“I told her I was going with someone else.”
Now I’m confused. “You are?”
Grant laughs, like I must be joking. “I mean, I’m hoping you’ll ask me.”
I scoff lightheartedly. “Oh, you want me to ask you. Presumptuous.”
“You’re the one attending Blackwood, so … yeah.” He pauses when my words sink in. “Wait. You’re going to, right?”
I shrug. Grant’s cheeks redden even more. Until he notices the tiny grin I can’t hide. He grabs me by the waist and rolls me onto my back. I let out a squeal as he pins my hands above my head.
“How are you going to ask me?” Grant kisses a ticklish spot on my neck, making me shriek and buck beneath him.
“What do you mean?” I ask breathlessly when he finally relents.
He lifts his head to study me. “You’ve never been asked to a dance before?”
I shake my head. “Never.”
“Oh.” He considers this for a moment, releasing my hands, but not removing his body from atop mine. “So Blackwood has a dance every month. And three are formal ones—at the beginning of the school year, in the winter and another in the spring. They’re a big deal. Like prom or homecoming in public schools. So the person asking usually does it in some sort of grand gesture.”
I’m afraid to ask because I know it will only add to my guilt. “How did Sophia ask?”
Grant pushes off me and sits back against the tree. I roll on my side and wait for an answer. His entire face is completely red with embarrassment.
I bite my lip, bracing myself. “Please tell me.”
He looks down at the ground, plucking at the grass. “She had a bunch of kids in the pool hold up beach balls with a letter on them to read Ever After Ball?, and a couple guys lifted her up out of the water. She was wearing some sort of mermaid outfit and had a fork in her hand. I guess from the—”
“Little Mermaid,” I finish quietly. My mouth drops open. “She did this in front of everyone? At the pool?”
Grant peers sheepishly through his lashes and nods.
“Oh no,” I gasp.
Now her mortified reaction makes even more sense.
“Yeah,” he sighs. “It was sweet. But …”
“I’m an idiot,” I blurt out.
“I hope you mean that in a good way?” He examines me, a brow raised.
I stand and begin pacing, except I don’t realize I’m pacing until Grant intercepts me, his hands on my shoulders.
I stare blindly into cloudless eyes.
“Talk to me,” he implores.
“I killed her dreams. I am the worst person in the world. You have to go with her. You have to find her and tell her you changed your mind.”
When Sophia sat across from me on the bus with wistful adoration in her eyes, I gave her hope. I let her believe that she may have a chance with Grant. All because I was too chickenshit to admit how I felt about him. I messed with her head to avoid delving into my own.
But even more than that, I saw the underlying glint of desperation in her pupil-blown gaze. Within the tense arch of her brows. And strain of her maniacal smile. She needed to believe she had a chance with the one guy, the nicest guy, to go to a fricken dance.
“Why would you say that?”
I’m starting to freak him out—I can see it in the frown creasing his beautiful face.
“I just … she’s fragile, Grant. Her guise of perfectionism is the only thing holding her together. She really wanted to go with you. I’m the reason she asked you! And I don’t want to be the reason she goes off the deep end, thinking I played her. Besides, it’s just a dumb dance. You should go with Sophia.”
“You want me to lie to her, so you don’t feel guilty?”
“I want you to go with her because I don’t give a shit about this dance, and she does. And because … you’re a good guy.”
The crease of Grant’s frown deepens. “But … I don’t want to.”
“Why? It’s not that big a deal.” My indifferent rebuttal disturbs him even more.
It’s Grant’s turn to pace. He looks like he’s trying to find the right words while fighting for composure. Probably what I look like after speaking with Brendan. I watch him silently. Grant is the most contained, easy-mannered person I’ve ever met … until he’s passionate about something. But I never expected it to be about a dance.
He stops before me and takes a breath before speaking, “Tell me this. What is it with girls thinking they decide who gets the guy?”
I’m confused. It’s apparently all over my face, so he tries again.
“Like your promise to never be with a guy who’s been with any of your friends. At some point, you and your friend were both interested in him. You backed down to let her pursue him. You decided from the very beginning which of you he was going to like. Not even giving him a chance to get to know you.
“But what about the guy? Doesn’t he get a say?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Probably because I have no words to explain this. I’ve never even thought about his feelings before. I’ve always assumed guys don’t care and are happy with whichever girl wants them as long as she’s hot. I guess that’s pretty shallow of me now that I’m thinking about it. I’ve just never been proven wrong before.
“I’m not a commodity you get to pass off to make your friends feel better. I’m not interested in any of your friends. Never will be. I want to be with you. Only you, Lana. You’re more important to me than every other girl. So, no, I’m not going to change my mind and go to the stupid dance with Sophia. It’s you or no one.”
I stare at him, stunned. He waits patiently for everything he said to settle in. The passion and conviction behind every word. The hurt that I could so easily dismiss his desires in place of someone else’s. That I didn’t even consider his feelings. What he wanted.
“I’m sorry.”
The words are soft but strengthened with truth. They’re the only words that come out because they’re the ones that matter right now.
Our eyes lock. He nods once in acceptance.
My lips curl into a flirtatious smile. “Guess you’ll just have to wait for my grand proposal then.”
A mischievous glint lights up his eyes. “I will try to be patient.”
“Can I sit?” I tentatively approach Sophia when I locate her seated at a table outside the dining hall, studying.
Despite the fact that there are maybe fifty people on campus for the summer session, she’s done an expert job of avoiding me the past few days. Maybe she and Brendan share more skills than coding.
Sophia glances up quickly before averting her attention back to her book. “I guess.”
I slide my legs over the bench, sitting across from her. “I heard about your Ball-vitation.”
This gets her attention. She squints at me like I’m crazy.
“My what?”
I grin, happy it worked.
“Your invitation to the ball. Ball-vitation. Ashton came up with it. Thought you’d think it was cute.” I shrug awkwardly. “Or not. I thought it was weird too.”
Sophia giggles despite herself. “That definitely sounds like an Ashton word.” Then she deflates again. “Grant told you?” She sets her pen down and sighs. “I didn’t know you were a couple.” I resist the urge to flinch. “If I had, I never would’ve asked him.”