Page 85 of Wallflower

His brow furrowed. "But it's the only explanation that makes sense."

Mom placed her hand on his forearm. "There's another more plausible one, and I think you just can't see it," she said.

"Tell me then," he said. "Please."

"They like each other."

"No way. Dare's one of my players. He knows the unwritten rules. And Viola would never—"

"Viola would," she said, "if her heart got involved. You know how deeply she feels things."

"That's true." He shook his head unable to believe it. "But Sal…Dare would stay away from her if only out of respect for me."

"Not if he fell for her, too," Mom said gently. "Becks. You should've seen the way he was looking at her."

Dad's eyes flashed to hers. "How was he looking at her?"

"The way you look at me," she said.

Had Dare really been looking at me in a special way? My brow pinched as I tried to remember his exact expression. I saw my father's jaw clench, and Mom reached out to run a hand along his cheek. Her touch obviously soothed him, but still he frowned.

"God, what have I done?" Dad muttered.

"You?" Mom laughed. "Sorry to break it to you. But this was just two kids having one hot make-out session."

"Ugh, can you please not say things like that?"

"I only meant it has nothing to do with you."

His wince was unmistakable. "You might be surprised."

I went to walk back toward my room, but the floorboard squeaked, alerting them to my presence.

"Viola," Mom called, "is that you?"

Walking lightly in place and then louder, feeling like an idiot as I pretended to walk down the hall, I turned the corner a minute later. "Yeah hey, Mom. How's it going?"

"Going okay," she said. "Are you sad you missed the party last night?"

They'd still been awake when I got home, but I'd said something about a headache and went to bed. It was actually the truth. After that amazing kiss and all the thoughts running rampant through my mind, I'd felt worn out.

"Not really," I said. "I probably would've done or said something stupid if I'd gone anyway."

"But Dare stayed," Dad said. It wasn't a question.

"Yep," I said and looked over at the clock behind his head. "I should get going."

"Where are you off to?" he asked, trying (and failing) to sound indifferent.

"To the shelter," I said slowly. "Like I do almost every Sunday."

"You're not going to see Dare Frost?"

I shook my head. "No, like I've told you guys before, the shelter's in desperate need of more volunteers, and I love the animals there—especially my girl, Hermione. Guess I'll see you later."

"But—"

Mom spoke over him. "Okay, baby, we'll see you in a bit."

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