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“You’re blushing,” Morgan says, tapping my knee. I bring my palms up to my face and cover my hot skin. I smile behind them, though, the entire time.
“Guys, there were seriously some ugly words spoken, and some petty shit and behavior—on both our parts,” I admit.
“But—” Morgan leads.
“But last night, after I walked out on my study session with James because Theo was being a jealous asshole, he came after me. We were in the archive room.”
“You mean . . .the lair?” Morgan teases. We all giggle, and for a short slice of time, we’re eighteen-year-old girls laughing about crushes and boys on a Friday night. Anika is with us. I feel it.
“Yes, the lair,” I laugh back. “And oh, my God, the way he kisses!”
“Has it gotten better from when he was eleven? Because he smashed his lips on mine once in the playground and it was like kissing a helium balloon,” Morgan says.
I didn’t know about that, but the amount of time they’ve known each other, and their family connections, it makes sense that there would have been a youthful crush between them. There’s a tinge of jealousy squeezing at my chest, too, but not enough to acknowledge.
“I’m gonna say he’s probably had a lot of practice since then. Because girls . . . his hands, and his mouth, and—” I fan myself and curl up in the back seat with embarrassment.
“Look at you, our Lily, all grown up,” Morgan says, tickling my knee with her long, glossy nails. “Girl, don’t be shy about that shit. You tamed the beast. You wear that shit with pride. Theo Rothschild doesn’t chase after anyone. But . . .” She taps her index fingernail at the hem of my skirt. “He chased you.”
My grin stretches and I let my hands uncover more of my face.
“He did, didn’t he?” Saying the words just now also forces me to accept it a little more. It still feels fleeting to an extent, and there’s a truly damaged part of my self-esteem that doesn’t feel worthy of being pursued by a guy like him.
“Yes, he did,” Brooklyn says. They look at one another and exchange a glance, almost as if they’ve been in on this secret all along. Maybe they have. I’m sure my attraction to him has been obvious in many ways, and maybe they’ve seen things from Theo that I’ve been blind to or haven’t been able to admit. I kind of think now that they’ve talked about us, maybe even nudged us toward one another in their own subtle ways.Doing Anika’s work.
Brooklyn latches her seat belt again and shifts gears, finally pulling us onto the roadway.
“So how does he compare to those Ohio boys back home?” Morgan asks, rolling her window down and holding her palm out to catch the wind.
I consider her question and think about every kiss I’ve had before Theo Rothschild, and the comparison simply makes me laugh. Fumbling hands, tangled bra straps, drool, and braces.
“I think you summed it up with that one word,” I say, meeting her gaze as she glances over her shoulder to me. “Boys.”
We both smile and nod.
* * *
I’ve been through three stores and two hours have passed. I’d like to say the time has flown by, but I really do hate shopping. I haven’t bought a thing yet, mostly because Brooklyn and Morgan want to get Theo’s take on their favorite picks. I tried to convince them that Theo couldn’t care less, but it’s more about them torturing him and seeing if he’ll break his icy character in front of them.
To be honest, I’m a little worried about how he’ll do on this test. I meant what I said when I refused to be some secret. And I’ve learned that it seems things with Theo can change on an hourly basis.
The guys are on their way to Ashwood Mall, so we decided to grab some food and wait for them at the food court. I remember seeing Anika with the two of them sitting in this very spot during my third and fourth forms. It’s nothing more than a large round table with some padded chairs—five to be exact. It always seemed as if this table were put here for their purposes. For their use only. Not that they were uninviting. The opposite. They were more on display, a destination point for other private school teens at the mall for the weekend. Popular cliques from other schools would stop by and it was like this meeting of the minds, or it seemed that way from an outsider’s point of view.
Now, being on the inside, though? I realize we’re simply sitting at a table, and we chose these seats because they’re comfortable. And Brooklyn and Morgan? They know a lot of people, and they’re friendly. I’ve met a dozen other girls who look and talk exactly like them in the twenty minutes we’ve been sitting here. Even stranger, I fit in.
“I talked to my coach today,” I say, figuring now that I’ve shared the news about Theo, my decision to compete in a couple weeks seems uninteresting. Brooklyn doesn’t take it that way, though, and literally spits out some of her drink before leaning across the table and putting her hand over mine.
“Lily, that’s incredible! You know we’ll come and support.” A visual of her and Morgan waving signs and cheering my name passes through my head and it both excites and mortifies me.
I swallow.
“I’m probably going to get my ass kicked.” I want to base their expectations in reality. I’ve made it across the pool a few times, and I’ve been winded. But it felt good to stretch my arms in the water and to push myself a little. I think if I spend the week conditioning, I won’t be a total embarrassment in the water.
“I doubt that, but we will scream just as loud regardless,” Morgan adds.
“Just as loud for what?” James’ voice startles all three of us and our heads spin to find him standing behind Morgan, his hands planted on the back of her chair.
“Lily is going to swim again. She talked to her coach!” Morgan turns in her seat so she’s sitting on her knees and facing James, and I watch him closely to see how he reacts. When he moves his hand to her shoulder for a friendly—maybe more than friendly—squeeze, I relax. He’s going to score more points flirting with her rather than me, probably with herandTheo.
