Not Your Bet to Make Chapter 03

Not Your Bet to Make Chapter 03

I used to do anything for their attention. Anything.

They’d praise me generously.

“Our Grace is growing up. She’s learned to be so mature.”

“Such a good girl. Mom and Dad are so proud.”

Later I understood. They tossed me scraps of affection and called it a feast. I was so starved I thanked them for it.

I don’t want to bend over for scraps anymore.

I looked at them. Face blank.

“I said no. Eat it yourself.”

Turned. Walked to my room.

“Grace, is that how you talk to your mother? Think you’re grown now?”

“This kid’s getting more rebellious every day. Not likeable at all.”

Their complaints chased me down the hall.

I leaned against the door. Shoved my fist in my mouth. Kept the sounds inside.

When my breathing steadied I opened my phone. Checked UCLA’s portal.

“Application Status: Submitted.”

Green checkmark.

I put a checkmark in my own chest too.

The senior class group chat blew up. Class president organized a farewell dinner.

I stepped out of the house. Asher blocked my way.

His eyes were red-rimmed. Looked like a kicked puppy.

“Grace. Five whole days. You won’t talk to me. You won’t see me. Are you done with me?”

“Even if you’re mad you can’t freeze me out like this. It messes with feelings.”

I looked at him. He really did look hurt. I couldn’t tell anymore if it was real or just another trick to soften me.

“You know what I keep asking myself?” My voice stayed calm. “Do you actually want to fix this? Or are you just not used to losing someone who was always there?”

He didn’t answer. Maybe he didn’t know either.

But the cold words still wouldn’t leave my mouth. I let him pull me to his pickup. Let him drive me to the dinner.

Midway through I stepped outside for a call. When I came back they were playing Never Have I Ever.

Asher and Tiffany had drifted next to each other again. Bickering.

I chugged ice-cold Coke. The carbonation burned my throat. Covered that familiar ache just fine. I said nothing. Found a seat.

New round started. The class president held up his fingers.

“Never have I ever… had my crush come true after prom.”

Fingers dropped across the room. Only mine and Asher’s stayed up.

Everyone looked at us. Teasing whoops filled the air.

I looked at Asher. Thought about everything we’d been through all those years. Felt some warmth.

Everyone knew we grew up together. Kindergarten to prom. I was always the one beside him.

Asher always protected me. Put me first.

I’d liked him since the first flutter of a crush. No one else.

At prom he told me he felt the same. We got together. Simple. Obvious.

A nosy classmate asked:

“Both of you still have your fingers up. Mutual secret crush?”

I nodded. Default yes.

Someone shouted:

“Wait, no. Asher’s crush is Tiffany, isn’t it? They just admitted they’re dating.”

The room went silent.

I turned. Stared at Asher and Tiffany.

Pressed close together. Tiffany’s cheeks flushed pink.

And Asher. No denial.

“Stop gossiping. Next round.”

That was confirmation. To everything that kid just said.

The looks from everyone else got strange. Whispering spread.

The humiliation pricked my fingertips numb. I didn’t hesitate. Got up. Walked out of the room.

A few steps. Asher grabbed my arm from behind.

“Let me explain. It’s not what you think. Some guy who asked Tiffany out before keeps harassing her. I only said we were together to get him to back off.”

I shook him off.

“Then go back in there. Clear it up. In front of everyone.”

He went silent.

“Tiffany would lose face,” he finally said.

I laughed once.

“So me being humiliated in front of everyone? That’s fine. Right?”

“Asher. We’re done.”

His face crumbled. He reached for me again.

His phone rang.

He saw the caller ID. Tiffany.

He answered immediately.

Next second he turned to me, frantic.

“Tiffany twisted her ankle. I have to go check on her. Call a Lyft home, okay? I’ll explain everything later.”

He left. Didn’t look back.

I watched him go. Didn’t call his name.

Opened my phone. Changed the Lyft destination to the nearest bookstore.

I needed a new notebook. Starting today, I’d write a plan that only belonged to me.