The Duff: Designated Ugly Fat Friend (28 page)

He turned his attention back to me. “Yes. Hope is good. Bianca, I—” He grinned wickedly. “I knew you’d give in sooner or later.”
He put his hand on my knee and ran it smoothly up my thigh. “You’re finally going to admit that you love me, aren’t you?”

I swatted his hand away. “First of all,” I began, “I don’t
love
you. I love my family and maybe even Casey and Jessica, but romantic love takes years upon years to develop. So I don’t love
you. But I will admit, I’ve thought a lot about you lately and I definitely have feelings for you… feelings other than hatred
for the most part. And maybe it’s possible—in the future—that I… could love you.” I hesitated, a little scared of the words
that’d just left my mouth. “But I still want to kill you most of the time.”

Wesley’s grin turned into a genuine smile. “God, I’ve missed you.” He leaned down to kiss me, but I held up my hand to stop
him. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

“You’re not getting into my pants tonight, asshole,” I said, remembering Vikki and the scare she’d gone through. I wasn’t
going to suddenly become a nun or anything, but after realizing how easily we might have swapped roles, I knew a few things
would have to change. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right. We’re going to move at the speed of a normal
high school relationship.”

He reached forward and touched the little white
B
that lay right between my collarbones, twisting the charm that Mom had given me between his thumb and forefinger, almost
absentmindedly. “But neither of us is normal.”

“That’s true,” I acknowledged. “But this part of us will be normal. Look, I’m not saying we can’t build back up to that point.
We’ll just… take it a little more slowly.”

Wesley thought about this for a moment before letting that crooked grin slide across his lips again. “Okay,” he said, leaning
forward a little to look me in the eyes. “That’s fine. There are other things we can do.” His fingers released my necklace
and moved across my collarbone, gliding down my arm and sending a shiver up my spine. “I have a job to finish, I believe.
We were interrupted last time—in your bedroom—but I could show you again. I look forward to showing you.”

I took a deep breath, trying to ignore this statement and the burst of excitement it gave me. “You’re going to take me on
dates,” I continued, clearing my throat. “Nice dates. And you’re never ever going to call me Duffy again either.”

Wesley’s smirk faded and he bit his lip. “Bianca,” he said quietly. I could barely hear him over the music. “I’m sorry. I
didn’t know how much it hurt you. I should never have called you the Duff in the first place. I didn’t know you then. I didn’t—”

I shook my head. “Don’t bother making excuses,” I said. “Don’t waste your time because, the fact is, I am the Duff. But so
is everyone else in the world. We’re all fucking Duffs.”

“I’m not the Duff,” Wesley said confidently.

“That’s because you don’t have friends.”

“Oh. Right.”

“And,” I continued, “I’m probably going to be a bitch most of the time. I guarantee I’ll find a reason to yell at you almost
every day, and don’t be surprised if a few drinks get dumped on you from
time to time. That’s just me, and you’re going to have to deal with it. Because I’m not changing for you or anyone else. And
I—”

Wesley slid off his bar stool and pressed his lips against mine before the words could get out. My heart pounded as every
thought vacated my mind. One of his arms encircled my waist, pulling me as close to him as possible, and his free hand cupped
my face, his thumb tracing my cheekbone. He kissed me so passionately I thought we would catch on fire.

It wasn’t until after he pulled away, both of us in need of some air, that I could think straight again.

“You jerk!” I yelled, pushing him away from me. “Kissing me to make me shut up? God, you’re so obnoxious. I could just
throw
something at you right now.”

Wesley hopped onto his bar stool with a big grin, and I suddenly remembered him telling me that I was sexy when I was mad
at him. Go figure. “Excuse me, Joe,” he called to the bartender. “I think Bianca wants a Cherry Coke.”

Despite my best efforts, I smiled. He wasn’t perfect, or even remotely close, for that matter, but, hey, neither was I. We
were both pretty fucked up. Somehow, though, that made everything more exciting. Yeah, it was sick and twisted, but that’s
reality, right? Escape is impossible, so why not embrace it?

Wesley took my hand and laced his fingers with mine. “You look beautiful tonight, Bianca.”

Thanks to the amazing people I was given the honor of working with. My editor, the incomparable Kate Sullivan, whose thoughtfulness
and insight have helped me make this book a million times better than I ever thought it could be. The entire Poppy crew for
their overwhelming enthusiasm. And my fabulous agent, Joanna Stampfel-Volpe—who is, without a doubt, this book’s biggest fan—for
always understanding
exactly
where I was coming from. Thank you all for making my dreams come true.

Special thanks to my cheerleaders: Hannah Wydey, Linda Ge, and Krista Ashe for reading this book in its earliest form and
still managing to love it; Amy Lukavics, my “online BFF” and all-around awesome woman, for cheering me on from chapter one—fate
has truly made our paths cross!; and Kristin Briana Otts, Kirsten Hubbard, and Kristin Miller for being the best support group
ever.
I hope we can have a K4 Book Tour one day.
And a general gush of gratitude for the people at Teens Writing for Teens, YA Highway, and Absolute Write. I couldn’t have
done this without you.

Undying appreciation belongs to my supportive friends: Shana Hancock, Molly Troutman, Stacy Timberlake, Aja Wilhite, Kyle
Walker, Cody Ogilby, and Allison Austen. Thanks for putting up with me while I wrote this book, even when I probably drove
you
insane!

And, most of all, thank you to my family, Mom, Dad, and Chelle: you knew I would be a writer, even when I thought it was impossible.
I would be nowhere without your encouragement, patience, and love. Not everyone is blessed with a family who supports their
artistic fancies. Thank you so much for believing in me. I love you.