The Bet

"Mom, did you ever find yourself fancying somehow you never thought you would?" Shayla twirled her hair with her finger as she awaited a response. Her mother had woken her up with a phone call this morning, but all she could ask were questions - more or less - related to boys.

"That happens quite often in life, honey. Why? Have you found yourself a new man?"

Shayla's mother was never truly fond of Dave. Especially when she would appeared with bruises that weren't from her father.

"That's the thing. I don't know! I mean, he's your average teenage boy but he's also different in a complex way. Like, we have the best talks with each other sometimes."

"Where did you meet him?" she asked.

"He's my partner in chemistry. Or he was, I think we're done with our units today."

As much as she hated to admit it, she was going to miss being partners with him. Shayla had pretty much given up on pushing aside thoughts of Billie in her mind now. He was there. Stuck. And she was falling.

*

"There's been progress with the bet, my friend." Billie smiled as he brought the joint to his lips.

Billie and Mike were behind the school smoking their daily joint a little early today.

"What's the news?" Mike inquired.

"I have a gut instinct that tells me she's officially hooked on me. We had a nice talk last night after the show, and I can tell there's feelings forming."

"You two seem to spend an a lot of time together. Do you ever think you could be falling for her as well? You don't seem to be faking when you're with her."

Mike passed the joint back to his friend, who was too blazed to understand what he philosophical friend was talking about.

He laughed. "What-the-fuck-ever dude. Give me this damn joint."

Mike rolled his eyes. "You're stupid Bil, and you're going to land yourself in a lot of trouble."

*

Shayla was too focused on shading her San Fransisco sketch that she didn't notice a figure approach her until their shadow suddenly blocked her view.

"Excuse me," she said politely, biting her tongue.

"Sorry. Do you need all this light?" A familiar voice asked, backing up until she could see again. Shayla looked up, surprised.

"Billie, what are you doing in the Art wing?" She put her pencil down, shaking her hand from gripping so hard.

"I told you I wanted to see the real you, and I figured what better way to do that then to see you in action."

She chuckled lightly. "If you want to see the real me, you need to see my bedroom. My most private paintings and sketches are in there."

"That's no problem." He shrugged. "What are you doing after school?"

Once again, Shayla was surprised. She was starting to think it was about time to get used to him being so upfront.

"Well, uh, I'm not really doing anything. Actually, I have nothing planned. I suppose you could stop by for a while."

Shayla still had yet to run across her father. After being out for the majority of the weekend, she was being hesitant to being around him. She knew she had a confrontation to look forward to.

*

Upon entering her bedroom, Billie braced himself for what he imagined her room would look like. Knowing her, it must be pretty spotless and bare. A desk, a bookshelf, and a bed was all he could imagine her having.

"Okay, no judging. I told you my room had all the answers." She held her hand on the doorknob, but turned to give him a fair warning.

He laughed. "I understand, Shay, now let me see your damn room."

Dirty laundry. Splattered painted walls. Multiple canvases. Sketches. Bookshelves. Queen sized bed. Punk music. Vinyl. Posters. Sketch books scattered underneath the bed. Journals. Street signs.

"Who are you?" he asked, amazed, as he slowly entered her bedroom.

"I'm Shayla," she answered simply.

"No, who are you?" He glanced at her over his shoulder.

"What do you mean?"

"You're no ordinary girl. I've noticed about every single girl there is to notice and I've never been as amazed or intrigued as I am right now." He walked over to her bed and fell backward into the softness.

Shayla giggled. "Yeah, my bed is pretty much to die for."

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, uh, I would love to lay on this for hours."

Shayla leaned against the doorway, smiling. "I'm glad you're not passing judgment on how orderly my bedroom is not."

"I won't lie, I'm kind of disappointed." He chuckled, patting a spot on next to him.

Shayla was hesitant. She didn't want them to get too comfy with each other and have her dad walk in on them.

"I don't know..." She frowned. "My dad."

"Won't be home for a while, right?"

"Right, but, that doesn't mean..."

He rolled his eyes. "Shayla, come here, please."

He smiled his lopsided grin as she slowly walked over and joined him on the bed.

"I feel like we should be making out or something." she laughed.

"I am going to kiss you," he admitted.

"You are?" She furrowed her eyebrows, her heartbeat slowly speeding up.

He chuckled, leaning closer into her and cupping her face in his hands.

"Yeah."

He leaned in until their faces were centimeter apart, and he delicately kissed the tip of her nose.

"Oh," she whispered, barely audible, as her cheeks lit up from embarrassment.