Chapter 24
SELENA
“Selena, sit down, babe! You’re starting to make me nervous.”
“Nervous?” I stop my pacing and smile wide at my best friend. “I’m not nervous.”
Jessica laughs at me. Like, straight up laughs. Rude.
“Yeah, okay,” she shrugs. Her brown eyes linger on the many, many trays of conchas and croissants I’ve spent the afternoon baking.
“I’m not,” I argue, shrugging one shoulder but keeping a big o’ smile on my face. Because, you know, I’m not nervous.
I’m not.
Even though I essentially agreed to a fake date with Grayson Rhodes, I can’t turn back now. He needs my help.
Anyway, I continue telling Jess how yesterday felt like the longest day ever! Classes, practice, work, everything dragged. Worse still, I dropped two cups of coffee on myself during my shift at Roar Coffee.
One latte spilled all over my shoes, which were once white and now have brown splotches on them.
And then, I bumped an expresso with my elbow, which proceeded to pour over my sleeve.
It burned pretty bad, I nearly cried right there in the middle of my shift.
The long sleeve saved me from the worst of it, but the skin on my elbow feels tender.
“I’m glad you were wearing long sleeves,” Jess says, looking over my arm.
“Same.”
“You should sue them!”
“I’m not suing them. It was my fault.”
She sticks her tongue out at me before she goes back to doing her makeup. I get back to baking, which is something I tend to do during finals week or before a big match. On those occasions, I’m in the kitchen trying new recipes because it helps clear my head.
And I need a clear head tonight. After all, Grayson Rhodes is picking me up.
Grayson Rhodes. Is. Picking. Me. Up.
We’re going to the Gamma party. The plan is to show up together and be seen hanging out.
We’ll pretend to be together. Like together together.
This way Lila Jane will have no doubt we’re dating.
Him and me, dating. The guy I’ve told my friends that I hate.
The guy who’s basically admitted to hating me.
The guy most of my teammates want to sleep with.
The guy who half of the school has slept with.
I feel lightheaded. And kind of dizzy. Like that one time I got a concussion when we played Red Hill University in the season opener.
Me and their number one goal scorer went for the ball outside the box in extra time.
When she shoved me, I grabbed her jersey to help keep from falling.
We ended up tripping over one another, and as we tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs, her knee hit the back of my head and I was out.
I got a yellow card and they got the ball.
Fortunately for us, they weren’t able to do anything with the free kick.
Unfortunately for me, I missed that play and the rest of the game because of concussion protocol.
Nauseous and disoriented, I threw up on an EMT.
That’s how I feel now, like I’m about to vomit any second.
Maybe Jess is right, maybe I am nervous. Okay, I should probably make more dough.
After getting a pep talk from Papá—I told her I had a project due, not that I was going on a fake date with the grumpiest (and according to my teammates: the hottest) guy in school—she said what she always says when I’m afraid to try something new. “La que no se arriesga, no gana.”
Essentially, nothing ventured, nothing gained. It’s exactly what I needed to hear.
I also talked with both Jess and Letty, who have opposing views on the subject. Letty (and her grandma) think I should fake date Grayson Rhodes for as long as humanly possible. After all, they insist, when will I ever get another opportunity to “date” him if he never dates??
Jess thinks the whole thing is a huge mistake. Unlike fake dating in my romance books which usually results in a happy ending, fake dating in real life can lead to disastrous consequences, hurt feelings, and uncomfortable scenarios.
They both make good points. The fake dating part isn’t the problem though. I’m the problem. Mainly because I don’t like lying. And doing this, I feel like I’m lying to everyone.
At least if I knew why Grayson wanted Lila Jane to believe he was seeing someone (who by sheer dumb luck happens to be me), I could make it make sense. Like if it’s for a good cause, you know?
But, he doesn’t want to talk about it. I texted him. More than once. He didn’t reply.
While I like helping people, he’s not people. I don’t know how to explain it. Besides, this whole thing? It’s starting to take a toll. I think that’s the real reason I’m baking.
I haven’t wanted to admit it, but suddenly, I’m thinking about him all the time.
Like seriously all the time. I’m not usually like this.
I don’t stalk peoples’ social media pages—his is blank.
I don’t type up a million texts and end up sending none of them.
I don’t go to certain places hoping to run into certain people.
On top of all that, I’ve even had dreams about him. Vivid, intimate, sensual dreams.
I wake up feeling flushed, sweaty, and deliriously turned on.
Last night I was reading a new book, and I couldn’t picture anyone except him as the main character.
One who treats his partner like a queen, talking dirty, pleasuring her.
Just thinking about him in that way makes my whole body feel warm and tingly.
This is new for me. And so weird. I don’t understand how it happened. When? Why?
I know I was trying to move past that night in freshman year, given it’s three years later.
I mean, it’s our senior year now and I’ll never see him after we graduate, but wanting to make peace is not this.
This is not what I had in mind. Wanting to put the past behind us?
Yes. Be his friend? Maybe. Being tempted to jump him every time I think about him? No!
Like, who even am I?
Jess was trying to hype me up this morning, reminding me that I simply have to get through tonight and then never have to deal with him again.
Sounds easy enough, so I focus on that, not the fact he suddenly seems so interesting.
I want to ask how he got into baseball? Why he chose to attend TLU?
How often he workouts? Does he need a workout partner?
Things like that. But also, when was his last serious relationship? With who?
Ridiculous stuff. I need to keep baking.
Grayson finally sends a text. Be ready by 8pm.
We haven’t talked otherwise. Why would we though? He gave me his number to cancel, not to bother him with random text messages. Or silly questions. Or requests for nudes.
Anyway, I need to stop freaking out. Which is why I focus on the next batch of conchas before changing into the dress Jess designed for tonight.
With Springtime in Paris as the theme, she ended up going with soft pastels, which I love.
She didn’t have time to add flowers to her design, which she’s pissed about, but it’s beautiful anyway.
She made a really cute yellow sundress for me, while she made herself a peach colored, shimmery halter dress.
She even offered to hook up Letty, who asked for anything pale purple since black wasn’t an option.
I wonder what he’s wearing?
Not that it matters. What matters is that my formerly clean white sneakers have coffee stains, so the black Converse will have to do.
“What time is Letty coming over?” Jess asks.
“Before eight,“ I reply. Guess she’s running late.
Letty lives one town over in Stone Heights, so it’s possible she’s stuck in traffic. Our apartment is in the student housing section near Tower Lake University. Technically we’re off campus, but it’s only three blocks away.
Sometimes I forget that our apartment building in one of the older buildings, where there’s no elevator and no intercom.
I don’t mind. I never invite anyone over, but it’s a hassle when Jess orders food.
Since I don’t like making the delivery people climb up the long stairway outside, it means I go down so they don’t have to come up.
It’s why I asked Letty to text when she was outside. We’ll meet her downstairs.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table. Jess looks up from where she’s doing her makeup next to it. “Want me to check?”
“Yes, please,” I reply as I place the last tray of conchas in the oven.
The croissants turned out so good. Buttery and flakey on the outside and fluffy on the inside. The only thing that could make them better is if I had sliced almonds and powdered sugar.
The conchas are an old family recipe I memorized when I was ten years old. I helped Abuelita Celeste make them every día de los muertos. I’m not sure why I made them tonight. I was on autopilot or something when I decided I needed to bake. Anyway, the more pan dulce the better.
“It’s Letty.” Jess unlocks my phone as I take a bite of a croissant. “She’s outside.”
“What? Already?”
When we hear the knock at the door, I answer.
“Be right there!” I yell, while Jess disappears into her room to grab the new earrings she bought.
I open the door. To my surprise, Letty’s not alone. Grayson Rhodes is with her.