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My stomach tightens, and I manage to shake my head, just once, hard. “N-no. Thank you. I mean, he’s fine. It’s not that.”
“Okay, because you’re acting like you just saw a ghost or something, so…” The guy trails off. Something about his stare, its intensity, makes it impossible to look away. His eyes are so dark that in the dim light of the bar, they almost seem black. I can’t tell where the pupils end and the irises begin.
And now I’ve been staring for way too long, especially to judge by the little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth…
I’m considering possible escape routes, the best way to recuse myself from this situation without anyone catching on, when Henry shuffles into view.
“Keanen.” He extends a hand, and the guy reaches out to accept the handshake, although still without taking his gaze from mine. “Long time no see. I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten all about me.”
“The man who served me my first beer at the ripe old age of fifteen? Never.” Keanen grins, and my heart sinks.
In that one motion, I can see the resemblance, clear as day. At the same time, I remember Bette’s words, clear as day. Keanen Kross, my older brother… The quarterback of the Jaguars.
Shit. I take a slow, sliding step back from the bar while Henry chuckles at Keanen, hoping both of them will somehow forget I’m here, allow me to melt into the background.
But then Henry glances at me, still grinning. “Keanen here attends Tanglewood too. He’s a good one to know actually, Missy. Senior this year, so he’ll be leaving soon, but he can introduce you to all the right people. Loves to make connections, that boy, just like his father.”
“You go to Tanglewood?” Keanen’s gaze sharpens, focused right back on me.
I wish I could disappear. Melt into the floorboards, never to be heard from again. Barring that, I force a weak smile. “Uh… yeah. Freshman. Just started this year.”
Keanen nods. “My sister did too.”
“Bette?” I blurt, before I realize how that makes me sound. Like some kind of crazy stalker who knows all about his life already. “Um, I mean, yeah, I met her, actually. She mentioned you. Not that I recognized you, when you came in, or anything, but I…” My face feels so red I’m afraid it’s going to set off the smoke alarm in the bar soon. I glance at Henry, wild-eyed, desperate for help.
Henry just smirks and retreats back toward his side of the bar. “Go easy on Missy here, Keanen,” he says as he leaves. “It’s hard enough to find good help these days.”
Keanen watches Henry go, and then leans against the bar, studying me more closely now. “So, Missy,” he says, his smile sharpening at the edges, “about that drink.”
The entire night, I can feel Keanen’s gaze on me. Boring into me. He’s sitting in the corner with an older guy, someone I don’t recognize—and someone who looks too old to be a student at Tanglewood, thank God. But one person knowing my secret is bad enough.
Especially when that someone doesn’t seem like he’ll be quick to forget it. Every time I manage to forget Keanen’s sitting there, I catch him out of the corner of my eye or in the mirror behind the bar, his dark eyes zeroed in on me. Once, I turn to look at him pointedly, wondering if he’ll break eye contact or at least pretend he wasn’t staring.
Instead he raises one hand and waves, just once. Subtly enough that his conversation partner doesn’t notice. Then he smirks, and turns back to the guy he’s sitting with.
Shit.
The whole time, my heart hammers in my eardrums. I can’t stop thinking about how screwed I am. Less than one week at college, and I’ve already blown my mother’s advice—done the one thing she warned me not to do. She told me to fit in, to pretend I belong here. But no self-respecting highbrow Tanglewood student would be caught dead working in a dive like this.
Keanen’s going to tell Bette now, who’s going to spread it all around school, and there goes any hope I ever had of a social life before it even got off the ground. I am so screwed.
The whole night, I keep checking over my shoulder, as if he’s going to sprint off to spread the news to his friends already. But he doesn’t do anything, aside from chat with the guy he’s sitting with, and occasional steal glances my way. When it comes time for them to settle up the bill, he approaches me again and my heart leaps into my throat.
Here it comes.
Their drinks weren’t much—nothing in this pub costs all that much, which is another reason I figured I was safe from any of the Tanglewood kids ever running into me. But Keanen passes over a $50 bill, at least double what he owes.
