t have a dog. Is it because your mom doesn’t like pets? Because that’s why we don’t have one—Mom doesn’t like pets.”

  “Kyle,” Mom says, now aware that a conversation has been happening without her, “it’s not that Mommy doesn’t like pets…now just isn’t the right time for us to get a dog, sweetie.”

  “See?” Kyle asks, raising an eyebrow at Brayden. He then proceeds to let out a loud sigh. “The struggle is real.”

  Brayden smiles, and I feel my heart squeeze at the sight.

  The struggle is most definitely real.

  Chapter 15: It’s Not Happening

  “You said his next practice,” I whine to Mom, crossing my arms, “not game.”

  I can’t go to Kyle soccer’s game—what if Brayden decides to show up? And I don’t want to spend my Saturday afternoon watching a bunch of seven-year-olds run around before tripping over their own feet because they have no coordination whatsoever.

  “He really wants you to be there, Megan,” Mom says with a tsk, “and you haven’t been to any of his games this season. I mean, even your sister went to a few of them.”

  I roll my eyes. “That’s because she knows Ricky’s little brother is on Kyle’s team.”

  And every time she’s gone to a game, she’s come home disappointed, because Ricky is never at the games.

  “You’re going,” Mom states in a firm tone, “it’ll only be an hour or so, and it’s not like you have plans already.”

  “My plans are to stay home in my pajamas,” I inform her, motioning to my cartoon zzz-zebra top and matching zebra-print shorts, “because it’s the weekend…I shouldn’t have to go anywhere.”

  She raises an eyebrow at me. “Megan.”

  “Fine,” I huff, throwing my hands up, “I’ll go. Okay?”

  Arguing with her any further would just be pointless.

  “Good,” she replies with a nod, “we’re leaving in twenty minutes.”

  Yay.

  I squint my eyes, give her a forced smile, then I turn on my heel and go upstairs. Again, if I had some hobbies this wouldn’t be happening.

  “So,” Hailee drawls, standing in her bedroom’s doorway with her arms crossed, “you’re going to the game?”

  “It doesn’t co
ncern you,” I tell her, opening my bedroom door. “Don’t you have something to be doing on your phone?”

  “It’s charging,” she states in a matter-of-fact tone, “and I can’t exactly use it at 10%, now can I?”

  Oh great, that means she has nothing better to do than bother me.

  “Do you think Brayden will be there?” she asks with a mischievous look. “Is that why you’re going?”

  “Knock it off, twerp,” I say, pointing a finger at her, “or I really will throw all your boyband merch in the trash.”

  Oh yeah, the threats were real last night once we got home…and there were almost tears. I’m surprised she’s even talking to me.

  “Why won’t you just admit that you still like him?” She lets out one of her infamous, dramatic sighs. “It would make things so much easier.”

  “Because I don’t still like him,” I snap at her, going into my room. And she trails after me before I can close the door. “Hailee—”

  “Come on, Megan!” she whines, throwing herself on my bed. “You guys are so cute together! Gianna and I ship it so hard! The chemistry and history between the two of you is beautiful! How dare you deprive us!”

  Clearly, I’m not the only one who needs to find some hobbies. Too bad they kicked her out of that dance class…

  “Please just let it go,” I all-but-beg her. “Seriously. Brayden and I were hardly a thing to begin with, and we’re definitely not going to be a thing now.”

  “By why not?” she pouts. “I mean, I get that you’re still a little bitter about what happened between you guys…but what about second chances?”

  Well, I have no desire whatsoever to give a second chance to Brayden. Why should I? And even if I wanted to, it’s not like he’s interested in me anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.

  Hailee gasps as she scrambles to sit up. “Wait, are you thinking about giving him a second chance?!”

  “What?” I scoff. “No, of course not. He’s not interested in me. I’m not interested in him. It’s not happening.”

  “How do you know he’s not interested?” she asks, pursing her lips. “Because I saw him walk right over to you last night, and it was literally like he couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”

  “You look nice.”

  “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

  “Thinking about what?”

  “Relax, Meg.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  Don’t go there, Megan…

  But it’s too late.

  “You know I’m right,” she insists, crossing her arms, “and you can deny that you still like him all you want…but I’ve seen the way you look at him.” She widens her eyes at me. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

  “Nothing,” I force myself to say, “I’m not going to do anything. Now, will you just let it go and get out of my room?”

  “You are so frustrating!” she exclaims, sliding off my bed. “Ya know, I was supposed to stay home today, but now I’ll have to go to the game so I can babysit you. Unbelievable!”

  “Wait, what?” I ask as she starts to leave the room. “What the heck are you talking about?”

  “I know you probably won’t bother with makeup,” she says, ignoring my question as she pauses in the doorway, “but at least do something with your hair.” She wrinkles her nose, then walks out into the hallway, closing my door behind her. “SEE! I can be respectful and close doors when I leave other people’s rooms!”

  Instead of shouting something back like I usually would, I begin to pace my room while thinking about all the worst-case-scenarios that can happen if Brayden shows up for the game. And trust me, the scenarios are terrible.

  Soon we’re leaving the house, and I spend the whole drive to the soccer field hoping that Brayden will just stay home. Or find somewhere else to go. Besides, I’m sure he has better things to do then come to a lame soccer game.

  “I have to use the bathroom!” Kyle exclaims, just as Dad pulls into a free parking space. “Like, super bad!”

  “Ky-Ky,” Mom says with a sigh, “didn’t you go before we left? When I told you to?”

  “Uh…” he trails off, squirming in his booster seat. “I can’t remember.”

  Yeah, that’s a no.

  “I’ll take him,” Dad says, turning the car off, “go ahead and get out, Ky.”

  Which means I have to get out, because Hailee’s not going to let him out on her side. So, I click seatbelt off then get out of the car, and Kyle follows suit.

  “Stop bouncing,” I tell him as I close the door, “you’re going to make it worse.”

  “All right, bud,” Dad says once he’s also out of the car, “let’s go.”

  Kyle takes his hand and immediately drags him over toward the bathrooms.

  “Please, get out of the car,” I hear Mom tell Hailee as she closes the passenger door. “Megan?”

  What nowwwwww?

  I put on my best: “I’m-trying-to-be-a-good-daughter” face. “Yes?”

  “Keep an eye on your sister, would you?” she replies before motioning past me. “I see Anna over there, and I just want to ask her something really quick.”

  Who the heck is Anna?

  Mom strides off, her perky ponytail bouncing with every step, and I roll my eyes. I shouldn’t even be here right now…

  “Do you see him anywhere?” Hailee asks, coming around to where I am. “We need to be on the lookout at all times.”

  “What part of let it go don’t you understand?” I hiss at her. “Quit. It.”

  She tilts her black sunglasses down before carefully scanning the area. “Nope. No signs of him.” She pushes her sunglasses back up. “Don’t worry, Meg. He’ll show up.”

  Oh my gosh. It never ends.

  “Let’s just go find some seats,” I suggest, nodding toward the bleachers, “okay? Forget about Brayden,”

  “As if I could,” she scoffs, thankfully walking beside me away from the car, “that man is straight-up gorgeous!”

  A reminder I didn’t want, or need…

  Hailee suddenly gasps, dropping a curse word as she jumps behind me. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  “What?” I ask, totally lost. “What is it?”

  “He’s here!” she hisses before muttering something else.

  I quickly look around for Brayden, but don’t see him at all. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course, I’m sure!” she exclaims, sounding like she’s ready to strangle me. “I’d recognize those blue eyes and dimpled chin anywhere!”

  Wait. Blue eyes and—

  I turn around to look at her. “Who the heck are you talking about?”

  “Ricky,” she whispers, moving to peek past me. “Oh my gosh…I can’t believe he’s actually here. He never comes!”

  “Yeah, I know,” I drawl with an eye-roll. “Well, why don’t you go talk to him?”

  She proceeds to look at me like I’m crazy. “Because he’s Ricky Vero, Meg. Who in their right mind would just walk up to Ricky Vero and talk to him?”

  “He’s just another kid at your school, Hailee,” I tell her, raising an eyebrow, “not one of those celebrities you’re obsessed with. Go talk to him.”

  “Yeah, no, I don’t think so.” She shakes her head. “I mean, I’m not even wearing the right—”

  “Shut up and go talk to him,” I cut her off, stepping out of the way, “you look fine.”

  She doesn’t move an inch though.

  “All right, fine,” I say with a nod, “I’ll just go talk to him. Blue eyes and a dimpled chin? No problem.”

  “Stop!” She grabs my arm, a panicked look on her face. “I’ll go talk to him, okay? I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

  I snort at that. “Why, does Ricky have a thing for older girls?”

  “You’re so embarrassing!” she wails, letting go of my arm. “Just stay here and pretend you don’t know me.”

  Well, then…

  “I am not that embarras
sing,” I mutter as she practically runs toward some scrawny dark-haired kid. Is he seriously the heartthrob at her school? Not for anything, but he’s kind of dressed more on the nerdier side. Then again, I guess nerdy is “in” right now.

  “Hey…Kyle’s older sister, right?”

  My eyes widen at the sight of Lincoln’s older brother. Dang it! I never remembered what his name is.

  “Yeah,” I reply somewhat hesitantly as I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans, “Megan.”

  “Megan,” he echoes with a nod. “I wasn’t sure if you’d recognize me or not, to be honest.”

  Oh, I recognize you all right—for sure—I just can’t remember your darn name!

  I force a slight laugh. “Well, I’m pretty good with faces.”

  Just not names, apparently.

  “That’s cool,” he says, even though it’s totally not, “so—”

  “Hey, Megan!” I hear a voice call from behind me. But it’s not just any voice…it’s Brayden’s voice.

  Not now. Gah, he has the worst timing.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologize to whatever-his-name-is, choosing to ignore Brayden. “What were you saying?”

  “Meg!”

  “Uh…” L-boy’s eyebrows crease, and his brown eyes look past me. “I think that guy is calling you.”

  I clear my throat some as Brayden continues to holler my name. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just…some guy I go to school with.”

  I can’t even believe this.

  “Well,” L-boy drawls, now looking somewhat uncomfortable, “he’s coming this way.”

  Of. Course. He. Is.

  Why does this kind of crap always happen to me?

  “I guess you couldn’t hear me again, huh?” Brayden asks, smirk intact as he appears next to me. “Maybe you should get that checked out, Meg.”

  Maybe you should go away.

  However, I bite back the remark and turn to L-boy instead. “Would you excuse us for one quick second?”

  I grab Brayden’s arm and yank him far enough away from—gosh, I really need to figure out his name—so he can’t hear me sound like a complete crazy person.

  “Dang, Megan,” Brayden says, shaking his arm out after I release it, “you’ve got a pretty good grip.”

  “And you’ve got a lot of nerve,” I snap at him. “Interrupting my conversation like that was just rude and unnecessary.”

 

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