The Bet
1872 Words
The cake slipped from my hands.
It hit the floor with a soft thud, white frosting splattering across the smooth wood while blue sugar decorations scattered on people's shoes, and the neat letters I'd spent half an hour choosing were smeared into an unrecognizable mess. But I barely noticed.
I couldn't hear the music anymore, couldn't hear the laughter, couldn't feel the gift bag hanging from my fingers. All I could see was Ethan.
His hands were around Brielle Monroe's waist, his mouth was sleeping right on hers. Right there, in the middle of the room, in front of everyone. For several seconds, my mind simply refused to understand what my eyes were seeing.
No. It couldn't be.
There had to be some mistake. Maybe I had walked into the wrong house. Maybe this wasn't Ethan. But then he tilted his head, and I saw the familiar dark hair I'd watched disappear under a hockey helmet a hundred times, the same mouth that had kissed me under the oak tree, the same hands that had held mine, the same boy who had promised me that tonight would be different.
My stomach dropped.
Someone turned toward me, then another, and a laugh exploded all over the room.
“Oh my God.”
A voice came from somewhere behind me. “Isn't that the nerd girl?”
The laughter grew even louder, and my fingers held the gift bag so tight I couldn't move. Ethan finally pulled away from Brielle as he looked at me, and then Brielle looked over her shoulder. Her eyes traveled down my dress, over my glasses, to the ruined cake at my feet.
“What is she doing here?”
The room went strangely quiet. Ethan shoved his hands into his pockets.
“I didn't know she was coming.”
The words hit harder than they should have.
“You didn't know?”
My voice sounded tiny.
He shrugged. “I mean, I didn't invite you.”
I stared at him, the room seeming to spin around me. “But you told me to come.”
A few people exchanged glances, and someone snickered. Ethan sighed as though I were making things unnecessarily complicated, and I shook my head.
“You told me tonight was the night.”
Brielle laughed softly. “The night for what?”
I looked at her, then at Ethan. “To tell everyone.”
Everyone went silent, then Ethan laughed. Actually laughed.
“What?” I whispered.
He shook his head. “You really believed that?”
I felt a very heat crawl up my neck. “Believed what?”
He stepped closer. I wanted him to stop. I wanted him to take everything back. Instead, he looked at me the way people looked at something embarrassing they wished they'd never touched.
“You're my b***h, Sienna.”
A few people laughed, and my heart stopped. I stared at him.
“You said—”
“I know what I said.”
“You said you loved me.”
His expression changed, not softer, but colder.
“I called you my bitch.”
My lips trembled. “I thought that meant…”
“That meant exactly what I said.”
The laughter around us grew even louder each time he opened his mouth to speak, and my eyes burned.
“But I'm your girlfriend.”
Ethan stared at me for a moment, then he laughed again.
“Did I ever call you my girlfriend?”
I couldn't breathe. “You said we'd tell everyone tonight. That you'd introduce me.”
“I never promised you a relationship.”
The room blurred, and I shook my head. “No.”
Brielle stepped closer, but her strong, expensive perfume reached me before she did.
“Oh, honey.”
She looked me up and down. “Look at you.”
Someone laughed behind her, and Brielle smiled.
“Who exactly did you think was going to love you?”
My throat closed. I looked at Ethan, but he didn't defend me. He didn't tell her to stop. He simply stood there, watching every single thing. My tears spilled before I could stop them.
“I loved you.”
The words came out broken.
Brielle laughed, and Ethan looked away. Then Brielle noticed the cake and crouched beside it.
“What is this?”
Nobody answered.
She looked at the ruined frosting. “Is this supposed to be for Ethan?”
I nodded, barely.
She picked up the corner of the cake box. “That's adorable.”
Then she looked at Ethan. “I got you something better.”
She reached into her purse and pulled out a small envelope, opened it, and waved several crisp bills in front of me. My face was blushed with humiliation.
“You probably spent two months of cafeteria money on this, didn't you?”
The room was back on track with their loud laughters, and I couldn't move. I couldn't even feel my body.
Brielle smiled. “Poor thing.”
Ethan glanced at the cake.
“I hate buttercream.”
I stared at him. “What?”
“I hate it.”
“But you told me it was your favorite.”
“He loves strawberry,” Brielle said as she slipped her arm through his. “Just like me. Sweet and sexy strawberry like me.”
I looked down at the gift bag, the bag I'd carried across campus, the cardigan I'd made with aching fingers, the initials I'd stitched into it.
E.C.
My vision blurred immediately.
Brielle noticed it.
“What did you bring him?”
She snatched the bag from my hand.
“Hey—”
She pulled out the carefully folded cardigan. For a moment, nobody said anything. Then someone laughed, another joined, and soon the entire room was laughing.
Brielle held it up.
“You made him this?”
I reached for it. “Please give it back.”
She ignored me.
Ethan looked at the cardigan, then at me.
“You knitted me a sweater?”
“Cardigan,” someone corrected.
More laughter.
Brielle turned toward Ethan.
“Do you want it?”
He shook his head.
“I'm too cool for that.”
My eyes filled again, and Brielle tossed it onto the floor. It landed beside the cake, the wool I had spent three weeks working on falling into the frosting. I stared at it as my hands began shaking.
Then someone said, “Wait.”
A phone was lifted, and the screen glowed.
“Guys, you have to see this.”
My heart lurched as the video started playing. The old oak tree appeared on the screen, and then I saw myself standing under it, my glasses slightly crooked, my face red and flushed, with Ethan leaning toward me, kissing me and roaming his hands under my skirt, grabbing my thighs.
My first kiss.
The moment I'd treasured.
The moment I'd thought belonged only to us.
The room exploded with laughter.
“Oh my God!”
“She really thought this was romantic.”
“Look at her!”
I stumbled backward.
“Turn it off.”
Nobody listened.
“Stop!”
The video continued. I could hear my own nervous laugh, hear Ethan saying something I couldn't make out, and my eyes were filled with tears.
“You recorded me?”
Ethan smiled.
“It was a bet.”
The room went quiet for half a second, then someone whistled.
“A bet?”
I looked at him. “What bet?”
He shrugged.
“Get the scholarship girl to fall for me.”
Everything inside me went still.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“No.”
I shook my head so hard my glasses slipped down my nose.
“No, you wouldn't.”
He laughed.
“You were so easy.”
My heart shattered at that spot.
Three months.
Three months of waiting.
Three months of calling him.
Three months of believing every excuse.
Three months of thinking I was finally loved.
Three f*****g months of dreaming!!!
All of it had been a joke. A game. A bet.
“You were never going to tell them?”
He looked at Brielle, then back at me.
“Tell them what?”
“That I was your girlfriend.”
His smile was cruel this time.
“You were never my girlfriend, Sienna. Get that into your nerdy brains”
Someone behind him laughed, and I couldn't breathe.
Brielle stepped closer.
“You really thought a guy like Ethan would choose you?”
I stared at her through my tears.
She leaned in.
“You should have known better.”
Then she pushed me.
I stumbled backward, my heel hitting the edge of the cake box, and I fell hard onto the floor. The room bursted again. Someone clapped.
Someone else shouted, “Nice one!”
I sat there, stunned, my palms burning on the floor. The cardigan was beside me, covered with white frosting. My cake was destroyed. My gift was ruined. My secret was no longer mine. And the boy I had loved was standing above me like I was a stranger.
I pushed myself up. Nobody helped. I grabbed the gift bag with shaking hands.
“I'm sorry.”
I didn't even know who I was apologizing to. Maybe myself. Maybe the girl I'd been three months ago. Maybe the foolish girl who had believed that a first kiss meant something.
I turned toward the door.
“Hey, Sienna!”
Someone called after me.
I stopped.
“Tell your dad.”
They all f*****g laughed again.
Another voice followed.
“Yeah. Let's see what Coach Bennett thinks about his daughter throwing herself at one of his hockey stars.”
My entire body went cold.
I didn't turn around. I ran through the doorway, down the steps, across the street. I didn't stop when my shoes began hurting. I didn't stop when my glasses fogged with tears. I didn't stop until the lights from Ethan's house disappeared behind me.
By the time I reached home, my lungs burned. I pushed through the front door. The house was quiet. Too quiet and I really needed it. I hurried upstairs, and slammed my bedroom door behind me as I leaned against it, breathing hard.
Then I looked up.
My reflection stared back at me from the mirror.
Messy bun.
Glasses.
Tear-streaked cheeks.
A navy dress I'd chosen because I thought Ethan would like it.
I slowly removed my glasses. My vision even became blurrier. I wiped my face, but it didn't help. I looked at myself again.
“Why wasn't I enough?”
The question left my mouth as a whisper.
Then I heard footsteps in the hallway.
My father's voice came from outside my door.
“Sienna?”
I froze.
He knocked once, then again.
“Sweetheart, are you home?”
I couldn't answer.
The door handle began to turn.
And suddenly, one terrifying thought cut through everything else.
My father had no idea I'd been dating Ethan Callahan.
But tomorrow morning, the entire university would.
And judging by the way that video had been recorded...
so would he.
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