Roll the Dice

twenty-five. sue me

"Did you just"—-Dacey choked—-"just call your own brother hot?"

Obviously, I didn't think through that very much.

"I was messing with my mom," I replied off-handedly. Nowadays, I never found anything too shocking anymore, and funnily enough, I recovered from all my flubs in split seconds. Nothing could surprise me anymore, not after Dom and his confession...

But Dacey was so right—she told me everything that I already knew but needed to hear one more time from a third party. I owed Dom something, anything that would put his mind at ease. And what was I doing now? I was going to avoid him and run away like a fucking coward, because that was what I was. And really, it wasn't even like Dom was a tax collector who was going to fry my ass for neglecting my bills.

He was my crush...who just confessed to me.

And he was awaiting my response, like I was someone important or gorgeous or amazing whom he admired.

"Lottie?" Dacey's voice blasted in my ear. Frowning, I fiddled with my Bluetooth. Was there seriously no way for me to mess with the volume settings on this damned device? I blamed my dad for messing it up before passing it down to me.

"I'm right here," I called back, completely forgetting that she wasn't there with me.

"Hey!" Dacey protested, her voice cracking at the end. Was I going to be kind today and not point that out? Yeah, I was going to be kind. I owed someone that much... "What the fuck are you doing with your phone? Did you break it again?"

The last time I broke my phone, my volume settings got screwed up. And so, whenever I was on the phone with anyone, my voice would come blasting out of that person's speakers, sounding much, much more high-pitched than it truly was. Unfortunately for Dacey, she was pretty much the only person I called—-and I called pretty frequently—-and she had to endure the brunt of the technical difficulties.

"I didn't," I said defensively.

"Then what?"

"She thought I was talking to myself." I walked along the length of the SUV, trailing my hand on the glossy, sleek exterior. Even though I'd never admit it to my dad (who loved the damn thing more than he loved me and my brother combined, probably), it was a gorgeous car.

"Are you using your stupid Bluetooth thing again?" Dacey sighed. "Lottie, those are for middle-aged businessmen who have no other way to get about their busy, boring daily lives. You, on the other hand, are a perfectly interesting teenage girl who has headphones with microphones"—-she cleared her throat meaningfully—-"that you can use."

I shrugged. Then, I realized that Dacey, once again, wasn't there. I sighed. Sometimes, Dacey was so overbearing that I forgot she wasn't always with me. (That was a good thing; I didn't think I could bear to witness Dacey's reactions to everything that happened in my life.) "Those are nerdy too."

"You're a geek," shot back Dacey.

I stopped in the middle of my pacing, hand still lingering on the SUV. "Hey!"

There was a pause in our conversation. My dad came out with his gear and his own suitcase, winking at me. I pretended to choke. (I never wanted to have to witness my dad winking ever again. It was horribly scarring.) From the way he was hurrying back to the shed, I could tell that we were about to set off—he was going to go hook up our bowrider to the back of the SUV.

"But girl," said Dacey, startling me out of my little reverie, "just go enjoy your weekend while you can, all right?" She sighed. "Even if that means you have a hell of a mess facing you after you get back."