Page 20 of The Facade

Having him come riding with us would be a lot more intimate. He might actually make eye contact with me for the first time, since it would be harder to make myself invisible in the crowd.

My fingers went tingly as I thought about it. Was I really ready to be forced to talk to him?

Because up until now, I’d been able to imagine that the only reason why Ben wasn’t asking me out was because he just hadn’t noticed me yet or had the opportunity to see how amazing I was.

But once we talked and actually said a few words to each other, what if he went right back to ignoring me again? I’d know for sure it was because of me.

“Why the hesitation?” Mack sounded like he couldn’t imagine why I had to even consider this golden opportunity he was offering me.

“I’m just thinking,” I said.

I looked over at Ben and Elyse. They had already started pulling together the ingredients for today’s chocolate chip oatmeal cookie recipe and he looked super adorable with his eyebrows squished together as he seemed to be trying to figure out which measuring cup to use for the flour.

Mack leaned closer, and in a low voice that sent chills racing down my spine, he said, “I think I heard Ben say something about preferring brunettes over blondes. You could be exactly his type.”

My heart swooped in my chest at the thought of Ben actually being attracted to someone like me. He’d always seemed to go for the taller girls with long legs before—which was how you’d describe my friends Scarlett, Elyse, and Ava way more than how you’d describe me.

I was barely five-foot-two, and sadly for me where my previous dreams of being a prima ballerina were concerned, I was much more torso than legs.

You miss all the shots you don’t take.I heard my dad’s voice in my head.

And so far, I was excellent at stalling at the free-throw line instead of shooting my shot.

So after taking one more look at Ben who was handing Elyse a silver measuring cup I sighed and said, “Okay. If you don’t mind, then I’d love for you to be my wingman.”

6

Cambrielle

I gaveElyse a ride to my house in my red Mercedes after school got out. She’d never driven an ATV before and wanted to get the hang of it before everyone else arrived at four.

“We just keep the ATVs in here,” I pointed to one of the buildings off to the north side of the house near the horse stables.

Elyse nodded and followed behind me, our boots crunching on the leaves that had fallen recently from the tall trees above.

I typed in the code to the garage door, and it slowly lifted to reveal the rows of ATVs. There was a side-by-side that my parents mostly drove, and then parked beside that were a dozen four-wheelers that we had for outings like we had planned today.

“Does it matter which one I use?” Elyse asked, her wide eyes telling me she was somewhat surprised at how many options we had in here.

While I’d grown up with everything I’d ever dreamed of as the daughter of the seventh richest man in the U.S., Elyse and Ava’s mom hadn’t made her fortune until very recently. So it was always interesting to see how my world looked from a newcomer’s eyes.

“I’d probably pick one of those.” I pointed to the black four-wheelers closest to us. “They’re automatic and should be less complicated to drive.”

“You have manual four-wheelers?” Elyse furrowed her brow. “Why?”

I chuckled. “Nash and Carter had a dumb rivalry going a couple of years ago where they wanted to prove who was more macho than the other. For some reason, they decided that having to shift gears while driving through the woods meant you were more manly or something.”

“Really?” Elyse asked, the look on her face telling me she, too, thought they were ridiculous.

“I think being the same age has made them extra competitive sometimes,” I said. “Though I think Mack had his parents get him a manual four-wheeler too, so maybe it’s just a guy thing.”

“Boys are weird,” Elyse said.

“Yes, they are.”

“Well,” Elyse said. “I just want to be able to drive this thing without crashing into a tree, so I’ll happily put aside my tough-girl card and drive the wimpy automatic.”

I smiled at my friend. “Smart.”

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