Every String Attached | GirlxGirl

Chapter Thirteen

Shawn couldn't believe it. All it had taken was yet another dare initiated by Chance to make her invite her mystery man—who Shawn learned was named Nathan—to dinner with them.

This was, of course, after Shawn had sent the first text message to York. It had been yet another oblivious dare by Chance. She thought it wouldn't happen, that Shawn wouldn't be brave enough to do it. But, with or without the dare, Shawn was going to text her either way. Their conversation went like this:

4:34PM — Shawn:
Hey York, it's Shawn.

5:01PM — York:
Hey Shawn, it's York.

Shawn could imagine York smiling behind her phone as she sent the message, thinking she was funny, when in reality the joke was awful. Nonetheless, it brought a grin to her own mouth, as she now sat at the kitchen table, watching Chance hurriedly preparing dinner.

"Are we still going out after dinner?" Chance asked. "Shawn?"

"What?"

Chance rolled her eyes. "If I had known you'd be staring at her reply for twenty minutes straight, I would not have told you to text her in the first place."

"I'm trying to figure out what to say back."

"Here's an idea," Chance began, and her entire face lit up, the way it did only when a mischievous thought invaded her mind. Shawn could literally watch as the idea was ignited and then inflated. "Invite her to dinner."

"What? No."

"Yes."

"No."

Chance grinned again, and said, slowly, "Yes, Shawn. She's probably on her way home from work. Go pick her up."

"No way, that's, like... No, Chance. No."

"Yes!" She insisted. "You're making me have a date tonight, which is totally pushing me out of my comfort zone, by the way. And then you're going to sit there as the third wheel and you're going to whine to me about feeling left out when this was your idea in the first place." Chance paused, another thought crossing her mind. "Then again, maybe I should just let you be the third wheel, because I'm so used to being that awkward third person in a taxi on our way home from a bar, with a girl attached to your hip. But no. Not this time."

"Yes, this time, because there's no way that I'm inviting her."

"What if I dared you to do it?"

"Then I guess I'm becoming more like you, because I'm turning this one down," Shawn said, standing up from the table and crossing the room in search for a clean glass.

Chance's eyes flickered with yet another bout of mischief then. Upon the kitchen table, right there in the open, was Shawn's phone, which was currently resting openly on her conversation with York.

Shawn didn't even realize what was happening until Chance ran past her, elbowing her side as she passed, snatching her phone from the table and bolting into the bathroom with it. Shawn didn't comprehend it until she heard the lock click from behind the door.

"Chance," Shawn began, her tone level and calm, "if you love me, you will not do what you're about to do."

"The thing is, Shawn, I have my doubts about York. I've already voiced them to you and you don't want to hear them, because you don't believe me. The only way that I'll get you to see what I mean is by getting to know her—which is good for both you and I."

Shawn's mouth fell open. Chance had been in such a playful, teasing mood, but it had now turned serious. She wasn't joking about not supporting her feelings for York, nor their progressing relationship. And now she was going to screw it up before it had barely started.