2:29 AM

Chapter Ten

Colton's sprawled lazily on the football field. He convinced me to go here for free period. "Why are you worried? I can do this shit in my sleep," he says.

"My parents...they aren't like normal ones," I tell him. He shrugs. I'm sitting up, leaning back and he's laying on the ground next to me with my sweatshirt balled up under his head.

"So?"

"So, they're gonna spot that our 'friendship' is completely bullshit," I tell him.

"Chill out. I'm a very, very convincing actor," he says.

"Mhmm, the fact that you just used 'very' twice and empathized it twice, well, it does not make me confident," I say. He frowns.

"You just wait," he says. "What should I wear?"

"Slacks and a dress shirt. Comb your hair nicely, and don't use a lot of gel," I tell Colton.

"Are you going to wear a dress? As part of our deal I'd like you to wear something short, and tight preferably," Colton says.

"Hahaha. No, you dick," I say.

"No, that you won't wear a dress? Or no, that you won't wear a short or a tight one?" he asks. He folds his arms behind his head and his shirt rides up, exposing his hips. Right.

I try not to stare. "Mo?" he asks.

"Huh? Wait, did you just call me Mo? Why? You do know that my name's Andy, right?" I say. He grins at me

"I know what your name is, Mo. I figured you should have a nickname though," he says. I frown.

"And Mo was the best name you could think of?" He shrugs. It's not the worst nickname," I say. He grins at me and pushes his hair back. He pats the space next to him and I lay down. "Are you sure you want to do this? It's your last chance to back out," I say.

"I'm sure," he says. "Should I pick you up on my motorcycle?"

I sputter out a laugh. "You're kidding, right?" I roll over to face him. He looks serious. "Oh my God. You...you were actually serious. No! No, definitely don't pick me up on your motorcycle. Unless of course, you want my dad to castrate you."

Colton laughs this time. "Your parents are going to love me," he says.

"Yeah, what's not to love? Man-whore tendencies mixed with bad-boy and playboy, and then there's the assholeness, dickness, oh and did I mention that you're a dick? My parents are going to hate you," I tell him. He smirks.

"Oh, how you see right through me," he says in a monotone voice. "But you forget that in order to fuck as many girls as I do, I have to be charming."

I snort. "No you don't. You just have to be hot, a nice piece of ass," I tell him.

"And charming!"

"And ripped."

"So, you're saying girls only have sex with me because they think I have a nice ass, I'm hot and because I'm ripped?" Colton asks. I nod. "That's not true."

"It's a cruel, cruel world. And girls? They're very shallow," I tell him. He rolls over to face me and I can feel his breath on my face.

"So, you're saying that you would jump me right now, because of all of the things you just told me?" he asks. His eyes are mesmerizing. They're dark green but there are flecks of silver and grey and they're haunted with brown.

"No, I...I'm not like most girls," I say. He grins.

"But you think I have a nice ass?" he asks.

"Colton," I sigh, "you are obviously attractive. No one can deny you that. But just because you're attractive does not equate to me liking you."

He's grinning arrogantly. "You think I'm hot," he sing songs.

"Shut up!" I yell at him. He keeps grinning.

"For the record, you're hot too," he tells me. I laugh and push myself up.

"Come on, partner. We have to go to biology," I say. He stands up and hands me my sweatshirt. I shove it in my bag. He grabs his backpack. "Why didn't you have your bag that first day?" I ask him.

"I forgot it," he says. I roll my eyes and we walk to biology.

Biology goes by quickly. "Okay, so I'll text you the place and don't forget what I told you to wear! Oh, don't be late and don't ride your motorcycle!" I yell at him. And then I run to my car and drive home.

I hear my mom getting ready upstairs and that means she's dressing Dad. I yell, "I'm home!" I run up the stairs and slam the door to my room. I look through my dress and hear Colton saying: Wear something short and preferably tight.

Yeah. I'm not doing that. I pull out a plum dress. I slip it on. It hangs about mid-thigh, maybe a bit shorter. It clings to my waist and shoes off my cleavage and hips nicely. It's tight, but not overly. I grab black pumps and then head to my bathroom, the perks of being the only child of a surgeon and a Medical Examiner, to do makeup.

I do silver eyeshadow and then light eyeliner and a raspberry lipstick. I brush my hair and set my bangs to frame my face. I pull my dress up and then walk down the hall to my parents' room. I push their door open.

"You guys ready?" I ask. Mom shakes her head.

"We bumped up the reservation to six. Tell your friend," she says. I nod. I flop down on my bed. I text Colton: Reservation is at six. The place is called Reynolds's downtown. Wear slacks and a dress shirt, don't ride a motorcycle and calm that rat nest of your hair down. Not too much hair gel!

I hit send and shut my eyes, preparing myself for what's about to happen. My phone buzzes: y dont u txt like a normal person?

What are you talking about?

u use punctuation and shit

So?

wut r u? 90?

Hahaha. Dick. I'll see you tonight.

c u 2nite

I smile to myself. When it's five thirty my parents come tumbling down the steps. We walk to the car and drive to the place. We're seated at a table close to the window. I'm on one side with an empty seat next to me, presumably for Colton. My parents are across from me. My foot taps against the ground and I'm staring out the window, my parents are too.

I grab my phone and text him: Where the hell are you?

U ready 4 my grand entrance?

No! Don't do anything stupid!

2 late ;)

I swallow nervously and wait for him. My parents and I see him at the same time I do.

He pulls up on his motorcycle. He turns it off and stands up, taking his time to take his helmet off and muse his hair. At least he's wearing a helmet. He grabs the bag from under his seat and his helmet and walks into the restaurant. Everyone's gaping at him, guys are staring enviously and girls are drooling.

"Sup, Mo?"