Safe Bet
Page 36
“I was great,” I say, in full on defensive mode. “What instrument did you play?”
“Clarinet.”
Worst instrument ever. “And I’m sure you sucked.”
“Miserably. I didn’t even last beyond sixth grade. Couldn’t take it anymore and I begged my mom to let me quit. So she did.” I can feel Sydney’s gaze on me, but I don’t turn to look her way. “Why did you quit the band?”
“Football. I couldn’t do both, so I had to choose. I chose football.” I scowl at the stretch of road before us. “Didn’t regret that choice either.”
“I’m sure.” She shakes her head, giggling like she’s a little girl in the middle of a laughing fit. “I don’t know why I found that so funny.”
“What, the fact that I was in the school band? I don’t either, considering you were in band too, playing the stupid clarinet.”
“Hey, don’t insult my instrument choice. Lots of people play the clarinet,” she says defensively.
“Badly.”
“Aw, you’re mad, aren’t you? Don’t be mad.” She rests her hand on my knee for a too brief second before removing it. “I was just teasing you about your secret life as a band geek.”
“Uh huh. And what deep dark secret do you have lingering in your murky past?” I ask, desperate to change the subject. Plus it would be nice to gather some ammo to use against her in the future.
“Nothing.” She sits up straight, not even looking in my direction. “I’m squeaky clean. My clarinet years are the only secret I have.”
I stay quiet for a while, enjoying watching her squirm. Because yes, she really is squirming over there in the passenger seat. I’ve barely said anything and I can tell she’s uncomfortable. “Sure, that’s your only secret,” I finally drawl.
“For real.” I glance over to find Sydney glaring at me, her pretty blue eyes narrowed and her expression fiery. “You’re being really rude right now.”
“Hey. I was only teasing.” Damn, she’s sensitive tonight. We’re both a little touchy, I guess. This morning’s kiss was probably a huge mistake. Now we’re both wound up, snapping at each other, and that sucks. We still have a solid five days left of this plan.
How are we going to survive it?
“Fine,” she murmurs after a few minutes of tense silence. “I do have a secret.”
Shock courses through me. “You do?” I was just giving her shit. I didn’t believe she was really hiding something.
“Yeah.” Her voice is soft. “It’s nothing major, I guess. Well, I don’t like talking about it much, especially since it just happened.”
“If you don’t want to tell me, I understand. You don’t have to,” I say, the words rushing out of me. “It’s none of my business. I was just teasing you.”
“No, I want to tell you.”
“You don’t have to, though.”
“But I want to.”
No way do I want her to feel like I’m forcing her to tell me anything. We are on a need-to-know basis right now, and I can tell this is something I don’t need to know. Just because we’re playing at having a relationship doesn’t mean we have to play true confessions. She’s allowed her secrets.
Just like I’m allowed mine.
“Only if you want to tell me,” I say. “Don’t feel obligated.”
“I don’t. It’s really not that big of a deal. There’s no scandalous tale, no secret baby or anything like that,” she says casually.
Meanwhile, my heart just did a double flip. “Secret baby?”
“Right. No babies. So don’t be scared.”
Yeah. The last thing I want to hear about is a secret baby. “What is it then?”
Sydney takes a deep breath and slowly lets it all out, sounding like a deflating tire. “My family is rich.”
I let that sink in for a moment. She says nothing else, just leaves that one statement hanging in the air and I try to wrap my head around it.
“How rich are we talking?”
“Millionaire status.” She pauses. “Millions and millions.”
“Tens of millions?” Because holy shit.
“Hundreds of millions.” Another hesitation. “They just kicked me out of the house.”
Hundreds of millions? Damn. She’s not just rich. She’s fucking rich.
“Why’d they kick you out?” I’m angry all over again, but this time on her behalf. How could her parents kick her out of their home? They must be mean, heartless creatures who don’t give a shit about their child. Who does that? Such bullshit.
“I lied to them.”
I glance over to see she’s staring at her lap, her gaze seemingly focused on her hand as she picks at the hole in the knee of her jeans.
“What about?”
“I said I was in college when I wasn’t. I never applied to any universities because, at the time, I didn’t care. I didn’t want to go. I believed I didn’t have to go, that my family’s money would take care of me for life. Isn’t that stupid?” She lifts her head, her gaze meeting mine, and I want to immediately tell her that no, it wasn’t stupid.
If she’d gone on to college, we would’ve never met. If she’d gone on to college, she would be somewhere else. And I would’ve been here. Alone.
“Clarinet.”
Worst instrument ever. “And I’m sure you sucked.”
“Miserably. I didn’t even last beyond sixth grade. Couldn’t take it anymore and I begged my mom to let me quit. So she did.” I can feel Sydney’s gaze on me, but I don’t turn to look her way. “Why did you quit the band?”
“Football. I couldn’t do both, so I had to choose. I chose football.” I scowl at the stretch of road before us. “Didn’t regret that choice either.”
“I’m sure.” She shakes her head, giggling like she’s a little girl in the middle of a laughing fit. “I don’t know why I found that so funny.”
“What, the fact that I was in the school band? I don’t either, considering you were in band too, playing the stupid clarinet.”
“Hey, don’t insult my instrument choice. Lots of people play the clarinet,” she says defensively.
“Badly.”
“Aw, you’re mad, aren’t you? Don’t be mad.” She rests her hand on my knee for a too brief second before removing it. “I was just teasing you about your secret life as a band geek.”
“Uh huh. And what deep dark secret do you have lingering in your murky past?” I ask, desperate to change the subject. Plus it would be nice to gather some ammo to use against her in the future.
“Nothing.” She sits up straight, not even looking in my direction. “I’m squeaky clean. My clarinet years are the only secret I have.”
I stay quiet for a while, enjoying watching her squirm. Because yes, she really is squirming over there in the passenger seat. I’ve barely said anything and I can tell she’s uncomfortable. “Sure, that’s your only secret,” I finally drawl.
“For real.” I glance over to find Sydney glaring at me, her pretty blue eyes narrowed and her expression fiery. “You’re being really rude right now.”
“Hey. I was only teasing.” Damn, she’s sensitive tonight. We’re both a little touchy, I guess. This morning’s kiss was probably a huge mistake. Now we’re both wound up, snapping at each other, and that sucks. We still have a solid five days left of this plan.
How are we going to survive it?
“Fine,” she murmurs after a few minutes of tense silence. “I do have a secret.”
Shock courses through me. “You do?” I was just giving her shit. I didn’t believe she was really hiding something.
“Yeah.” Her voice is soft. “It’s nothing major, I guess. Well, I don’t like talking about it much, especially since it just happened.”
“If you don’t want to tell me, I understand. You don’t have to,” I say, the words rushing out of me. “It’s none of my business. I was just teasing you.”
“No, I want to tell you.”
“You don’t have to, though.”
“But I want to.”
No way do I want her to feel like I’m forcing her to tell me anything. We are on a need-to-know basis right now, and I can tell this is something I don’t need to know. Just because we’re playing at having a relationship doesn’t mean we have to play true confessions. She’s allowed her secrets.
Just like I’m allowed mine.
“Only if you want to tell me,” I say. “Don’t feel obligated.”
“I don’t. It’s really not that big of a deal. There’s no scandalous tale, no secret baby or anything like that,” she says casually.
Meanwhile, my heart just did a double flip. “Secret baby?”
“Right. No babies. So don’t be scared.”
Yeah. The last thing I want to hear about is a secret baby. “What is it then?”
Sydney takes a deep breath and slowly lets it all out, sounding like a deflating tire. “My family is rich.”
I let that sink in for a moment. She says nothing else, just leaves that one statement hanging in the air and I try to wrap my head around it.
“How rich are we talking?”
“Millionaire status.” She pauses. “Millions and millions.”
“Tens of millions?” Because holy shit.
“Hundreds of millions.” Another hesitation. “They just kicked me out of the house.”
Hundreds of millions? Damn. She’s not just rich. She’s fucking rich.
“Why’d they kick you out?” I’m angry all over again, but this time on her behalf. How could her parents kick her out of their home? They must be mean, heartless creatures who don’t give a shit about their child. Who does that? Such bullshit.
“I lied to them.”
I glance over to see she’s staring at her lap, her gaze seemingly focused on her hand as she picks at the hole in the knee of her jeans.
“What about?”
“I said I was in college when I wasn’t. I never applied to any universities because, at the time, I didn’t care. I didn’t want to go. I believed I didn’t have to go, that my family’s money would take care of me for life. Isn’t that stupid?” She lifts her head, her gaze meeting mine, and I want to immediately tell her that no, it wasn’t stupid.
If she’d gone on to college, we would’ve never met. If she’d gone on to college, she would be somewhere else. And I would’ve been here. Alone.
