Page 39 of Every Hidden Truth

I ignored the obvious attention from the others at the table as I scooted closer to my distraught boyfriend. “I’ll go with you. Maybe it’ll be fun.”

“You’re only saying that because you feel guilty. That’s somehow worse.”

I shook my head, stammering denials. “What? No! Well, okay, yes, but I do wanna go with you. I mean, the dance is probably gonna be stupid, but you’re not. And if you wanna go, then I wanna go.” His mouth pressed into a disbelieving line, and Itook his hand firmly in mine. “For real, Ben. Let’s go to the dance.”

With a condescending pat to my hand, he dismissed me. “It’s not a big deal. I promise. I shouldn’t have overreacted. Let’s just eat and stop making everyone uncomfortable.”

Awkward chuckles echoed around the table as Ben took a drink of his Gatorade, and I scowled.

“Come to the dance with me,” I demanded, but he ignored me, choosing instead to gather his half-eaten tray and rise from his chair.

“I’m gonna throw my trash away,” he announced to no one in particular before walking away.

Seriously? He was going to make me do this, wasn’t he? Dammit.

Growling, I pushed away from the table, then climbed on top of my chair until I stood tall and proud for all to see. Ben’s passive-aggressive apathy meant he didn’t see me, and he jumped a foot in the air when I sucked in a breath and bellowed his name across the cafeteria. “Benjamin James Adams, sexiest diver on the swim team, I have a very important question to ask you!”

The lunchroom fell silent as Ben spun on me with wide eyes. “Silas—”

“I offer you this”—I searched my surroundings and plucked a chicken strip from my plate—“chicken strip as a symbol of my affection and officially request that you accompany me to the winter dance.”

Ronnie burst into laughter followed by Jordan, Kim, and numerous others throughout the room.

My face burned at the attention, but I didn’t move. I held the chicken strip as a peace offering as Ben grew increasingly red in the face.

“Get down from there,” he hissed, his skin beet-red.

With a shake of my head, I dangled the chicken in his line of vision. “Not until you agree to go to the dance with me.”

“Jesus Christ,” he cursed as he stalked toward me, his expression pinched. “Fine, we’ll go to the damn dance. Now, get down!”

Throwing my hands in the air, I cheered. “He said yes!”

Caroline and Kim joined me, shrieking in mock celebration as the majority of the student body grumbled and rolled their eyes.

Ben grasped my arm, and my obnoxious jubilation ended with a yelp as he yanked me from my high position on the chair.

He glared, pinning my arms to my side, and I smiled demurely as I feigned innocence. “See? Was that so hard?”

“You’re an asshole.” Shoving away from me, he crossed his arms over his chest.

“But you still like me.” I snatched the dance tickets away from a still chortling Jordan and presented them to him. “I’ll buy dinner.”

Air whistled through his nose as he glowered at the offending slips of paper before he seized them and shoved them into his pocket. “I’m gonna order the most expensive thing on the menu, and you’re not gonna say shit about it, okay?”

“Not a word.” I pantomimed zipping my lips shut and locking them with an invisible key.

Disgruntled, he plopped into his chair and sulked as I finished my now lukewarm chicken strips with a smug air. I nudged his leg with my knee at even intervals as conversation picked up around us once more, and after several minutes of pouting, he finally thawed.

The corners of his lips twitched when I knocked our knees together for the millionth time, and he caved.

“You’re the worst, you know that?” he grumbled, and I shimmied closer until my shoulder pressed to his.

“But you still like me,” I repeated.

He sighed, raking a hand through his curls. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Dick.” I flicked his ear, and he retaliated with a hard pinch to my side. “Ow!”

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