Free Don't You Wish by Roxanne St. Claire Page B

smile is dead sexy. “Whatever you want to call it, babe. My parents will be in the Keys as of Saturday morning, with my brother. My
casa
is your casa.” His fingers slip another inch up my jeans. “My bed is your bed.”
    “Seriously?”
    He leans back and narrows his eyes. “We agreed, Ayla. Homecoming is the night.”
    So, it looks like I have a date for homecoming after all. A date … to do the deed.
Take that, Shane Matthews
.
    “You are not going to change your mind.” There is just enough of a subtle threat in his voice that I look up and spear him with a look.
    “I might change my mind …” I give him a slow, sly smile. “About my dress.”
    “No, you don’t,” Jade interjects. “I’m in white Stella McCartney, Bliss is in black Versace, and you’re wearing the yellow Vera Wang. We’ve been planning this since last year.”
    Ryder moves even closer. “I don’t care what you wear. I just want to take it off.”
    “O … kay.” Shoot, my voice cracks. To cover, I pick at the salad, finally locating a lone crouton, but I’m aware that the entire cafeteria is watching like we are their own personal soap opera. Well, we kind of are.
    That’s the price of popularity. And sitting here at the “it” table with the hottest guy I’ve ever talked to, telling me he wants to take off my homecoming dress (Vera Wang!), well, shoot, I guess I’m paying whatever moments like this cost, because I have never had one before.
    I turn to him, our lips barely an inch apart. “Anything can happen between now and Saturday, Ryder.” Like I could wake up and these people could disintegrate into thin air.
    They will, won’t they? By Saturday? By tomorrow when I wake up? Of course they will.
    That hand goes so high, he’s just about in my crotch. Has any boy ever touched me on the thigh? Maybe by accident, when I shared a music stand with Conner Bondi.
    But this is a dream. Even though there’s nothing about that hand that says it’s imaginary. The nagging starts deep inside me again.
    “Why does this seem so real?” I whisper.
    He smiles. “Because it is, babe. And it’s gonna be even more real on Saturday night.” He squeezes my leg. “Got it?”
    Heat coils through me, easily as much from embarrassment as an unfamiliar response.
    “What the hell do you want, Candi Cane?” Jade’s voice throws ice water onto my little party.
    I turn from Ryder to see a girl walking by me, holding a tray, and I instantly recognize Candi from the bathroom. She’s staring at me, a question in her gaze.
    Bliss slams down a water bottle and stares at her. “Your days are numbered up,” she says, butchering the expression enough to get a little chuckle from the table. But she takes it as encouragement, pointing a finger at Candi. “You busted us.”
    Candi’s face turns a lovely shade of purple. “I did not.”
    I feel everyone’s focus at the table shift to me, as though, in my position of power, it’s my job to support Bliss and fire another warning. Of course, I know what I should do—what any Queen Bee in this chair would do. I should remind the little nobody just who’s in charge here.
    “Candi,” I say, trying to make my voice sound lofty as I dig through my brain for just the right thing to say. The right way to show my status and hers, because that’s what’s expected.
    “What?” she asks, her eyes full of hope. I can practically read her mind, and not because this weird dream state I’m in has given me that capability.
    Don’t insult me
, she’s thinking.
Don’t make me look like the fool we both know I am
.
    All I can think about is Shane Matthews and the shame on the bus. I can’t be like that, can I? “Thanks for the heads-up in the bathroom today,” I finally say. “That was cool.”
    “Hey, sure. No prob.” She just smiles a little and bounds away, but Bliss drops both hands onto the table with a dramaqueen exhale.
    “ ‘No prob’?” Bliss mocks. “Who
says
that?”
    “This