The Duff: Designated Ugly Fat Friend (14 page)

“I… I don’t think that’s necessary,” I managed. His lips were moving down my neck, sending an electric current up my spine.

“Oh,” he growled playfully. “I do.”

I laughed as he shoved me to the floor, one of his hands perfectly catching the space above my left hip where I was most ticklish.
He’d discovered that spot a couple of weeks ago, and I was furious with myself for letting him use it against me. Now he could
make me squirm and laugh uncontrollably whenever he wanted, and I could tell that he totally got off on it. Jerk.

His fingers probed the sensitive spot over my hip as his mouth moved from my collarbone to my ear. I was laughing so hard
I could barely breathe. Not fair. So not fair. I made a halfhearted attempt to kick him away, but he trapped my leg between
his and proceeded to tickle me harder.

Just when I thought I might pass out from lack of oxygen, I felt something vibrate in my back pocket. “Stop, stop!” I cried,
shoving Wesley away. He rolled off me, and I stumbled to my feet, trying to catch my breath, and took my phone out of my pocket.
I expected it to be Mom, letting me know how things had gone with Dad—putting any worries I might still have at ease—but when
I glanced at the ID, my stomach lurched.

“Oh, shit. Casey.” I looked down at Wesley, still lying on the floor, his hands tucked behind his head. His T-shirt had ridden
up a little, and I could just make out his hip bones, peeking out beneath the green fabric. “Don’t say anything,” I told him.
“She
cannot
know I’m here.” I flipped open the phone then and said, as smoothly as I could, “Hello?”

“Hey.” She sounded pissed. “What the hell happened to you tonight? Jess said the three of us were meeting for Valentine’s
Day, but you never showed.”

“Sorry,” I said. “Something came up.”

“Bianca, you’ve been saying that a lot lately. Something is always coming up or you have plans or…”

Suddenly, I felt Wesley’s breath hit the back of my neck. He’d gotten up from the floor and slid up behind me without me realizing
it. His arms slid around my waist from behind, his fingers undoing the button of my jeans before I could stop him.

“… and Jess had her hopes up that we’d do something fun…”

I couldn’t focus on a word Casey was saying as Wesley’s hand slid beneath the waistband of my pants, his fingers moving lower
and lower.

I couldn’t say a word. I couldn’t tell him to stop or show any reaction at all. If I did, Casey would know I wasn’t alone.
But, God, I could feel my whole body turning into a ball of fire. Wesley was laughing against my neck, knowing he was driving
me crazy.

“… I just don’t understand what’s up with you.”

I bit my lip to keep from gasping as Wesley’s fingers slipped to places that made my knees shake. I could feel the smirk on
his lips as they moved to my ear. Asshole. He was trying to torture me. I couldn’t handle it much longer.

“Bianca, are you there?”

Wesley bit my earlobe and pushed my jeans even lower with his free hand as the other continued to make me shiver.

“Casey, I have to go.”

“What? B, I—”

I snapped the phone shut and dropped it on the floor. I pushed Wesley’s arms away from me and spun around to face him. Sure
enough, he was grinning.

“You son of a—”

“Hey,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “You said not to say anything. You didn’t say I couldn’t—”

I dove for my abandoned video game controller and clicked the button that would restart the match, determined to teach him
a lesson for messing with me like that. I’d already gotten in a few
good blows before Wesley was able to retrieve his own controller and fight back.

“And you accuse me of being a cheater,” he said, blocking the punch my gladiator girl threw at him.

“Well, you deserve it,” I snapped, furiously tapping attack buttons.

It didn’t matter. Even with my dramatic head start, he still beat me. Damn it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Duffy.” Wesley turned to grin at me, his gray eyes sparkling with cocky triumph.

Why did he have to say that?
I wondered as my thoughts drifted back to my parents. Had Mom broken the news to Dad yet? Were they fighting? Or crying?

“Bianca.”

I realized I’d been biting my lip a little too hard as the metallic taste of blood touched the tip of my tongue. I blinked
at Wesley, who was watching me closely. He stared at me for a long moment, but instead of asking me what was wrong or if I’d
be okay, he picked up his controller again. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll take it easy on you this time.”

I forced a smile. Everything would work itself out. It had to. “Don’t be stupid,” I told Wesley. “I’m going to kick your ass
this time. I’ve just been holding back.”

He laughed, knowing I was full of shit. “We’ll see about that.”

And we started another game.

I’d never heard anything so freaking loud in my life. It sounded like a bomb was going off right next to my ear… a bomb that
pulsed to the beat of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.” Groggily I rolled over and picked my vibrating cell phone up off the nightstand,
glancing at the time before I answered.

Five o’clock in the morning.

“Hello?” I groaned.

“Sorry to wake you up, honey,” Mom said through the speaker. “I didn’t wake Casey up too, did I?”

“Mm-mm. You’re fine. What’s up?”

“I left the house about two hours ago,” she said. “Your dad and I had a long talk, but… he didn’t handle it very well, Bianca.
I knew he wouldn’t. Anyway, I’ve just been driving around since then, trying to figure out what to do next. I’ve decided to
check into a hotel in Oak Hill for a few days so that I can spend more
time with you, and this weekend I’m gonna start moving down to Tennessee. Your granddad needs someone to look after him. It’ll
be a nice place to settle down. Don’t you think?”

“Sure,” I murmured.

“I’m sorry,” Mom said. “I should have told you all this later. Go back to sleep. Call me when you get out of school, and I’ll
tell you which hotel I’m in. Maybe we can go see a movie tonight?”

“Sounds good. Bye, Mom.”

“Bye, baby.”

I put my phone back on the nightstand and stretched my arms over my head, stifling a yawn. This bed, with its cushy mattress
and expensive sheets, was way too damn comfortable. I’d never had such a hard time getting up in the morning, but I managed
to plant my feet on the carpet eventually.

“Where are you going?” Wesley asked in a semi-sleepy voice.

“Home.” I pulled on my jeans. “I’ve gotta take a shower and get ready for school.”

He pushed himself up on one elbow to look at me. His hair was a mess, brown curls falling into his eyes and sticking up in
the back. “You can shower here,” he offered. “I might even join you if you’re lucky.”

“No, thanks.” I grabbed my jacket off the floor and slung it over my shoulders. “Will I wake your parents up if I go out the
front door?”

“That would be difficult considering they’re not here.”

“They didn’t come home last night?”

“They won’t be home for a week,” Wesley said. “And God knows how long they’ll stay then. A day. Maybe two.”

Now that I thought about it, I’d never seen another car in the almost-mansion’s driveway. Wesley always seemed to be the only
one here when I came over—which was pretty freaking often these days. “Where are they?”

“I don’t remember.” He shrugged and rolled onto his back again. “Business trip. Caribbean vacation. I can never keep up with
them.”

“What about your sister?”

“Amy stays with our grandmother when my parents are out of town,” he said. “Which is essentially all the time.”

Slowly I moved back to the bed. “So,” I said quietly, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “Why don’t you stay there, too?
I bet your sister would like having you around.”

“She might,” Wesley agreed. “My grandmother, however, is a different story. She detests me. She doesn’t approve of my”—he
made air quotes—“
lifestyle
. Apparently I’m a disgrace to the Rush name, and my father ought to be ashamed of me.” His laugh was hollow and cold. “Because
he and my mother are the staple of perfection, you know.”

“How does your grandmother know about your, uh, lifestyle?”

“She hears the gossip from her friends. Old hags hear their granddaughters swooning over me—and who can blame them?—and then
they tell my grandmother all about it. She might actually
like
me if I’d date a girl seriously for a while, but part of me just doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction. I shouldn’t have
to change my life to suit her or anyone else.”

“I understand what you mean.” And I did. Because I’d had that same thought a million times over the years. Recently, it had
even pertained to him. It would be easy to change Wesley’s opinion of me, to hang out with different people or bring another
girl into my circle of friends—like that freshman from the basketball game—to avoid being the Duff. But why should I do anything
just to fix what he or anyone else thought about me? I shouldn’t have to.

And neither should he.

Somehow, though, his situation felt different. I glanced around the room, feeling stupid for even comparing it to the Duff
issue. Then, without meaning to, I found myself asking, “But don’t you get lonely? In this big house by yourself.”

Oh my God. Was I actually feeling
sorry
for Wesley? Wesley the womanizer? Filthy-rich Wesley? Wesley the jackass? Of all the emotions I’d felt for him, sympathy
had never come up. What the hell was going on?

But if there was anything I could relate to, it was family drama. So it seemed like Wesley and I had some stuff in common.
Ugh.

“You forget how rarely I’m alone.” He pushed himself into a sitting position and looked at me with a smirk. It didn’t touch
his eyes, though. “You aren’t the only one who finds me irresistible, Duffy. I usually have an endless flow of attractive
houseguests.”

I bit my lip, not sure if I should say what was on my mind. Finally, I decided I might as well throw it out there. It wouldn’t
do any harm, after all. “Listen, Wesley, this may sound weird coming from me, since I hate you and all, but you can tell me
stuff if you want.” It sounded like something out of a cheesy G-rated movie. Great. “I mean, I vented all of my shit about
Jake to you, so if you want to do the same,… well, I’m cool with that.”

The smirk slipped for a second. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Then he cleared his throat and added stiffly, “Didn’t you say that
you needed to go home? You don’t want to be late for school.”

“Right.”

I started to stand, but his warm hand closed around my wrist. I turned around and found him looking at me. He leaned forward
and pressed his lips against mine. Before I even realized what was happening, he pulled away and whispered, “Thank you, Bianca.”

“Um… no problem.”

I didn’t know what to make of it. Every other time Wesley and I had kissed, it had been a fierce, warlike make-out. A lead-in
to sex. He’d never kissed me in such a gentle, greedless way, and it kind of freaked me out.

But I didn’t have time to think about it as I ran down the stairs and through the foyer. Once I was in my car, I had to speed—which
I really, really hate to do—all the way to my house, and I still didn’t get there before six. That gave me only an hour and
a half to shower, get dressed, and check on Dad. What a fantastic way to start the morning.

Even better was the fact that I could tell the living room lights were on when I pulled into my driveway. Not a good sign.
Dad always—
always—
turned out every light in the house before bed. He treated it like a ritual. The fact that he’d left them on was definitely
a bad omen.

I heard the snoring as soon as I tiptoed inside and instantly knew he’d bought more beer. Even before I saw the bottles on
the coffee table or his unconscious form on the couch, I knew.

He’d gotten drunk enough to pass out.

I started to move forward but stopped myself. As much as I might want to, I didn’t have time to clean up Dad’s mess. I needed
to go upstairs. I needed to go to school. And as I crept up to my bedroom, I told myself that he would be fine. He was just
shocked, it would be fine, and this… episode would pass without incident. I could hardly hold a few drinks against the guy,
considering the bombshell Mom dropped on him, could I?

I took a quick shower and blow-dried my hair (which always takes forever; seriously, maybe I should just hack all my hair
off like Casey instead of wasting my time) before putting on some fresh clothes. After I brushed my teeth, I headed downstairs
again and went into the kitchen to grab a Pop-Tart for the road. Then I took off, out the front door.

By the time I got to school, the student parking lot was almost full. I had to park in the very back row and jog—with my twenty-pound
backpack—to the double doors. Of course that left me out of breath by the time I made it into the main hallway.
God,
I thought miserably as I lugged my fat ass toward Spanish,
no wonder I’m the Duff. I’m so fucking out of shape it’s depressing.

Well, at least the halls were pretty much empty. That meant no one had to witness my patheticness.

“Hey, where’d you go yesterday?” Jessica asked when I slumped into my desk only seconds before the bell rang. “You weren’t
at lunch or in English. Casey and I were kind of worried.”

“I left school early.”

“I thought the three of us were gonna have a Valentine’s Day thing to celebrate that we’re all single.”

“That’s kind of ironic, don’t you think?” I sighed and shook
my head, trying not to look into her big, hurt eyes. God, she was good at making me feel guilty. And I knew I was going to
pay for hanging up on Casey last night. “Sorry, Jessica. Something came up yesterday. I’ll tell you about it after school,
okay?”

Before she could say anything, Mrs. Romali cleared her throat and shouted, “
Silencio! Buenos días, amigos.
Today we’re going to get started on the present progressive tense, and I’ll warn you now that it’s pretty darn difficult.”