Roll the Dice

eight. sarah brown

Dacey snapped her fingers in front of my nose, and I jerked up, slapping her arm away. "Ow." She threw me a dirty look. "Your reflexes are so fast." I rolled my eyes. She continued, "But did he mention me at all?"

I awkwardly bit my lip, wringing my hands a little. A single look at her sparkling blue eyes and unusually flushed cheeks almost convinced me to make up something that could somewhat live up to her daydreams, but I wasn't that sort of person. (But I wasn't quite Cara, who always made something sound more negative than it really was.)

"What?" Dacey lifted her chin, putting her hands on my shoulders and effectively stopping the both of us in the middle of the path. I fidgeted my foot to attempt to at least make way for other passerby, but Dacey's grip was extraordinarily tight. I bit down on my lip hard. "Come on; just go on and say it. I need you to tell me the truth in order for me to find success."

Why did she make it sound like she was conducting an ethically dubious experiment on pubescent boys involving the very high levels of testosterone surging through their bodies?

I let out a very long sigh.

Of course I was the one put into this situation. Why couldn't Cara be the one with the apparently attractive college student of an older brother?

"Dace, he didn't say anything about the party to me except for how difficult it was for him to drag me through the kitchen without waking up our parents." I tried to push her hands off my shoulders again, but in vain. I met her eyes, apologetically offering her a half smile. "Sorry?"

She dropped her hands from my shoulders immediately and began to speed walk back down the path. I had to jog to catch up, which was both okay because she did have longer legs than I did and not okay because I was, after all, the cross country runner.

"Don't take it too hard!" I called after her, catching her wrist without much effort. "He tends to notice only the flashiest happenings."

Dacey turned to meet my eyes with a raised eyebrow. "Well, you must have done something."

I rolled my eyes up to the sky, furrowing my brows. "I don't know, actually." I paused. "Something with Dom?"

Immediately, the heat in my cheeks rose, and I lowered my head again, covering my cheeks with both of my hands.

I was so pathetically affected by just the mention of his name. And I was the one who'd said it! This was getting ridiculous.

Dacey was either being unusually kind by choosing not to comment or completely focused on her own situation to notice. She shrugged, starting to walk once again. I took a couple of the longest strides I could to catch up. "Don't expect me to remember. I was probably more drunk than you and Cara together."

We reached a clearing in the woods. The bright sunlight instantly assaulted my eyes, and I squinted. A group of people was approaching, apparently on a run with running shoes and water bottles. They almost jogged right past us, but one of them stopped right next to me. Dacey halted immediately, putting her hands on her hips.

"Lottie," she muttered.

I almost turned around to whisper back a very irked "what?" but then realized that I was facing the exact person that I'd been trying to avoid. (But it wasn't like it was that hard to avoid him, considering the fact that we didn't even run in the same circles usually.)

"Lottie," Dom said.

I coughed, again feeling heat rise to my cheeks, but pointedly avoided his eyes. "Um, hey." I glanced up to the side at him, only to accidentally meet his dark eyes. A bead of sweat was dripping down the side of his face, and he'd probably run his hand through his hair a couple times. That ruffled hair and flushed countenance – too much.