"You're doing it again," Dad pointed out.
"I was just thinking about one of the dogs at the shelter," I said. "Hermione's so wonderful, but she's been there a while. I'm just surprised nobody's snapped her up—though I'll probably be devastated if she ever is adopted."
"Ah," Mom said, "I know that must be hard on you, Viola. You've always been the type to get attached, wear your heart on your sleeve. And you even get to name them—wonderful choice by the way. Loving the animals and then having to let them go can't be easy."
I nodded. "It's not. But I care enough about them to want all of the animals to find homes."
"I could ask the people at work if they need a pet," Dad said with a wink. "Might even be able to get the news to cover the shelter. There's a guy who owes me a favor."
The effect was instant. My eyes narrowed on the word "favor," and though he was still my favorite muggle, I couldn't forget what he'd done. My thirst for payback was still unquenched. I had to do something.
"Yeah, that would be great," I said while mentally planning my revenge. Before I could get too far, however, Dad interrupted me again.
"Hey, I meant to tell you. I saw you at practice today," he said.
I swallowed, instantly alert. "Did you?"
"Sure did," Dad smiled. "Though at first, I thought I was hallucinating. You never come out to the field."
"What were you doing there?" Mom asked.
Dare's slow smile face flashed in my mind, but I pushed it away.
"Nothing much," I said, trying and failing not to think of the kiss.
"I was going to come talk to you," Dad added, "but got held up by one of the assistant coaches. You were already gone by the time I got out there."
The breath that left me was pure relief.
"Oh, sorry," I said. "Dare asked for a ride home—though he ended up getting a lift from someone else."
"Well, that's odd," Mom said.
I totally agreed.
"It's too bad you had to sit through practice." Mom waggled her eyebrows. "But did you at least get to ogle some cute, sweaty guys? I've always said that's the best part of soccer."
I blushed, thinking back to how good Dare had looked on the field.
Before I could answer, Dad grinned. "Yeah, right," he said. "Viola would never do that."
"Do what?" Mom said.
"Check out my players."
Of course I would, I thought. A girl's only got so much self-control—or at least this girl did. Mom was right. The only part I'd enjoyed about being out there had been seeing the team (and okay, mostly Dare) looking so fine.
Mom scoffed. "If you think that," she said to my dad, "you're nuts."
Dad just shook his head. "Viola knows better. She'd never get involved with one of my guys. She'd never even lay a finger on them."
Yeah, it was probably a good thing he hadn't seen the kiss, I thought. My hands had been all over Dare. The memory sent a shiver up my spine.
"And my team definitely knows better," Dad said with certainty, like it was law, indisputable. "I'm the coach, and she's my daughter. It's like an unwritten rule. If one of them looked sideways at her let alone touched her, there would be hell to pay."
Definitely lucky he hadn't seen the kiss, I thought again.
Dad sounded so sure, so confident. He'd also said that last bit like a warning. What would he have done if he'd seen Dare and I kissing like that in the stands? It would've left him shook. And the fact that it was his prize player, the guy he'd had me drive to school every day? Gah, it would make him feel so, so…guilty.
My eyes widened.
The idea was perfect.
It had been staring me in the face the whole time. The notes I'd jotted down at the field pointed directly to this conclusion. But it was this conversation that made me see the light.
I needed Dare to play my fake boyfriend again.
But this time, I'd let my dad catch us.
No, that left too much up to chance. I'd make sure he did, orchestrate it so he'd walk in on us in a compromising position, make him think I'd developed feelings for Dare. Then once the appropriate amount of time had passed, once he was well and truly sorry for hiring Dare to be my freaking friend in the first place, only then would I tell him the truth.
The plan was uncomplicated. But a lot of times the most brilliant ideas were just that: simple and effective.
I might've never thought of it without Dare, helping me save face in front of Whitney and the others. I'd have to thank him the next time I saw him—and of course, I'd need to convince him to play along. But how hard could that be? He'd already taken it upon himself once to play the part of my imaginary boyfriend. I just had to persuade him to do it again.
My inner Slytherin smirked.
"Okay, I have to know," Mom said, bringing me back to the here and now where both of my parents were looking at me a little funny. "What's that face about?"
"What face?" I said.
Dad tilted his head. "It looked like you were plotting something."
I had to bite down on my lip to keep the evil laughter at bay.
"I just figured out the solution to a problem I've been working on," I said.
"If
