Page 75 of Defiant
Jaz must’ve sensed the unease at the table, for she went on, “I also went dress shopping.”
Dante smirked. “For what?”
This was, at least, something I knew the answer to, though I did not know exactly why she’d want to go to it. “The winter formal is in less than two weeks.” Technically not this weekend, but next. I never put much thought into dances, because they weren’t my thing, but maybe they were Jaz’s.
Would I suck it up and go to one if it meant I’d get to spend more time with her?
Of course. The answer to that was obviously a yes.
“A dance?” Dante echoed, laughing to himself. “A fucking dance? Come on, who the fuck wants to dry hump each other while teachers stand twenty feet away leering like creeps?”
Jaz shrugged. “I was going to ask you guys if you wanted to go with me, but if you don’t want to—”
“I’ll dry hump you all you want, with as big of an audience as you want,” Dante quickly said, changing his tune. “Hell, screw the dry humping. I’ll fuck you on the dance floor.”
It was a good thing he’d taken that spork away from me, otherwise I might be lunging over this table and using it to gouge out his eyes. With a comment like that, it was hard not to jump straight to violence, like some family members I knew. Maybe I was a bit more like them than I’d thought.
And then, as my mind wondered what Dante would do if I plucked out his eyes with a plastic spork, her words really hit me. I looked at her, putting it together before Dante did. “You were going to ask both of us?”
Dante’s sudden switch of demeanor was palpable. “You mean asking us if we’re going to the dance, or asking us both to be your date to the dance?” He needed it spelled out for him, and I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes.
“I could imagine having each of you on an arm,” she mused, heaving a sigh as she thought about it, like being stuck between us was something she’d thought quite a lot about. Two dangerous, tattooed bad boys at her service.
I wanted to speak, wanted to tell her she was absolutely out of her mind if she thought I’d ever want to pull up to a dance with Dante, even if it meant I’d have her all dolled-up in a dress. Truth be told, I didn’t care what she wore or what she looked like; Jaz was beautiful no matter what.
But me dealing with Dante for more time than I already was forced to? Ugh, I didn’t know if I could do it.
Although, if there was anyone I would try for, it was her.
When neither of us said anything, when all Dante and I could do was stare at each other, as if wondering how to best get rid of the other guy, Jaz said, “Think about it, okay? I have something planned for the dance, and I’d feel better if you two were there with me.”
That got both of us to quit our staring contest and look at her. Jaz had something planned? What in the hell did that mean? She was supposed to let me handle things. Well, me and, by extension, Dante.
“What?” I asked.
“Yeah, what do you have planned in that devious brain of yours?” Dante grinned, leaning on the table, his leather jacket wrinkling as he did so.
“If you guys come, you’ll see,” Jaz whispered, saying nothing else as she began to eat.
Dante and I watched her, exchanging looks every now and then. It was clear neither of us wanted her to do anything, especially on her own. Which, when it came down to it, meant he and I would have to suck it up and be there for her, in case she needed us.
I would rather go with her and Dante, be there even if she didn’t end up needing me, than not go and have something disastrous happen.
As the saying went: better safe than sorry.
The end of the school day came quicker than I anticipated. I planned on finding Jaz and telling her that I would go to the dance with her, regardless of whether or not Dante was, but I was quite literally ambushed as I left the last class of the day and headed to her locker.
Who ambushed me? None other than the tatted, leather-wearing guy who put unease in everyone’s stomachs; everyone other than mine.
Funny how the girls stayed away from him. Maybe they’d learned their lesson with me, getting nowhere in spite of their attempts to.They thought he was hot, but they wouldn’t touch him.
Dante dragged me to an empty hall, one that held only classrooms and no lockers. “Hey, man,” he spoke, meeting my eyes with a serious expression—something he did not normally wear. “Ever since lunch, I’ve been thinking.”
Yeah? He wasn’t the only one, if so.
I said nothing, because I really wasn’t one to talk needlessly, unlike Dante. He spoke enough for the both of us put together.
“I don’t like seeing her with you, and you don’t like seeing her with me,” Dante went on, shrugging, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. To the both of us, it was. “If we both go to this dance, it’s not going to be all fun and games. But, I think, for her sake, we should try.”
