Page 8 of One More Dare
Promote empathy
Looks good on college applications
Develop career skills and interests
I look up at him. “Can I stereotype you again?” He looks amused by my question as he nods. “You play lacrosse, have a fancy laptop, and you tipped us, like, twice what your drink cost, so I’m guessing that money has never been a huge concern for you, is that accurate?”
“Um, yeah, I guess not. What does that have to do with this project?”
I bite my lip. I don’t particularly want to share my personal history with him, and I think my concerns might give some of it away, but I need to do the project, so I guess I’ll just have to do my best to keep things as generalized as I can. “These requirements sound great on paper. In practice, though, especially in lower-income areas where students might already have a lot ofresponsibilities outside of school like jobs, helping take care of family members, things like that, these requirements could add a huge burden. There’s also personal illness, safety, and transportation that could be barriers to completing them. High school is hard enough for a lot of people, why add even more stress?”
Will looks up at me. His blue-green eyes draw my attention like they always do, but they look sad, which is a look I haven’t seen on him yet. It makes something tighten in my gut as he says, “Well, I definitely feel like an entitled asshole, because I hadn’t considered any of that. I’ll add it all and send you an invite to the doc.”
“That works.” I hesitate for a moment. I know it isn’t my responsibility to reassure him, he was a dick to Abbey freshman year, and obviously other girls since then if he’s still getting drinks thrown at him. Not to mention the incident with my bike. But maybe he isn’t quite as bad a person as I’d assumed, so I add, “For what it’s worth, I don’t think entitled assholes actually label themselves that way, so don’t be too hard on yourself.”
His smile returns, and I shrug it off, telling myself that I don’t care when he thanks me. I take my laptop out, and we spend some time quietly researching our points. I bookmark a few articles to read later.
After I yawn for the third time, Will looks up with an apologetic smile. “We can be done for today. Maybe we can meet up between classes this week and check in?”
I immediately shut my computer. I definitely need a nap. “Sounds good.”
We pack up our stuff and walk out together, both hesitating outside the coffee shop. There’s a strange tension between us. Will must feel it too because he sighs.
“Okay, I still feel like you hate me and it’s driving me crazy not knowing why. Can you please tell me?”
“You really don’t remember me?” I ask.
“I don’t.” His shoulders slump as if he’s disappointed in himself for not remembering.
“Well, freshman year, you ran over my bike. I don’t have a car, so that was a big loss for me.”
“Oh fuck,” he gasps. “Holy shit, I completely forgot about that. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, walking everywhere really sucked in the winter. Even if it did snow some, it would’ve been nice to have the option when it didn’t.”
He winces. “Wait, didn’t I give you money? Fuck, I remember being late for a team meeting and not seeing the bike had fallen into the parking spot until I’d already hit it. I’m sorry, Porter.” He’s shaking his head now, and I can tell the memory is filling back in. He’d been exactly like this that day too, actually, all flustered and briefly apologetic, except he’d been in such a rush that the apology lasted about ten seconds.“I’m so sorry, man, I didn’t even see it. Here, take this, I gotta go. Sorry!”And then he was gone, leaving me standing in the parking lot holding two folded up twenties and a bike with a completely fucked-up wheel.
That day, after knowing what he’d also done to Abbey, I decided I hated Will Carter for being a self-centered asshole.
“Yeah, the rack next to it was full, and I didn’t have a lock. Someone must have knocked it over. You definitely didn’t give me enough, but?—”
“Fuck, how much do I owe you?” He cuts me off.
I would’ve loved to hear that question the day it happened. Money was tight—it always is—but freshman year, I hadn’t had anything saved yet, so replacing the bike wasn’t an option. I’d spent every paycheck on things I’d actually needed, and a new bike didn’t make the immediate list.
Looking at Will now though, and how genuinely remorseful he seems years later, I realize he might not actually be a bad guy.
