on the pretense of needing to pee, and grab the unwrapped package from my wardrobe drawer, popping into the restroom for some privacy.
There’s so much tape on the package, that I have to use my nail clippers to cut into it.
Inside, there’s a pair of season tickets to the San Francisco Symphony clipped to a small rectangle of cardboard. My mouth drops open, and I feel terrible for leaving the gift for so long. To be quite honest, I forgot all about it. My loss, I suppose, since I could’ve used these during winter break to go with my dad.
When I step out of the bathroom, Zack’s waiting on the edge of my bed with the other gift. I hold the tickets up and he smiles, not like he’s upset or anything, but more like he’s not surprised either.
“I figured you hadn’t opened it,” he says, and I cringe. “That’s okay. At least you’ve got them now.” I sit down next to him and carefully unwrap the new package, finding another ticket to match the first two. “You know, in case you wanted to take Miranda or something …” he adds, but I know we’re both thinking about if he and I were to go together. We’re sitting so close that I can feel his body heat, and I have to close my eyes against the curiosity about what would happen if I were to give in and go to him.
“Thank you for these. You always give such thoughtful gifts.” My hands are trembling, and my heart is racing. Pretty sure those are the only words I’m going to be able to get out. I like Zack now, I really do. Part of me wishes he really was my boyfriend. Maybe, later, he can be. Just not right now.
“Are you going to the garden party?” Zack asks softly, but I’m already shaking my head. I have a few deliveries to make: small care packages for each of the Idol boys with an attached, handwritten note. I miss you. It’s the best I can do. I’ll deliver them while they are all at the party, so I don’t have to see their faces when they read it. If one of them were to reject me outright … I can’t think about that: my dad’s wellbeing is on the fucking line.
This Valentine’s Day is so different than the last one. All I can think about is Zack and how much I want to go and dance with him. Yet, I’ve got my bet with Harper, and I need to keep the Idol boys from seeing too much of me with him.
Like I told Windsor: I’m not about dating anyone just now.
It’s all so confusing.
I exhale and Zack stands up, turning around to look at me with a small smile.
“Hey, it’s okay. I get it.” He knows about the bet—he’s the only one—so I look up with an apologetic expression that I hope he understands. “Get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” I repeat again, blushing furiously when he leans down and kisses me hotly on the mouth. Zack turns and leaves, and I curl up on my bed with my roses, my tickets, and some chocolates that Miranda gave me.
It’s best if I leave the boys alone on such a romantic day.
I’m already confused enough as it is.
The following week, the staff acknowledges Tristan and me in the morning announcements as the honor students selected for the spring Paris trip. Part of me wants to refuse, so I can go home and be with my dad, but he assures me that he’s feeling much better and that I should go. I feel selfish as hell, but I know the trip will give me a good opportunity to bond with Tristan. He’s the most difficult of the Idols to find any time alone with. He’s always surrounded by fans … or Harper. Although I haven’t seen them touch each other since the drowning incident.
“Don’t you wonder when the girls made that bet?” Windsor asks me as he escorts me to cheerleading practice. I shrug. The thought had crossed my mind, but what does it matter? I’m not going to hurt myself like that ever again. The Idols can do their damned best. By the end of this year, I’ll have secured treatment for my dad, the boys will have learned a valuable lesson, and then next year … I might have to use next year to focus my revenge-attention on the