A swoony, heart-melting YA romance from beloved author Rebekah Weatherspoon about two awkward teens who decide to practice dating in order to be good at the real thing. Perfect for fans of Nicola Yoon and Jenny Han. Sixteen-year-old Bethany Greene, though confident and self-assured, is what they call a late-bloomer. She’s never had a boyfriend, date, or first kiss. She’s determined to change that but after her crush turns her down cold for Homecoming--declaring her too inexperienced--and all her back-up ideas fall through, she cautiously agrees to go with her best friend’s boyfriend Jacob. A platonic date is better than no date, right? Until Saylor breaks up with said boyfriend. Dumped twice in just two months, Jacob Yeun wonders if he’s the problem. After years hiding behind his camera and a shocking summer glow up, he wasn’t quite ready for all the attention or to be someone’s boyfriend. There are no guides for his particular circumstances, or for taking your ex’s best friend to the dance. Why not make the best of an awkward situation? Bethany and Jacob decide to fake date for practice, building their confidence in matters of the heart. ; And it works--guys are finally noticing Bethany. But things get complicated as their kissing sessions--for research of course!--start to feel real. This arrangement was supposed to help them in dating other people, but what if their perfect match is right in front of them?

Autorentext

Rebekah Weatherspoon

Leseprobe
1
Bethany
(takes a very risky, yet brave, chance)
T
he way I see it, everyone has a type, and if you likethick Black girls of slightly above--average height with very clear, medium brown skin, dimples, and boobs just big enough to consider a reduction in the future, then I’m the girl for you. My type? Oliver Gutierrez, hands down. Problem is, I haven’t figured out if I’m the kind of person he’d go for. He’s had a few girlfriends in his sixteen years and there’s been no pattern among them that I’ve been able to surmise. But today I am determined to find out if I fit intothat randomness. Today, I’m gonna ask Oliver Gutierrez to homecoming.
“You want me to come with?” my best friend Tatum asks as we step out of Ms. Robinson’s fourth period English class. We both have lunch next, with our other besties Glory and Saylor, and Tatum’s girlfriend, Emily. I need to stop by my locker to grab my lunch. Oliver’s locker is next to mine. He has fifth period lunch too. This is my moment to catch him and pop the big question. I’ll push all my anxiety to the side. That weird, fast--talking mumbly thing I do when I get nervous will absolutely not happen. I’ll flash Oliver a sweet, confident smile and ask him if he wants to join me on one of the biggest nights of the year.
It just sucks I have to do the asking in a crowded hallway and not on a quiet, starlit night on Venice Beach like I’d envisioned a million times.
“No. I have to do this on my own,” I say as we stop at Tatum’s locker. I wait as they swap out their books and grab their lunch. Then Tatum turns to face me. They put their hands on my shoulders and I hone in on the blue--and--silverglitter artfully streaked all over their beautiful honey-brown face. There’s a football game tonight. Tatum has some very intense cheerleading to do.
“Bethany Greene, you are an irresistible goddess.”
“She’s right!” some random freshman agrees as she pushes by us.
“Thanks?” I say to the random freshman’s back before I refocus on Tatum’s glitter.
“You walk right up to that boy and you let him know that taking you to homecoming will be the best decision of his life. You can do this.”
“I can do this.”
“You’re beautiful and I love you. Go get ’em, champ,”Tatum says. Nothing uplifts you like a cheerleader telling you you’re beautiful. I can do this. I’m gonna do this. Right now. I let out a deep breath and march down the hall. I turn the corner into the west wing and spot Oliver, head and shoulders over our classmates. He’s wearing his royal--blue home jersey, with the number 87 ironed onto the shoulders. He looks good.
I’m what my moms call a late bloomer. I’ve always been more interested in other things that had nothing to do with boys, but sometime over the summer that changed. Actually, I’m lying. I know the exact moment things changed. I had my friends over to swim in my pool. Glory’s boyfriend and the other juniors on the football team came by after they’d finished one of their preseason workouts. It was all fun and games until a splash fight devolved into something else. I was laughing, trying not to think about how long it was going to take me to blow--dry my knotless braids, when suddenly Oliver picked me up and effortlessly lifted me over his shoulder.
The air left my lungs, water flying all around us. Over the sound of my high--pitched screech, I could hear Glory telling Landon to put her down. I think their plan was some sort of backward chicken fight. I grabbed Oliver’s thick waist and held on for dear life until he put me down. I couldn’t find my breath, between the water running down my face and the odd laughter bubbling out of my lungs. He playfully pushed me out of the way, wrestling Landon into the deep end. The moment between us was over and so was my late bloomer status. Boys had officially entered the chat.
That night after my three--part skincare routine, I brushedmy teeth, kissed the moms good night, exchanged the last few sisterly insults with Jocelyn and Trinity before they were due back to college in a couple days. I climbed into bed and instead of watching my favorite chef on YouTube, all I could think about was Oliver. How strong he was, his tan skin, the tiny pimples on the small of his back, and the few hairs on his upper lip laying the foundation for what would hopefully be a full mustache one day.
That moment in the pool changed everything. My eyes had been opened to how truly hot boys can be and I’m a little embarrassed to say this crush on Oliver has occupied too much of my mind since. I only have one choice. I have to ask him to the dance.
I walk a little faster and catch up with him just as he closes his locker door. He steps back a bit, his eyes flashing wide the second he sees me, and I know I’ve made my first mistake. I’ve come in a little too hot, but I can still fix it.
“Hey, Greene. What’s up?”
“Hey,” I breathe. “How’s it going?”
“Good. You coming to the game tonight?” he asks. It’s something so little, but he hikes his backpack over his broad shoulder and all I can think about is that afternoon in my pool. How he’s built enough to support allthis, all of me.
“Oh yeah. I’ll be there. I gotta emotionally support Glory while she emotionally supports Landon. Cheer on Tatum while they cheer for you.”
“Nice.” He smiles, flashing his slightly crooked incisor, and I quickly wonder what we’ll name our first child. “You heading to lunch?”
“Um, yeah. There was something I wanted to ask you first.”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“Well. I was thinking—-I was wondering if you wanted to be my date to homecoming. To the dance. Landon and Glory are going together of course. So we could all be together.”Stupid, my brain immediately shouts at me. This is not a group thing. It’s you and Oliver. Pure romance. “Not that it would be a double date thing. I mean, half the school will be there, so technically it’s like a huge group date. But you and I…