"Oh really." Dad smiled. "You don't say. That must be nice."
"Yeah," I said, "it's weird, though. Dare and I never talked before this year."
"Really?" Mom asked.
I nodded, watching my dad. "We don't have much in common, but now it's like he's always around."
"You're beautiful, funny, intelligent and genuine, Viola," Mom said. "Maybe he just enjoys your company."
"Maybe," I said.
"And do you enjoy being with him?"
"Oh yeah. Dare and I are getting along great. It's almost too good to be true."
My Dad's eye twitched at that, but he said nothing, holding his secret bargain tight to the chest. If I had any doubt that he needed to be taught a lesson, it was dispelled in that moment. Now, I just had to figure out my own plan—whatever that ended up being—and how best to put it in motion.
"You know," Mom added, "I wouldn't be surprised if something more develops between the two of you."
Dad grunted. "Sal, come on. They wouldn't be good together, not like that."
She just smiled. "Sometimes opposites attract."
"I'm telling you," he said, "nothing is going to happen. Not between my baby girl and Dare. No way."
"It would serve you right if it did." Mom shot me a wink as my father scowled. "Just think. They could fall in love, end up getting married years down the line, have a whole bunch of soccer-playing babies, and it would all be thanks to you."
Dad groaned, and I couldn't help but laugh.
Even with the screwed up situation, the thought of Dare and me? Together?
That would make anyone giggle.
Even on Monday as I was getting my books out of my locker between classes, the memory of dinner, Mom's words and the look of horror on Dad's face had me smiling.
"You know, nothing's changed."
My expression dropped as I turned to find Whitney, standing at my side. Her long brown hair hung in waves around her shoulders, the makeup she wore accentuating every feature but especially playing up her tiny nose and flawless skin—which I knew she thought was her best feature. How she'd managed to slither over without me noticing I didn't know. But she'd always been sneaky like that.
"Dare has to be nice to you since you drive him to school now," she said then ran a hand through her hair. "But everyone still thinks you're a loser."
It was hard, but I stopped myself from rolling my eyes.
"Awesome," I said. "Is that all?"
"Yeah, also, you're so not on Tyson's level." My stomach clenched as she went on. "It's really sad, but guys like him and Dare, they have standards. They really value a girl's appearance and how they take care of themselves."
Whitney's eyes traveled the length of my body before she once again met my eyes.
"That's just how guys are."
"Wow, it's so nice of you to let me know," I said.
Whitney's face got all pinched, and I took pleasure in her confusion. "You're just not in their league. That's all I'm saying."
"Okay, I really appreciate the reminder. Thanks."
"You're welcome."
She obviously wanted to say more but wasn't sure her taunts were hitting their mark.
"Stay humble, Viola."
I hummed as she walked away then quietly, under my breath said, "Yeah sure. Drink bleach, Whitney."
She stopped a few feet away, turned around. "What was that?"
Maybe I hadn't been as quiet as I thought.
"Oh, nothing," I said and waved her on. "Thanks again. That was super helpful."
Her frown was fierce, making these deep lines appear at the corners of her mouth. If she'd known how unattractive it made her look, I was sure she'd never make that face again. Girls like Whitney hated looking ugly. But sometimes you just can't hide the ugliness inside.
With one last glare, she huffed and walked off.
A low chuckle had me spinning around, and I found Dare behind me, having come from who knows where, shaking his head.
"Drink bleach," he repeated. "That's savage."
I lifted my chin. "It's one of my favorite insults. My mom came up with it actually."
"Nice," Dare said.
Holding out a hand, I said, "So friend, what's up? Make any more deals with my dad that I should know about?"
He had the nerve to grin. "Nope, day's not over yet though. You never know."
"Oh, and he has jokes," I said. "I'm glad my humiliation is so amusing to you."
Dare shook head like I was the cutest thing.
"What do you want, Dare? And don't say it's about treats. I definitely gave you your breakfast this morning and saw you at lunch today. There's no way you're hungry."
"You know, you shouldn't watch what people eat," he pointed out. "Also, wow. I know you're mad about the thing with your dad, but there's no need to fat shame me."
My neck jerked back, appalled at what he was implying. "I wasn't. I mean, I didn't mean to—"
Dare chuckled. "Calm down, flower, I was just kidding."
"Gah!" I put my hands on my hips. "Why would you do that? I felt bad for a second. I'd never fat shame anyone. Ever."
"Well, you kind of just did," he said. "Unintentionally. But lucky for you, I have a very healthy ego."
Understatement of the century, I thought.
"Though my parents are always on me about my diet."
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," I said. Weight was a very touchy subject for me. I'd always struggled with it, and I felt awful thinking I might have hurt his feelings. "You're not fat, Dare. Not that there's anything wrong with being fat anyway. But you're not. You're actually pretty fit."
After a beat, Dare smiled. "Man, you are so easy."
My eyes closed at
