The two proceeded to bicker about the incident, and the discussion quickly developed into an argument about which of JJ’s siblings was most annoying. From the way they listed off names, he had a lot.
I glanced at Asha. She was mesmerized by the conversation—an exclusive glimpse into the private lives of the Heartbreakers—and Boomer had to nudge her shoulder a few times before she realized he was holding the bread basket for her. I was grateful the boys’ attention was no longer directed at me, because there was no way to answer JJ without the situation getting uncomfortable. I didn’t blame him though. He couldn’t have known Rose had run away.
“Have you ever been to Seattle?” Xander asked, picking up where we left off while expertly steering away from further tension. “You’ll love it. It’s one of my favorite cities…”
But I wasn’t listening. My mind had shifted to my sister again, and all the pain that came with thinking about her. What if we couldn’t find her tomorrow? Or what if we did, and she refused to see me? The possibility was so terrifying my heart felt like it was burning, but not from the searing pain of flames. This was the slow, nerve-tingling ache of frostbite.
A warm hand brushed against the bare skin of my knee, rescuing me from mywhat if, what if, what if.
“Fel?” Alec said softly.
“Yeah?” I asked, and he gestured to my other side with his chin.
I turned. Xander was holding out the salad for me to take. His entire plate was filled with lettuce, so there wasn’t much left for me, but I accepted the bowl and emptied the scraps onto my own.
“Thanks,” I said, and then without thinking, “Are you on a cleanse or something?” Hopefully he wasn’t dieting. The guy was skinny enough as it was.
“No.” He laughed. “I’m allergic.”
“To what?”
He glanced down at my plate, considering. “Pretty much everything. Well, not the spaghetti sauce, but it’d be weird if I ate that without the noodles and meatballs, dontcha think?”
“Allergic?” I repeated, not because I didn’t understand what he meant by it, but because the thought of not being able to eat pasta sounded like a nightmare. Mac and cheese—or any kind of boxed noodle, for that matter—was cheap, which made it a dietary staple in my house.
“Yup. I can’t have gluten, nuts, soy, or seafood,” he said, ticking each item off on his fingers. The cheer in his voice was alarming. “I’m not actually allergic to red meat, but I try to stay away from it.”
“Whatdoyou eat?”
“Lots of things. Chicken, eggs, fruit, vegetables. I make a mean smoothie.”
For the rest of dinner, Asha bombarded Oliver and JJ with questions with the seriousness of a debate moderator. Unlike Alec, they reveled in the attention, each trying to outdo the other with their answers. On our end of the table, Boomer had roped Xander into a one-sided discussion about cars, while I listened quietly as Stella and Alec discussed someone named Cara.
“How’s she doing?” he asked. He’d pushed away his empty plate and was leaning back in his seat, arms folded over his chest.
“Really well,” Stella answered. “Just had her screening, and she’s still in remission.”
“I’m so glad to hear that. Does she have any plans now that she’s better? Go to college, travel, that sort of thing?”
Stella nodded. “She has a list that’s at least twenty miles long.”
Their exchange struck a chord with me. I found myself remembering the night I first met Alec, when he admitted he was only at the masquerade because he knew someoneclose to the cause. Whoever Cara was, she had obviously been sick, and I wondered if she was that person.
As if sensing my confusion, Stella said, “Cara, my brother, Drew, and I are triplets. Cara had non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.”
“Oh, wow,” I exclaimed. “I’m so sorry. That must have been difficult for you.”
“It was, but the boys helped me get through it,” she said, gesturing at Oliver and the band. “Thankfully she’s doing much better now.”
“That’s good,” I said. I didn’t know what else I could possibly say.
Thankfully, JJ interrupted, pushing his chair back and standing. “I’m going to put on something dry,” he announced. “Maybe we could watch a movie afterward?”
“Good idea,” Oliver agreed, throwing his napkin on his plate. “These jeans are seriously starting to chafe.”
“Hey, Oliver,” Alec said. He glanced over at Asha, Boomer, and me before turning back to his friend. He didn’t say anything else, but Oliver caught his drift.
He smiled at us. “I bet you guys want to change too. Let me show you to the guest rooms.”
