There's Something About Sweetie(88)

Kayla cleared her throat and pointedly looked down at the—ugh—blanket. Sweetie’s insides shriveled at the thought of them doing it on that checkered red-and-white fabric.

“I know it looks bad,” Celia said. “But it was all me. I wanted to get back together with Ash—at least, I thought I did—but it was all a mistake. We were just talking tonight, and he made me realize some things about myself.” She shook her head. “But more importantly for you, I realized that this guy is head over heels for you, Sweetie. Seriously.”

Ashish rubbed his jaw, his eyes studying Sweetie closely, half hopeful.

Sweetie looked at him, frozen. Those eyes she loved so much, like dark honey drizzled into a cup of tea. Even now they looked totally honest, completely guileless. Could it be? Was Celia speaking the truth?

“Nice try,” Izzy said, flashing her braces-covered teeth in a snarl.

“They probably get off on cheating or something,” Suki said in disgust.

“Sweetie.” Ashish’s voice was clear, and he looked right at her, no hint of deception on his face. “I would never hurt you like this. Tell me you know that.”

Sweetie stood there quietly, looking at him, studying him, willing what he was saying to be true. But the blanket. The text messages. The fact that he was here at all, that he’d kept all of this from her in the first place …

“She doesn’t have to tell you anything, jackass,” Suki said, kicking off one boot. When she picked it up, the rest of the girls followed suit, kicking off one of their shoes, picking them up, and advancing on Ashish.

“What is this?” he said, looking at them warily.

“Oh, you’ll find out,” Izzy said, smiling.

“Stop!” Sweetie called out.

They turned to her. “Are you sure?” Kayla said. “Because there are four of us and only one of him.”

“Take your shoe off,” Izzy said, practically bouncing up and down. “Come on, Sweetie, it’s gonna feel so good!”

“I just wanna go,” she said quietly, and turned back to the Suburban. After a moment, the girls caught up with her and piled in.

Even as she refused to listen to Ashish calling her name, something inside Sweetie protested. Could this really be true? Was Ashish just a big cheater? Were he and Celia just feeding her an old, tired story she’d be a total fool to believe? But why? What would be the point?

Well, maybe they needed Sweetie to believe so they could continue their tryst in all the secretive excitement. The thought made her sick. But really. Would Ashish, her Ashish, do that?

“Jerkface douche-canary,” Suki said, as Kayla started up the car.

“We should’ve tap-danced all over his face in our heels,” Izzy said to her. “I can’t believe he just stood there with Celia and refused to admit anything.”

The more they spoke, the worse Sweetie felt.

“Guys, I … I just can’t … Ashish is not …” She shook her head, holding back tears, as Kayla whipped out of the parking lot. “I didn’t get a dirtbag vibe from him at all, you guys. Even right then. I just didn’t feel like he was lying. Did you?” She turned to Kayla, who was usually a really good judge of character.

Kayla kept her eyes on the road for a long moment. Then, looking at Sweetie out of the corner of her eye, she said, “I didn’t get a lying vibe either, honestly.”

“But let’s look at the facts,” Suki said from the backseat. “One: He was dating you and simultaneously texting Celia without telling you. Two: He told you he really liked you while simultaneously planning this whole looks-like-a-date-with-benefits thing behind your back. Let me ask you, when you saw him earlier tonight, did he give any hints at all about what he was up to later?”

“No,” Sweetie said quietly. “He just said he had somewhere to be at nine thirty.”

Suki sat back. “I rest my case.”

“You don’t want to be that girl, Sweetie,” Izzy said from beside Suki. “The girl who becomes a doormat and gives the dirtbag guy a thousand chances just because he’s cute and can lie well.”

“No, I don’t,” Sweetie agreed. “I definitely don’t.” The one thing she’d always had, the one thing she’d hung on to in spite of everything she’d been told about herself—that she was ugly, that she was lazy, that no one would love her until she was thin, that she wasn’t a serious athlete because she was fat—was her self-respect. And she’d be damned if she was going to let Ashish Patel take that from her.

Kayla dropped Sweetie off in front of her house. They’d spent the rest of the ride back singing songs from Band Night—which, by the way, had been a total success. According to the text from Antwan that had just come in, they’d raised enough money for the new jerseys and then some. They’d even decided to donate the overage to a charity for underprivileged women athletes.

As soon as the Suburban disappeared around the corner, though, Sweetie’s temporary high melted away. It hadn’t been completely genuine anyway; it had been painted on over her sadness and disappointment. Now that she was alone, those emotions showed through, and Sweetie felt completely drained.

She let herself into the house and walked to her bedroom.

“Band Night engane indaarnu?”