It Started with a Bet... (Watty Awards 2011)

"Haley, it's Clarice."

Chapter 20 “Haley, it’s Clarice.”

It's pretty late by the time I realize what I'm doing. Trevor's breathing has long since steadied, but how long have I been playing with his hair for? I pull away, thinking about the best way to get to bed. Mom and Dad have ER duty to tonight, so they won't be home until 6 tomorrow morning. That being said, I still don't want to sleep on the couch sitting up.

I lift Trevor's head off my lap and get off the sofa. I try to set a pillow down and let Trevor's head down slowly, but as I do so, he grabs my arm.

At first I think he knows it's my arm, but it soon becomes apparent that he's mistaken it for a stuffed animal. He tugs on it, and whether it's by force or will, I end up crouching next to the sofa awkwardly, my arm his captive.

It's an awkward moment for me. I can’t sleep sitting down like this. But I, apparently, have become Trevor's new teddy bear.

"Geez, Trevor. I'd rather be sleeping in my bed next to the couch." I don't expect him to answer, but he does, his voice breathless and broken like he's speaking to one in his dream.

"Haley, who's hotter: me or Corey?" It's a silly question, really. But even if Trevor's sleeping I don't want to break it to him.

"Corey," I say finally. "But you are definitely second." He frowns. I feel guilty.

"Trevor, you didn't ask me the more important questions."

"Who do you trust more?" He mumbles.

"You."

"Who do you like more?"

I pause. Neither? Both? And if the answer is the name that pops into my head the second the question leaves his lips, do I really want to say it? "Goodnight, Trevor." I tug my arm out of his grasp and head to my room. Just as I slip into bed, my cellphone begins to vibrate.

"Hello?"

"Haley, it's Clarice." She's choking back tears. I let out a sigh.

"Where are you?"

I grab a post-it and stick it to Trevor's forehead.

Clarice upset. Borrowed car. Hope you don't mind... I'll call if I'm not coming home.

I snag Trevor's keys from the counter and drive off into the night.

***
"Haley, I'm so glad you're here," Clarice sniffs as she opens the door of her apartment. She leads me to her room and flops down on the bed.

"What's up?" She wipes her eyes and hands me her phone. It's a picture texted from Janice. A picture of Janice up against a locker, Matt's face pressed against hers. There's no way to say Janice initiated it. No way. And the locker room setting means they're definitely not drunk.

"I'm sorry," I say finally. "Have you talked to Matt yet?" She shakes her head.

"I'm trying to think of possible explanations. I don't want to get mad at him and find out I had no reason to be upset. Janice is known for screwing with girls whose boyfriends she wants." I feel bad. I actually feel bad. I remember Clarice trying to comfort me all those years ago. In her puffy eyes I see my own. I pull her into a hug.

"I'm sorry." I really am. Trina won't mind, will she? "The picture definitely shows Matt kissing her, but isn't it odd that it would be on her phone? I mean, if she's kissing him, how is she simultaneously taking a picture from that angle? It seems set up." Clarice shakes her head.

"But I don't see any way she could have gotten him to kiss her without seducing him. And in that case, I should be mad at him." I pick her phone up and thumb through the contacts. Finding the one I want, I hit dial and put it on speaker.