Baited by Love novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Two Hundred and Six

Betsy stands on a dining-hall chair and reads Preston's insults aloud with scores. Otto admits Lorelei posted the card, and Lorelei appears at the top of the stairs asking to talk friend to friend.

By dinner the post had nine thousand views and three hundred comments.

I read all of them on my bed with a package of crackers, because the only thing worse than being laughed at is not knowing the exact number.

Some were kind.

"Girl needs a hug."

Most were not.

"Revision NINE?"

"Sixty-four degrees is unhinged. Sixty-six is the correct temperature."

"I would have loved her," said one, and I decided to remember that one.

I closed the app, opened the back of my notebook and looked at my list.

Two hundred and six insults, each one dated, each one scored.

I could have burned it, or cried on it.

I did something worse, which was to take it to lunch.

The dining hall at noon is the most crowded room at Ellsworth.

Preston was at the window table with Lorelei, and Otto sat beside them, staring at his tray.

I walked up to the nearest chair, climbed on it, and cleared my throat.

"Excuse me," I said. "I'd like to read some reviews."

Two hundred people stopped chewing.

Preston half stood. "Betsy, sit down."

"I will in a moment. This is a service review, and I'm required to be accurate."

I opened the notebook.

"Insult number twelve," I said. "September ninth. He told me my jacket looked like it had lost a fight. I gave it a three. It was a fair fight, and the jacket won."

A few people laughed.

"Insult number ninety. He told me my laugh sounds like a printer jamming. Seven, because it does."

More laughter.

Preston said my name again, lower this time, and sat down.

"Round two is for the record," I said. "February. In front of his own father, at the Family Weekend brunch, he said my sandwiches were fine for a girl with nothing better to do. Nine."

I looked at him.

"Nine," I repeated, "because I was holding a tray at the time, and he got a perfect score for timing."

The hall made a long low noise, the sound of two hundred people leaning forward.

Lorelei put her hand over her mouth, and I could not tell if she was laughing or shocked.

"Final round," I said. "Day ninety-nine. I biked forty miles in a thunderstorm to bring him dessert from a bakery that delivers for free. He said it was the most devoted thing he had ever seen."

I turned a page.

"Score," I said, "ten out of ten. It's the only time he's ever complimented me, and he didn't mean a word."

Nobody laughed at that one.

Somebody at the back of the room made a small sound.

I looked, and it was only Lars, alone at his table, with his hand over his mouth and his shoulders very still.

Preston stood all the way up this time.

"That's enough," he said. "You're making a scene."

"I'm making a review," I said. "And I'd give the whole relationship a two out of ten. The delivery was free."

I got down from the chair.

My knees were shaking, and my face was hot.

The room started clapping, and I did not know whether to bow or hide.

I decided to walk.

Otto caught up with me outside, in the stairwell by the mailroom.

He was out of breath and looked guilty.

"Betsy," he said. "I need to tell you something and you can hit me afterward."

"Go ahead."

"The post. I was next to Lorelei in the line for coffee yesterday, and I saw her phone. She took the picture of the card herself. She posted it from the bathroom."

"She was in the bathroom at the time?"

"I don't think that's the important part."

"Probably not," I said, and I put my notebook against my chest.

"I should have told you right away," Otto said. "I should have told you about a lot of things. Preston said it before I could stop him, and I just stood there."

"You told me nobody was replacing me."

"I know."

"You said it four times."

"I know. I'm so sorry. I'm the worst friend you ever had."

"You lent me a charger for a winter," I said. "You're not the worst."

He looked so relieved that I almost handed him a granola bar out of habit.

I caught myself, and the hand stopped halfway.

Then a voice behind us said, warmly, "There you are!"

Lorelei stood at the top of the stairs with her long hair over one shoulder and her sleeves pushed up, smiling at me with her whole face.

"That was brave, what you did," she said. "I'd love to talk, Betsy. Friend to friend?"

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