Page 10 of Betting on You

“Yeah.” He did a little shoulder-shrug motion—God, I remembered his propensity for careless shrugging like we’djustbeen on the plane together—and said, “Our anniversary was last month.”

I laughed again; I couldn’t help it.Washe serious?

“What’s funny?” He looked like he genuinely didn’t understand.

“It’s just… I don’t know… It’s just sohopefulof you,” Iexplained, remembering his definitive (depressing) opinions on relationships. “On the plane, you told me relationships are pointless and we’ve got a better chance of being struck with Ebola than finding happily ever after.”

The corner of his mouth slid up into a flirtatious smirk, and he gave me a chin nod. “You remembered what I said on the plane, huh?”

“I did,” I said, unable to believe that the jerk was taking my remembrance of his idiotic words to be some sort of compliment. “Because it was asinine. Your theories were sostupidthat it was impossible for me to forget them.”

“You’ve been thinking of me for all these years?” He looked like he absolutely believed that as he tilted his head and said, “That’s nice, Glasses.”

I gave my head a shake and opened my mouth, but I literally could not think of a response to his arrogance.

And he knew that, because his smirk transformed into a full-on smile of amusement. “And regarding my thoughts on relationships, what can I say? I’ve evolved.”

“Sure you have.”

The line moved forward, and I screamed internally for it to move faster and end my torture.

“What about you?” Mr. Nothing’s eyes ran all over me before returning to my face. “Is Poofy Hair your boyfriend?”

Don’t give him the satisfaction, Bailey.I glanced around beforecalmlysaying, “He doesnothave poofy hair.”

“I stand corrected,” he said, putting his hands into his pockets. “Is Sweater from Baby Gap your boyfriend?”

I rolled my eyes, which was something I rarely did anymore. My mother called it rude, and she was right, but I couldn’t hold back when in the presence of Mr. Annoying. I said, “Zack, the guy you saw me with whose sweater fits him just right, by the way, is, in fact, my boyfriend.”

“Did you tell him about us?” he asked, his lips turning back into that sarcastic half smile.

“What?” I felt my eyebrows squeeze together in what seemed to be my default response—aside from the eye rolling—to Mr. Nothing. “No. I mean, there is no ‘us’ to even tell him about.”

“You could’ve told him we’re old friends,” he suggested. “I’m the friend you flew across the country with.”

“I thought you said guys and girls couldn’t be friends.” I crossed my arms over my chest and felt a wave of satisfaction surge through me as I threw his words back at him.

“What? When did I say that?”

He looked genuinely confused, and I was more than happy to remind him of his ridiculousness. “You told me that on the flight from Fairbanks.”

“Wonder why I said that.” He barely paused before adding, “Actually, that’s pretty accurate. They totally cannot.”

“Can I help you?”

I stepped up to the counter and looked at the guy who was waiting for me to order. “Yes. Um, could I please have one small plain popcorn and one small buttered?”

“No problem.” He started punching my order into the register.

“Can you please pour them into a large tub?”

“Together…?” The guy looked at me like I was weird, but he was still smiley. “Sure.”

I thought I heard a snort from behind me.

“And can you please not shake them up?” My cheeks were warm as I quietly added, “Thank you.”

“Labor-intensive,” Mr. Nothing muttered, but I refused to look in his direction.

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