I DROPPED my lunch on the table in the AV room, ignoring Mr. Davis in the corner with his headphones on.
The girls looked at me, their smiles turning from excited to curious. “What’s going on?” Ginger said.
I sat down. “We made some progress, but we have to do more if Beckett is going to fall for me by homecoming. We need to figure out what he likes in a girl, and I need to become that.”
Jordan frowned. “I thought you had a good time?” “I did, but what about him?”
Zara asked, “Did he talk to you this morning?”
“He said hi.” I shrugged. “No mention of hanging out again. We need a plan.”
Zara shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. He seemed so interested.” Ginger got up and went to grab a whiteboard and an easel from near Mr.
Davis. “What if we write down some ideas? Brainstorm, you know?”
“The problem is that he’s never really dated around,” Zara said. “Other than Merritt, he hasn’t had any official girlfriends.”
I frowned. “Well, if we’re basing his type on Merritt, I’m hopeless.” “Not true,” Callie said. “He hung out with you, took you to the bakery,
danced with you. If what he’s saying is true, Merritt doesn’t even know he works there.”
My spirits lifted. “That’s true.”
“I have another idea,” Callie said. “What if Carson has Beckett over to his house? Asks him what he likes in a girl?”
Zara nodded. “That could work. Then we’d have more to go off of.”
“Yeah, but will he actually remember everything Beckett says?” Jordan frowned. “My boyfriend is so forgetful. We could have a twenty-minute conversation and he’d only remember one thing.”
“We could film it,” Ginger said. “We have some mics and stuff I could set up.”
I stared at them. “Like bug Carson’s room? Isn’t that illegal?”
“Nope,” Ginger said. “We just covered this in journalism. It’s okay if one of the people knows they’re being recorded. So if Carson knows, we’re set.” She turned to Callie. “Think he’d go for it?”
Callie smiled and got out her phone. “I can ask.”
We watched as she typed a message into her Sermo app.
Callie: Hey, crazy question. Can you have Beckett hang out at your house, ask him what he likes in girls, and let us record it? For the bet?
Dots appeared on the screen.
Carson: Hello to you too.
Callie groaned, and her fingers flew over the screen.
Callie: Please? It’s really important.
More dots…
Carson: What’s in it for me?
We all looked at each other, and Zara said, “I can get him premier tickets to the Ryde Alexander movie coming out this summer. My dad’s producing it.”
“Seriously? Callie said. “He would so go for that.”
With confirmation from Zara, she typed more words into their chat.
Callie: A movie ticket to the Ryde Alexander movie premier has your name on it.
“And he can go to the after-party,” Zara said.
Callie: And you’ll be on the after-party guest list. Carson: Now I know you’re lying.
Callie snapped a picture of Zara and sent it to Carson.
Callie: Her dad’s producing the movie. We’ve got an in. Carson: Throw in some popcorn and you’ve got a deal.
We laughed, and Zara rolled her eyes. “We’ve got him covered.”
Callie: Deal. Let me know what day.
For a few minutes we watched the phone, but when we didn’t see any messages, we continued eating our lunch.
Callie’s phone buzzed on the table.
Carson: Wednesday night at 7. Be there at 5 to set up. Callie: THANK YOU.
Carson: You’re welcome, crazy girl.
Callie’s cheeks heated as she took her phone and tucked it back in her bag. “Well, we’re set.”
“What do we do until then, Crazy Girl?” I asked. Callie blushed and shook her head.
“We wait,” Zara said.
 |
Even though I’d never had two days pass more slowly in my life, Wednesday finally came. We rode in Callie’s car to her house, as to not raise suspicion. Since Carson lived right next door, we walked to his house, and he guided us to his room.
There were football posters on the wall, a photo of him and Callie on the shelf, and one of him and all his older sisters on the wall. They were beautiful, each of them, with curves and hips and all.
As Ginger walked around the room, planting little microphones in obscure places, Carson said, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Callie put her hand on his shoulder. “Remember the tickets.”
He turned his eyes toward the ceiling. “Sold my soul to the devil, I did.” She laughed. “You sound like Yoda.”
“Someone in here needs to have some wisdom.”
Zara rolled her eyes. “This is all part of the plan. We need to know what Beckett likes in a girl, especially since he doesn’t like Merritt anymore. What is he looking for next?”
Carson sat on his bed. “I know, but I don’t want to see him get hurt either.” His eyes landed on me, waiting for a reassurance that I easily gave.
“I don’t want to hurt him,” I said. “I’ve liked him for years.” That last part was harder to admit, especially for how pathetic it sounded—secretly harboring a crush for someone and never doing anything about it.
“Years?” Carson asked. “I thought this was about a bet.”
I sat on Carson’s bed and sighed. “It was freshman year, after my best friend moved away. I was lonely, and no one wanted to pick me in freshman gym class. Like, ever. I was always last. One day, Beckett picked me first. He picked me. And after that, people didn’t tease me as much.” The familiar flood of shame and gratitude filled me. “I know he has a good heart, and the more I get to know him…the more I like him.” I sighed and put my head in my hands, knowing all of this was a longshot.
Callie put a hand on my back. “He would be lucky to have you.” Carson’s voice was gruff. “It sounds like it.”
“I think it’s the other way around,” I said earnestly, then looked up at the others, desperate for a change in subject. “Are we good to go, Ging? I don’t want to be here when Beckett shows up.”
“Almost,” she said. “I just need to figure out where to put this.” She held up a Star Wars pin. “It has a tiny camera in it so we can see what’s happening. Do you have a corkboard, Carson?”
He shook his head. “And my mom would kill me if we put a hole in the wall.”
“Hmm.” She stepped toward Carson, wielding the pin. He stepped back. “What are you doing with that thing?”
“I’m not going to stab you!” she cried. “I’m just going to put it in your shirt.”
“No way.” He backed up until his hips hit his desk and he had nowhere to go with all five of us girls in the room. “I’m not that big of a nerd.”
Callie moved from me and held his arm. “Do it for the tickets.”
“Is this what the dark side feels like?” he asked, only half joking, and held still as Ginger pinned it on his shirt. “This movie better be good.”
“Oh, it will be,” Zara said, an evil gleam in her eyes. “But not as good as the one we’re about to watch.”
Then the doorbell rang.
