3. Mila
Mila
Dear Diary,
I’m a complete and utter idiot—the laughingstock of the country club.
I’m going to kill Lara, and I’m going to lock myself in my room for the next ten years.
I’m never coming out again. Never. You will not believe what happened to me.
I’m so EMBARRASSED!!!! Ryker, the love of my life, came home this weekend with Parker.
He asked me if I wanted to play tennis with him.
Of course, I said yes. I called Lara, and she told me that he definitely likes me and that he was testing the waters to see if I liked him.
I agreed—why else would he ask me to play tennis?
I mean, every movie I’ve seen, the guy only asks the girl if she wants to hang out if he likes her.
Yeah, he’s in college, and I’m in high school, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have fallen for me.
Anyway, I wore a super short skirt, as per Lara’s advice, and a push-up bra stuffed with toilet paper and cotton wool.
Well, the push-up bra was too loose, and the toilet paper fell out of one side of my bra as I was playing.
Yes, it fell out onto the court. Yes, I had one double-D boob and one B-cup.
No, Ryker was not impressed. He started laughing at me in the middle of the game.
Like, literally, stopped moving to point out the toilet paper on the court, and then he said, and I quote him verbatim, “Your right boob fell out, dorky. You might want to fix that.” I nearly died.
I would have died, but I think God was saving me so I could get revenge on Lara first for her bad advice.
I’m never listening to her again. Or playing tennis with Ryker.
Well, maybe I’ll play tennis with Ryker again if he asks.
Which I doubt he will. I don’t think he likes me.
If he liked me, he wouldn’t call me a dork, would he?
Mila
XOXO
P.S. I officially lost the tennis match, if you were wondering. 6-2, 6-2. Pitiful.
Friday, One Week Ago
“Hey, dorky, where’s Lara?” Ryker stood outside my front door looking like some hunky model in a TV ad for men’s cologne or boxer briefs; very skimpy boxer briefs, I might add.
“She’s on her way,” I said and ushered him into my apartment, trying not to let him see how eager and happy I was that he was there.
“I thought you said that you’d be ready to leave at three?” He frowned as he stood next to me. His eyes bored into mine with an imperious glance, and I made myself stand there, not touching his glorious body.
“I’m ready.” I frowned back at him. “It’s not my fault that Lara isn’t here yet.”
“Barbie is going to be upset,” he said, and pulled out his phone.
“Why?” I cocked my head to the side and studied his face. “Did she get peroxide in her mouth?”
“She’s a natural blonde,” Ryker said, his lips curving up at the side, even though I knew he was trying not to laugh.
“Sure she is,” I said sweetly. “That’s why her pubic hair is darker than the hair on your head.”
“You’re gross and a brat, you know that, Mila?” He laughed then. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
“Huh? What?” I said and swallowed hard. Was he going to ask me if I was being bitchy because I was jealous?
“Are you into women now? Is that why you’re so familiar with the female anatomy?” He looked me up and down. “I guess that explains why you look so butch today?”
“What?” I screeched and looked down at my outfit.
“I don’t look butch.” But I didn’t look particularly feminine, either.
I was wearing baggy blue jeans and a big T-shirt, with my hair pulled back in a bun.
I certainly wasn’t in any seduction-mode outfit, but that was by design.
I wanted to look scruffy now, so that when I went into full-on seduction mode in the evening, Ryker would be taken by surprise.
I had to plan differently, now that I knew I had a Barbie to deal with.
“I’m not a lesbian, asshole.” I turned around and walked toward my bedroom. “I told you I’m seeing a guy.”
“Oh yeah, you did say something about some putz,” he said, following me into my bedroom. “Where is he? Hiding under your bed?”
“He doesn’t need to hide under the bed.” I turned around and glared at him.
“Oh?” His eyes narrowed, and he looked at my unmade bed, then back at me. “Don’t you make your bed anymore, Mila? It looks like a mess.”
“You’re not my dad, and yes, I do make my bed.
Just not today. I had a late night,” I said, which wasn’t technically a lie.
I did make my bed. Every time I knew my parents were coming over, or when I was having friends over—except for Lara.
I didn’t bother making my bed every time I knew Lara was coming over.
She didn’t care that I was messy. Well, at least not now that we don’t live together.
“A late night?”
“Yes, with my man,” I said emphatically and fell down on the mattress and closed my eyes, letting out a loud sigh as I rolled around on the disheveled sheets.
“We had a really late night. Sorry if I didn’t make the bed this morning, but I was worn out,” I croaked, lying like crazy.
I had gone to bed late, but not because of any guy.
I’d stayed up all night watching episodes of GRΣΣK on Netflix, while simultaneously stalking one of the actors on Instagram.
If things weren’t going to work out with Ryker, they might work out with Scott Michael Foster.
He was a decent second option, if I ever had the chance to meet him.
“Hey,” I squealed when Ryker pulled me up abruptly from the bed. My eyes flew open, and I stared at his angry face with an emotion akin to glee. “That hurt,” I said as I stood next to him and rubbed my arms.
“Do you think it’s appropriate for you to be talking about your casual sex with your unknown man-friend and then to be reliving the memories in your mind while rolling around on your bed?” His brown eyes flashed at me. “Do you think your parents would approve of your behavior?”
“Huh?” I said, my jaw dropping. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the little moans you were making as you wiggled around on the bed just now.” He frowned. “I don’t want the image of you having casual sex in my mind, thank you very much.”
“It’s not casual sex,” I said with a glare. “We’re in a loving relationship.”
“Really?” Ryker said with a smirk. “A loving relationship? Yet no one in your family has ever heard of this guy?”
“Of course, they have.” I put my hands on my hips and stared at him.
“No, they haven’t,” he said with a self-assured smirk. “I asked Parker last night if he had met your boyfriend. He seemed very confused and asked your parents, and none of them had any clue you were dating anyone, let alone in a loving relationship.”
“Whatever, jerk.” I turned away, fuming. I should have known he’d ask my parents about my boyfriend. Ryker was the sort of guy who knew exactly what he was doing. You could never get the best of him in any situation. He was always ten steps ahead of me, even before I knew to start counting.
“I’m not a jerk. I just wanted to meet this new guy in your life. See if I thought he was going to be a good addition to the family.”
“Yeah, right.” I rolled my eyes, knowing that everyone was going to be calling me soon to get more information on my paramour. I was surprised Nonno hadn’t shown up already and done his “I have Mafioso friends” bit.
“I see I had nothing to worry about.” Ryker ran his hand through his dark hair. “Your relationship isn’t that serious.”
“Yet,” I said as I released my bun and tossed my long blond hair, which I’d spent a lot of money getting highlighted at my local hairdresser’s.
I tried not to think of the money I’d spent, especially because Parker hadn’t gotten back to me about the advance yet.
“You’re correct, of course. Troy and I were merely bedroom partners in the beginning, but now it has become more. ”
“Bedroom partners?” Ryker’s eyes narrowed again, but he looked unconvinced as he surveyed my face.
“Fuck-buddies, friends with benefits, hookup pals—you get the drift,” I said with a sweet smile as his chin hardened. Ryker was starting to look pissed, and I loved it.
“You’re telling me you have a fuck-buddy?” he said, his tone edgy, and he stepped toward me again, his brow furrowed as his eyes darkened. If I didn’t know him better. I’d think he was jealous.
“What’s it to you?” I said softly. “Isn’t that exactly what Barbie is to you?” I asked, and he growled and turned away from me.
“I’m not playing these games with you, Mila.
Grab your stuff. I’ll be in the living room.
” He stopped at my door and turned back to look at me.
“And call Lara. I’m not going to wait around all day for your best friend to show up.
We have places to be. And I’m not planning on arriving late.
You’re the one who confirmed the time with me. ”
“Well, it’s not like anyone will be up waiting for us,” I said, annoyed at his tone. “My parents, who still haven’t called me, won’t be there, and Parker’s not arriving until tomorrow, right?”
“Barbie and I have plans for the night.” He grinned. “I want to make sure they happen, and I don’t fall asleep as soon as we arrive.”
“Well, maybe I can ask Troy to drive Lara and me up,” I said, snapping at him. “I’m sure he won’t mind.”
“Troy?” He lifted an eyebrow.
“My boyfriend.”
“So Troy is coming on this trip?” he asked, his right eyebrow still raised. “Parker didn’t tell me that.”
“It was going to be a surprise,” I said churlishly, fiddling with my hair again and wondering where I could get a “Troy” from at this late notice.
“Am I giving him a ride as well?” he said, his tone annoyed. “And is he chipping in for gas?”
“Is Barbie going to be chipping in for gas?” I asked, annoyed. “And no, he’s not riding up with us; he’s driving his own car up. His Mercedes-Benz sports car, to be exact.”