Playing the Player(76)

The world tilted on its axis, and I couldn’t believe my legs still propelled me forward.

“You…you bet Slade that he’d…he’d…”

“Hook up with you. Yeah, totally. And he won, but it’s cool. Best fifty bucks I ever spent.”

A bet? My mind reeled with visions of all the time we’d spent together. The chick flicks we’d watched in his basement. The nighttime walks that had become our thing. Hanging out with the kids at the shelter. The swim lessons. The make-out sessions that left me barely able to stand.

It was all to win a bet?

I let the crowd surge around me, watching Alex disappear in the sea of moving bodies. Maybe I could hitchhike. Take a bus. Pitch a tent and never go home.

My cell buzzed and buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it. I waited for the tears but they didn’t come. Instead, I felt numb. Completely dead inside.

Screw it. I’d stay here all night if I had to. No way was I getting in a car with Slade.



Eventually I got sick of the phone’s constant buzzing. My screen lit up with a zillion text messages and voicemail notifications. Against my better judgment, I listened to the first message.

“Where are you? Trina, I’m freaking out! I’m about to call the cops.” Slade sounded genuinely worried. Pretty good acting for a guy who just cared about winning a bet.

I texted quickly. Go home without me. I’ll get a ride somehow.

WTF? Where are you?? R u ok??

I sat on a rock for a while, ignoring all the people stumbling around me, laughing and still singing songs from the concert, while he blew up my phone with more texts and calls.

I sent another text. You won the bet. You’re free to go.

His reply came slower this time, but it was a doozy. If you don’t tell me where you are, I’m grabbing one of the cops on duty and we’re going to find you if it takes all night.

God. I staggered to my feet, still numb and dead inside. Fine. I’d ride in the backseat on the way home. Run to my apartment and lock the door. Quit my job. Never see him again.

I sent another message. I remember where we parked. Don’t say a word to me. Just take me home.

About ten minutes later, I found them. Alex and Tim stood huddled together, whispering and darting wary looks at Slade, who sat on the hood of his Jetta, eyes narrowed, waiting. He didn’t move when he saw me.

I stopped right in front of him. “Take me home,” I whispered.

His eyes bored into mine. “I have a lot to say.” His voice was low and angry. “There’s been a big misunderstanding.” He shot a glare at Alex, who stared at the ground, kicking his feet.

What the hell gave Slade the right to be angry? I owned the angry tonight.

“I don’t want to hear it.” I turned away and wrenched the back door open. Tim slid in next to me, and Alex sat in the front with Slade.

Slade cranked up the stereo and we drove the whole way home without speaking. For the first time ever, he didn’t walk me to the door, or even to the bottom of the stairs. His car squealed out of the parking lot, and he didn’t look back.





Chapter Forty

Trina

Monday, July 15

“It’s got to be a misunderstanding,” Desi said. She perched on the end of my bed, pawing through my tub of nail polish. She held up a bright green bottle. “Is it me?”

I shook my head.

“You’re right. Too Comic Con.”

How could she focus on nail polish at a time like this? “You do realize I’m dying inside, right? Heartbroken. Devastated.”

She held up a red bottle full of swirling glitter. “This is more me, I think.” She tilted her head and smiled at me. “Yes, I’m aware of the situation. The emo vibes coming off you and Slade have darkened the aura of the entire state of Colorado.”

I sat up straighter. “Why are you talking to him? Your loyalty should be to me.”

She tossed the polish into the tub then crossed her legs, facing me on the bed.

“My loyalty is to true love. Which is why I’m stuck playing mediator between you two.”

“There’s nothing to mediate. He used me, Desi. To win a freaking bet.”

She scooted back on the bed, leaning against the headboard and stretching out her long legs. “I don’t believe that. He has never, and I mean never, treated a girl the way he treated you.” She glanced at me, her eyes narrowed. “He’s a wreck, girlfriend. He wants to explain everything, but you won’t answer his calls or texts.”

I plucked at a loose thread on my bedspread, not looking at her. “Duh.”

“You know, I never thought I’d say this, but you’re kind of being a bitch.”

I jerked my head up, shocked at her words. “What? I’m the bad guy?”