How to Take the Ex Out of Ex-Boyfriend by Janette Rallison Page B

like Wilson and shamelessly flirt with some girls.”
    â€œRight,” he said.
    â€œCome on, let’s see you strut your stuff. Put some of that Italian charm to good use.” Charity pointed to a group of three girls standing by a locker. “There’s some sweet young things, go convince them that you’re the man they want.”
    Dante tilted his head at her but kept walking away from the girls. “Does your father know you talk this way when he’s not around?”
    She smirked at him. “Coward.”
    I tried to stop their argument by holding out my hand to Dante. “Give me the list. I’ll get some names.”
    Dante shoved the list in my direction without looking at me. His eyes narrowed as he considered Charity. “I can’t believe you, of all people, would tell me to use people like Wilson does.”
    She tilted her chin downward and gave him a crooked smile. “Oh, give me a break. I knew you wouldn’t do it. You don’t know how to be charming.”
    His head jerked back as though she’d smacked him again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    She rolled her eyes.
    I raised my voice. “So when I get eight more names—do you want the petition back during school so you can take it to the office, or should I bring it home?”
    Dante still didn’t look at me. “I know how to be charming.”
    Charity laughed, like it was funny.
    â€œYou want charming? I’ll show you charming.” He took the list from my hand and walked over to the drinking fountain where a couple of girls stood talking. They looked like easy enough targets. Freshmen. Maybe sophomores, but you could tell by the way they dressed that they wanted to be older. Well, either that or the expiration on their makeup was tomorrow and they were trying to use it all before it went bad.
    I didn’t want to stop. My trig teacher gets into a snit if we walk into class after the bell rings, but how could I keep from watching? Besides, Charity had firmly stopped. She leaned up against a locker with no apparent sign of ever moving again.
    We watched as Dante smiled at the girls, leaned toward them, and laughed at something one of them said. Which was weird to see, because hey, this was my brother. It’s hard to think of brothers as having a romantic side, since to us sisters, they are simply half-disgusting creatures who leave their dirty socks lying around, snore on the couch, and never clean the bathroom.
    The girls laughed back at whatever Dante had said. One of them tilted her head and looked shyly up at him.
    He handed her the paper and a pen. I could imagine him saying, “Have you lost weight lately? Have you changed your hair?”
    How gross. “If he starts acting like Wilson now,” I told Charity, “I will hold you personally responsible.”
    She let out a huff and sent an angry glare in Dante’s direction, which was totally uncalled for, since she’d been the one to call him charmless in the first place. And then it hit me. Charity liked Dante. Why else would it tick her off that he was over there flirting with those girls?
    Every memory I had of Charity and Dante together suddenly shifted. Things that had never made sense before became clear. I leaned against the locker next to her. “You know, next time you should be more specific and tell him who he’s supposed to be using his charm on.”
    One of the girls took the pen from Dante’s hand and wrote something on the paper. Charity tore her gaze from them. “What do you mean?”
    â€œTell him he’s supposed to be charming you.”
    Her eyes widened, and then she let out another huff. “Why would I want that?”
    Maybe I’d been wrong. “Never mind,” I said.
    She blinked, as though trying to erase any emotion from her large blue eyes. “It would never work out between us. I’m not sixteen yet. Besides, he rides a