“You guys are way more excited about this than you should be,” I said.
Ally beamed at me. “You do know what this would mean, right?”
“That I can expect to be splashed with a bucket of pig’s blood at the game?” I asked cynically.
“Not if I can help it,” my brother said behind me. “Besides, no one would do that to the quarterback’s sister.”
I grimaced as he reached over my shoulder and grabbed the lone breadstick on my tray. Brady liked to remind me of his accomplishments at every turn, which often meant speaking of himself in the third person. Since this past summer, he referred to himself as “the quarterback” — or worse, “the QB” — as though I was supposed to be impressed. It was bad enough that half the girls in the school drooled over him — and were angry with me for not letting them use me to get to him. But as a senior, he’d really let it go to his head. Yes, he was a good-looking guy, and yes, he was a good athlete. But sometimes it was like he’d forgotten that I’d been around most of his life.
“Hi, Brady.” I didn’t bother to turn around.
He rubbed the top of my head with his knuckles, and I swiped his hand away.
“So why would anyone want to douse you with pig’s blood?”
Talia nodded at Finn. “You tell him.”
“Bianca’s probably going to be named Homecoming Princess. She’s leading the exit polls by about a sixteen-point margin,” he announced, his voice cracking. His ears turned as red as his hair because of it, but he cleared his throat and continued. “It’s a comfortable enough lead that I recommend she starts thinking of what she should wear to the game.”
“Ooh,” Ally squealed. “Shopping!”
“She ought to think about going to the dance,” Brady said, reaching for the chocolate cake on my tray. I slapped his hand.
“You’ve been bugging me about going to that stupid dance since the beginning of the year,” I said with a scowl. I gestured to my friends at the table. “We’ve already made plans for that night.”
“A James Bond marathon hardly counts as making plans. You guys do that all the time.”
“Not all the time,” Finn said, adjusting his glasses. “This would only be our fourth one.”
“Fine, but you do stupid movie marathons all the time.”
“Are you still bugging her about going to Homecoming?” a familiar voice behind me said.
I turned and beamed at Brady’s best friend, grateful for the support. “Hey, Tim!”
My brother lifted his chin toward Finn. “Marks over there said Bianca’s going to be class princess.”
“That’s kind of cool,” Tim replied.
“Sure, but then she’ll be the only princess ever to skip the dance.”
“I’ve already told you I’m not going to one of those stupid dances just for the sake of it,” I reminded him. “If I ever do, I’m going with someone who likes me at least as much as I like him.”
Tim ran his fingers through his sandy blond hair and rested his hand on the back of his neck. “Leave her alone, man.”
“Yeah! What he said.” I smiled up at him.
Timothy Dorscher was like my brother. I’d known him since I was about four. He was an inch or two taller than Brady’s six-foot height, and he had these really warm brown eyes that were easy to get lost in, like a chocolate molten lava cake. His straight nose and strong, chiseled jaw along with his lopsided grin made him look older than his seventeen years.
He and Brady did everything together, and I was positive they could read each other's thoughts. I liked to tell my brother that he was only a good quarterback because Tim was his wide receiver and always knew ahead of time where he would throw the ball. But they disagreed as only best friends could, so I knew I could count on Tim to stick up for me whenever Brady gave me a hard time — which was often.
Brady snorted. “Whatever,” he said, taking fries off Talia’s tray and stuffing them into his mouth. “Only a loser would want to take you to Homecoming, anyway.”
Tim punched my brother in the arm before he walked away.
“Don’t you ever buy your own lunch?” Finn asked my brother.
I snickered. Very few people were brave enough to talk to Brady like that.
“Of course not,” my brother replied. “I don’t need to.” He snatched the chocolate cake off my tray and hurried after his best friend.
“Brady!” I yelled after him, my reprimand lost in the din of conversation around me. I turned to Talia. “He is so obnoxious.”
“That cake’s probably about three days old, anyway.”
Ally knocked over my soda, covering her mouth as she gasped. We all jumped up and moved our stuff away from the spreading mess. I pulled napkins off everyone’s trays and tossed them onto the table.
“You guys,” she said under her breath as she helped me wipe up the spill. “Don’t look now, but Dante is looking this way.”
And, of course, because she told us not to look, all of us — Finn included — turned our heads in search of him. Sure enough, Dante Schwartz was staring in our direction.
I didn’t know Dante that well because he ran in a different circle than mine. Even in the one class we had together last year, I didn’t talk to him much. Besides, he only went out with the prettiest girls in our class, which put him way out of my league. He was on a whole other level of cute, with dark hair that fell into piercing hazel eyes in just the right way, a narrow face, and a slight cleft in his chin. And when he smiled, he revealed these perfect, straight teeth in a way that made any warm-blooded girl’s insides melt.
Okay, so I may have spent considerable time studying his profile last year in algebra class.
“Ugh,” Talia said, looking away with a shudder. “He’s such a cretin.”
“He’s cute, though,” Ally said.
“You think everyone is cute,” Talia retorted. “Did you know he got a bunch of kids calling me ‘skunk girl’ all throughout middle school?”
“Schwartz is a jerk,” Finn declared as he sat down and returned his attention to the half-eaten burger before him. “He goes around acting like he’s God’s gift to the girls of Westgate or something. I don’t know what any of you see in him.”
Talia made a face. “I don’t see anything in him. In fact, I can’t stand him. If he’s God’s gift, then I really hope He attached a gift receipt.”
I laughed, but I stole another glance over my shoulder at Dante. His eyes locked with mine before he grinned. I caught my breath and offered a shy smile in return before I looked away
Table of Contents
I Love Him, I Love Him Not
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Acknowledgements
Books by Ella Martin
About the Author
Also by Ella Martin