“Uh huh.” Clearly he doesn’t believe me. And since when does he manage to come to class early? He usually runs in late, causing Curtin to scold him, not like Ash cares. He pretty much does what he wants, when he wants. Well, within reason.
Mostly he avoids spending time with me as much as possible.
“Benny boy finally gonna work up the nerve to ask you out?” Ash asks nonchalantly.
My jaw drops open again and I turn to look at him. How does he know I like Ben Murray? And wait a minute—does he know something I don’t? Is he friends with Ben? Ha, doubtful. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s pretty obvious. You two keep eye fucking each other at lunch.” Ash shrugs and looks away. “He needs to make a move.”
“You’re so gross.” The words leave me before I can check myself, and I wince, ready for him to say something worse. But I mean, really. Eye-fucking? Ben and I don’t do that.
Do we?
“Why? Because I speak the truth?” He shifts closer to the table, propping his forearms on the edge. “He needs to put a lockdown on that before someone else sneaks in and steals you from him.”
I make a face. “Like that’s going to happen.”
Ash raises his brows, glancing over at me once more. “Wanna make a bet?”
I stare at him, confused by the tone of his voice. He made that question sound downright…suggestive. As if he knows someone who’s interested in me.
As if that someone could be…
Him.
No. No, no, no.
We hate each other.
His eyes suddenly light up, and he snaps his fingers. “I know why you’re excited.”
I frown. He changes subjects so fast, I’m going to get whiplash. “Why?”
“You think you’re gonna get nominated for homecoming.”
Oh. I did not want him to figure that out. “No, I don’t.” I protest too quickly, and he knows it.
“Yes, you do.” He shifts closer to me, and I turn and glare at him. “You think you’re going to be a pretty little princess on the stage at the homecoming game?”
I snort and immediately regret it. That sounded disgusting. “No, not at all.”
“Uh huh. Well, just so you know…” His voice drifts and he shakes his head, his lips forming a tight line. “Never mind.”
Now I’m curious. “Just so I know what?”
He waves a hand. “It doesn’t matter.”
I hate when people do this sort of thing. It is truly the absolute worst. “No, tell me. What is it?”
His expression turns serious. Like, deadly serious. “You’re going to think I’m stupid. Or worse, you won’t believe me.”
My mind is scrambling. What in the world is he talking about? “Tell me.”
Those dark eyes stare into mine, and I can see the eternal struggle. Whatever it is, he’s not sure if he should say it.
Meaning he’s probably going to insult me.
He mutters something I can’t make out and shifts closer, his head angled toward mine, and he cups his hand around my ear, rough fingers brushing my skin, causing me to shiver.
I hope he didn’t notice. He’s the type of boy who’d use my body’s uncontrolled reaction against me. He’d turn it into something dirty, and I don’t have those sorts of thoughts about him. No way.
Uh uh.
“Don’t tell anyone,” he whispers into my ear, pausing for a moment. His breath is hot, smells like cinnamon, and I swear he just licked his lips. Wait a minute, did he actually touch my ear with his tongue? “But I voted for you.”
He pulls away right at the exact moment the bell rings and Curtin immediately launches into a lecture. I don’t hear anything the teacher says. I don’t notice if Asher is laughing at me or not. I feel like I’m in shock, frozen in place as the same questions keep running through my mind.
Asher Davis voted for me for homecoming princess? And did he really just lick my ear? What a perv!
What’s worse?
I kind of liked it.
When the announcement comes seven minutes before class is over and Mrs. Adney reads my name just as I secretly predicted, I can’t help it.
I’m beaming with pride.
My smile fades in an instant when I hear Ash’s name announced too. My gaze flicks to where he’s sitting and he appears shocked. My friend Kaya was nominated as well, along with her boyfriend. Another couple was nominated too. Tradition is everyone pairs up and runs together during homecoming week, participating in the games and dressing up together. Which means…
“Looks like it’s you and me,” Ash says when the announcements are over. He smiles, his dark eyes glittering. “Hope Ben doesn’t mind.”
I don’t know how I’m going to survive this.
Six
“Here.” I pull a reusable shopping bag from my backpack and drop it on the table, pushing it toward Ash. “This is for you.”
The wary expression on his face is new, one I’ve never seen before. It’s like he doesn’t trust me. “What is it?” He stares at the bag like there’s a snake inside that’s going to bite him.
“Clothes and costumes.” It’s Friday, and we’ve never talked about what we’re going to do or wear for homecoming week. We were nominated two weeks ago, so this is kind of ridiculous.
But after asking around some, I found out this is fairly normal, especially for those who are running together but aren’t together together. The girls usually arrange everything and the boys are clueless. They always just do what they’re told and suffer through the dress-up days and games they have to play.
So unfair.
He frowns. “Clothes and costumes for what?”
I roll my eyes. “Homecoming. You know, it’s next week?”
“I know that.” He sounds defensive as he reaches for the bag and peeks inside. His lip curls as he reaches into the bag and pulls out a pair of navy-and-white checked fleece pajama pants. “What’s up with these?”
“Monday is pajama day.” I do my best to keep my tone even. Pleasant. “So we’ll wear matching PJs and T-shirts.”
“Aren’t you cute? With the PJs?” He’s mimicking me, his voice rising to a higher pitch. “I think you just want to think about the two of us in bed together, Callahan.”
“Stop it.” I yank the pants out of his hands and stuff them back into the bag. “Your stupid remarks are just that: stupid. If you want to win, we have to dress up together and match. Plus we have to play the games together and actually try to win. Participation counts.”
“Maybe I don’t want to play the games.”
“Then we won’t win.”
“Maybe I don’t want to do that either.”
I roll my eyes, but deep down inside, I’m worried. I’m dying to win, not that I can ever admit it to him. But I won’t win if I have to carry Ash through the entire week while he does nothing. “Come on. Winning won’t be that bad.”
“If I have to play a bunch of stupid games to win, then it’s going to suck.” He slumps in his chair and crosses his arms, reminding me of a big ol’ baby.