The Bennett Boys

CHAPTER 15

I got home a little later than expected, but that was only because I volunteered to stay at the Bennett residence for longer than I had to. Bridget tried to convince me that she didn't need my help, but when I saw what the ballroom had looked like, I convinced her that she did. It was a mess, to say the least. And my organized self doesn't do well with messes.

My mom is standing by the stove with a kitchen towel draped across her shoulder. She's making her famous Baked Ziti tonight, and it's my favorite dish that she cooks.

"Sorry I'm late," I tell her when I walk in.

"That's okay, sweetie. I was on a conference call, anyway." She glances over her shoulder, watching me take a seat at the table. "How was work?"

"Exhausting. But you know me. I'd rather be busy than not."

She shakes her head in disbelief. "How are you my child?" she teases before turning back around to heat the dish up in the oven.

My phone beeps with a text and it's from Raegan.

Raegan: Lacrosse game tomorrow?

She mentioned the game to me when we were at The Commons. Even though it's summer, Winston High's varsity team starts playing scrimmages to gear up for the fall season. I think it could be good for me to go. Raegan said she'd introduce me to her friends and I'm sure that Teddy will be there, too, to support Lucas.

Me: I'm in!

Raegan: Great. I'll pick you up at 12.

I'm about to set my phone aside when it beeps again, only this time, with an Instagram notification.

I open it to find a friend request from Lucas's handle: @LBennett17.

I don't know why, but seeing his name on my screen gives me that butterfly feeling in my stomach. I press the phone to my chin, thinking. I'm not contemplating accepting Lucas's request; I know that I'm going to. I just...need a second.

I finally accept it, then ask to follow him back. He's on Private, so I have to wait for him to approve my request. In the meantime, I go to the search box and type in Candace's name. We're not friends on the platform, but she's on Public. I start scrolling through her pictures because a part of me wants to know what kind of girl Lucas is attracted to. I'm usually not one to compare myself to someone else, but it's hard not to with Candace. She's beautiful, rich, and popular. Things that I'm not.

She's dressed in either a crop top and pants or a mini dress with low cleavage in basically every picture – a contrast to my style, for sure. For a second, I think about what I might be like if I changed up my look. Wear my hair down instead of in a tight pony; opt for sexier clothes than ones that hide my body, but then I shake my head and snap out of my absurd thoughts.

At dinner, my mom and I catch each other up on our days and just talk. She's my best friend, so even when we have nothing to really talk about, there's always something to say.

And then my phone beeps.

I cave, reaching for it, to find that Lucas accepted my friend request.

I wait until dinner is over to scroll through his account. He only has 10 posts, most of which are places that he's traveled to. And when I say places, I mean countries. There's also one of him hugging his mom for her birthday, and a selfie of him and Marshall at the Providence Reds hockey game.

Checking Lucas's profile out has me double-checking mine next. I go to my account and scroll through my pictures. Like Lucas, I only have a few, but mine are of scenic views and throw-back pictures to when I was a baby.

I'm about to put my phone away when I get a DM from the devil himself.

LBennett17: Your Instagram is so rated-G, it's scary. Then again, I'm not surprised, LilMillzzz.

I begin typing.

LilMillzzz: Too bad I'm not sorry about it.

LilMillzzz: How'd you find me?

LBennett17: Wasn't asking for an apology.

LBennett17: Typed Lily Miller into the search box, genius.

LBennett17: You were a cute kid. What happened?

LilMillzzz: You know, I'm 5 seconds away from blocking you.

LBennett17: You wouldn't.

LilMillzzz: Oh, but I would.

Lucas reads my last text, but doesn't answer, and I contemplate sending him another message. Why do I want to keep this conversation going?

I refrain from acting on my impulse and decide not to send another message. I won't be the girl that he's used to. The girl that falls at his feet and tries to capture his attention. Right?

Right.