“Are you talking about your idiotic theory?” I asked, my voice growing louder. “This didn’t happen because we were friends. This happened because as soon as we shared a real moment, you freaked out and disappeared.”
“I didn’t freak out,” he said, his voice a little louder as well, “but I could tell that you were going to make something huge out of a kiss, and I didn’t want it to fuck up our friendship.”
I felt like he’d slapped me with his I could tell that you were going to make something huge comment, as if he were the adult in the scenario who knew silly little Bailey was going to fall in love. As if I were a lovesick idiot.
“Uh, for starters, it wasn’t just a kiss, Charlie, and you know it,” I said, blinking fast as I tried keeping my thoughts straight. “But if anything fucked up our friendship, it was you ignoring me. Friends don’t do that.”
“Friends, friends,” he said, his words almost a groan. “It’s such bullshit.”
“No, your ideas are bullshit.”
“Really?” he asked, stepping a little closer. “Because it occurs to me that we’ve yet to discuss the fact that I actually won our bet. Because it wasn’t bullshit at all. I told you a long time ago that Theo and Nekesa were going to hook up, and I was right. You bet on friendship, and you lost because it’s impossible.”
“Oh my god, Theo told you he kissed her?”
So that guy was a dick, too.
“What the hell?”
Nekesa appeared from behind Charlie, where she’d apparently been hidden by his bigger, taller body.
Shit, shit, shit.
“What does that mean?” Nekesa asked, taking a step toward me. “You didn’t make a literal bet that we’d hook up, did you?”
“No!” I nearly shouted, panicking as she glared at me. I cleared my throat as my heart started pounding in my chest, and I said, “It’s not like that.” Right? How could I explain. “I mean, there was this… discussion that Charlie and I had.” Discussion? Jesus, Bailey!
Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes moved between Charlie and me. “What kind of garbage person makes a bet about their best friend?”
“It wasn’t like that,” I said, desperate to convince her. “Charlie just thought—”
“Charlie sure likes betting,” Theo said.
I hadn’t even noticed him standing beside Nekesa, but I could hardly keep up with the conversation, much less the attendance. He looked pissed as he glared at Charlie, which irritated me because this was none of his business. I mean yes, he’d been part of the bet, but I didn’t care how he felt about that.
Theo crossed his arms and said, “That wasn’t his only wager.”
I rolled my eyes—couldn’t help it. “No offense, Theo, but I—”
“Fuck off, Theo,” Charlie said, looking ready to fight.
“Oh, really?” Theo looked like a smug asshole because he was smirking in the midst of all the turmoil. “I should fuck off?”
“Spare us the machismo,” I muttered, out of patience.
“Machismo?” Theo barked, his smirk turning into a dickish grin. “He made a bet about you, Bailey.”
“What?” I didn’t get it.
“Theo,” Charlie said through gritted teeth. “Shut up.”
He looked angry, his face flushed and his eyes burning as he glared at Theo, which made me even angrier. I said, “No, you shut up, Charlie.”
And then I said—
“What are you talking about, Theo?”
Theo was still looking pleased with himself, like he was the puppeteer and was having the time of his life pulling all the strings.
“Charlie made a bet about you.” Theo said the words loudly, clearly, and while giving me direct eye contact. “With me.”
“What?” I pushed my hair out of my face and looked from Theo to Charlie. “What does that mean?”
“Yeah,” Nekesa said, looking at Theo with a question in her eyes as Eli and Dana showed up behind her. “What are you talking about?”
Charlie flexed his jaw, watching me.
“Charlie and I made a bet a few months ago,” Theo said, speaking to Nekesa now. “It was before any of us were friends. Charlie made a wager that he could get Bailey.”
I squinted and said, “Get?”
My face got hot with embarrassment as Charlie’s guilty gaze went to a spot just beyond my shoulder. His voice was quiet when he said, “It was just talk, Bay. It didn’t mean—”
“Oh my God,” I said, feeling dizzy—no, numb—as I realized the truth. Colorado, the pullout sofa, the blanket fort—that was all him getting me to win a bet. No wonder he was gone before I woke up; he’d already won.
Unless—my stomach churned as it occurred to me that everything we’d been through, said to each other, what we shared, was all to “get” me. And what the fuck did that mean?
I felt like such a fool. Had we ever been friends, or had our entire “relationship” been him trying to “get” me to win a bet?
“Bay,” he replied, his expression unreadable aside from the red splotches on each of his cheeks. “You have to know—”
“Shut up.” I wasn’t a violent person, but rage bubbled inside me and I wanted to hit something.
Someone.
Because he was only Mr. Nothing. All those times I’d looked at him and thought about how Charlie wasn’t at all what I’d initially judged him to be? That was just my own gullibility, my own pathetic wishful thinking.
He was Charlie from the airport, and I was a fool.
“Dana,” Nekesa said, jerking my attention from Charlie to her. She lifted her chin and said, “Can I get a ride home? I think it’s best if Bailey and I don’t share a car right now.”
I hated the expression on her face at that moment, because she looked as disappointed in me as I was in Charlie.
“Wait,” I said, holding out a hand in desperation as I stepped in front of her. “Please let me explain—”
“You don’t get to talk—are you kidding me with that?” Her nostrils flared and she shook her head in disgust. “I’m sorry, Bay, but I can’t… I just. Why,” was all she whispered before walking away. I watched Dana follow her, and I felt like a monster.
“Bailey.”
I looked back at Charlie, and his face was serious in a way I’d never seen. He almost looked scared, which was impossible because he’d have to be able to feel something to be scared.
“What, Charlie?” I bit out, trying to keep my emotions contained when all I wanted to do was cry. “What?”
“The bet was nothing,” he said, stepping closer to me. “I know it was wrong, but I made it before we became friends—”
“Coworkers,” I corrected.
“Friends,” he insisted.
“Really?” I hated him at that moment for having that face. He was staring at me, his dark eyes intense, and it wasn’t fair that his face still felt like a comfortable thing to me. So familiar that I knew his left eyebrow was marginally thicker than the right and he had the tiniest mole just to the left of his mouth. His face looked like the face of my best friend, a friend I could trust with anything. “Well, if that’s the case, you were a really shitty friend.”
“Don’t say ‘were.’?” He swallowed and clenched his jaw before he said, “We’re not past tense, Bay.”
“You made us past tense,” I said, my voice cracking, “not me.”
“Bailey—”