Betting on You by Lynn Painter

Author:Lynn Painter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: S&S Books for Young Readers
Published: 2023-11-28T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN Bailey

When we finally pulled into Breckenridge, the town all lit up with twinkling lights in the darkness, we devised a plan. I was going to go into the condo and tell my mom that Charlie was with me, not Nekesa, and he was going to wait in the car for five minutes. Hopefully my mother could lessen the initial blow to Scott, and we could get on with the weekend.

Shit, shit, shit. How on earth was I going to tell her? It occurred to me at that moment that we’d all been idiotic teenagers to think this was a good idea. They were going to freak that I’d brought a boy, and they were going to double-freak that the boy was Charlie.

What in God’s name had I been thinking?

And I was a dick. I was a total dick for tricking my mom. Because messing with Scott’s happiness was whatever, but messing with my mom’s was something else entirely. We were a team, just she and I, and we’d never snuck around and lied to each other.

Shit, shit, shit, what the hell have I done?

“Relax,” Charlie said as he looked for a parking spot. “I can almost hear your internal freak-out.”

“Because this was a terrible idea,” I said loudly. “What the hell was I thinking?”

“Breathe,” he said, and when I glanced over at him, something about the reassuring look on his face made me calm down just a little. “It’s going to be fine.”

“I doubt it,” I said, nodding, “but I’m going to go with that.”

As he drove in the direction of the condo, I realized that Charlie—Charlie Sampson, Mr. Nothing—had made me feel calm. Yes, we were becoming better friends, but certain moments felt bigger somehow.

He found a parking spot across the street from the condo, and after ten minutes of panicked breathing, I unbuckled and got out of the car.

“Wish me luck,” I said, my hands shaking.

“Good luck,” he sang in a silly voice. “Don’t fuck it up, Glasses.”

“Shut up,” I sang right back.

After I walked around to the back of the building, I found their door—unlocked—so I pushed it open and stepped inside. “Hello? Mom?”

I walked through what appeared to be the laundry room and into the kitchen, which was all unfinished rustic wood, and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

The condo was incredible.

The living room had high ceilings with big wood beams, and one entire wall was a stone fireplace that happened to have a fire burning inside of it that very minute. The furniture was brown leather, and the place felt like a ski chalet.

I loved it.

“Bay?” I heard my mother yell from upstairs. “Is that you?”

“Yep,” I yelled back, my momentary distraction giving way to the nervous fear that’d been there first. “We just got here.”

“That was fast,” she said, and I heard her feet coming down the stairs. “I can’t believe you’re here already.”

She hopped off the last step and grabbed me in a hug, and I could almost feel how relaxed she was.

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