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“How should I know?”
Dixon fetched her breakfast from atop a book bag.
Blair’s gaze lingered on his face. “Sometimes I lose them. Is it squishy?”
He squeezed the bottom and nodded.
“I told you I had a muffin.” Blair pinched the top and nibbled a blueberry. “Why did you let outsiders into to my tower, Kenna?”
“Tell Dixon thank you first.”
“Thank you first,” Blair said absently. “Why did you let outsiders into my tower?”
“It’s not your tower, and they are friends.”
“Whose?”
“Ours.”
“Yours. Not mine. I don’t have friends. Friends are boring.”
Dixon chuckled and crouched beside the telescope, stooping to peek through the eyepiece.
“Don’t touch it,” Blair said, swatting him away. “You’ll knock it out of alignment.”
Kenna rolled her eyes. “He’s just curious. Must you be so impolite?”
“I’m neither polite nor impolite. Go away. I’m too busy to pretend an interest tonight.”
“You’re always too busy, and you’ve forgotten your coat again.”
“It’s not cold.”
“It’s barely above freezing, and it will only get colder.”
“I remembered my hat and gloves.” Blair took another bite of muffin.
“A hat and gloves aren’t warm enough.”
Lila extended her hand, hoping to quiet the argument between the sisters. “My name is Lila.”
Blair stared at her fingers. “I don’t shake hands. People are always clammy or warm or sticky. It’s unsettling.”
Dixon laughed, a little sputter that threatened to turn into more.
His dimples reappeared.
Blair noticed them. “Who are you?”
He flipped his notepad around and pointed at his name.
“Dixon Leclair. What an odd name. Why do you insist on molesting my telescope?”
He fished in his pocket for his pencil.
“Cat got your tongue?”
No, someone else got there first.
