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"Is he into the smart girl thing?"

"I don't know."

"No? He hasn't brought anyone around?"

"No, uh. I think if he was seeing someone, he'd do it somewhere else, since Zelda was always here."

Dare nods makes sense. There's something else in his expression, something I can't place, but I don't linger on it.

I find my makeup bag in my suitcase. Pick a lipstick that falls halfway between neutral and fuck-me red. "You promise we'll do the water first thing?"

He offers his pinkie. "It's here when you're ready."

"Are you really going to flirt with Archie?"

"No. You're going to flirt with Archie. I'm going to help."

"How?"

"You'll see."

Chapter Fifteen

VAL

After I perfect my makeup, we meet Archie in the main room. He studies us carefully—not me, us—but I can't quite figure out why. It might be jealousy. It might be a desire to taste my lipstick. It might be a desire to taste Dare's skin.

Who knows?

Archie has never really given any indications of interest in men, but he's pretty uptight, so it's not like he's talking sex twenty-four seven.

He doesn't even blink when the Spanish students make fun of British people for being prudes—and Americans for being loud, Dutch people for being blunt, French people for not showering often enough… it's not the most clever humor.

"Ready?" Dare shoots Archie a friendly smile. Only it's not just friendly. There's something else in it. Some masculine comparison.

Probably.

My best friend is right. I'm really bad at this. I was bad at this before The Incident. Now, I'm even worse.

"You two sure you're awake enough to go out?" Archie asks.

After we nod, Archie leads us outside.

Our street isn't completely swarmed, but it's busy. Too busy to dive into any sort of deep conversation, but Dare still makes an effort to ask Archie the usual getting to know you questions.

The city looks different with Dare by my side. Or maybe it's the time at home. Has the street always been this packed with tourists? Why didn't I notice we're three blocks from the shopping capital of Barcelona? Well, it's not that I didn't notice. I just didn't really think about it.

It's easy enough to avoid the row of shops (and more tourists), but for some reason, Archie is leading us past it.

I guess I never walk anywhere with Archie. Only the subway, really, on the way to or from school. I don't know where he goes or what he does when he leaves the apartment.

I hang close to Dare as the guys talk. It's nothing too interesting, Archie's thoughts on medical specialty, where he grew up, how he likes Barcelona compared to his hometown a few hours out of London, how he's excited to be in London for med school, but Dare keeps the conversation flowing.

The fifteen-minute walk passes in a blink. Sunset, warm air, the proximity of the one guy I trust.

I feel so much safer with him here.

I didn't even realize I could feel this safe.

Is there any way I can beg him to move to Orange County with me? Into the no-doubt tiny apartment I'll share with at least one other student as I attend grad school at UCI.

Irvine is only an hour from Santa Monica without traffic, but then how often are we without traffic?

It's practically an hour from Dare's place to his dad's house, and he still visits when I'm home. It doesn't have to feel different.

But it will.

Archie pulls the door open.

Dare nudges me.

Right. I'm not here to mourn the changes in my relationship with my best friend. I'm here to flirt with my future fling.

Only, right now, the idea is totally unappealing.

It's late. I'm exhausted. Flirting takes a ton of energy. But I don't have to kill it. I just have to try. I smile and step through the door. "Thanks."

Archie holds it open for Dare too.

I signal the server and ask for a table for three. She eyes us with curiosity, not sure whether we're a trio of friends, a couple meeting a sibling, a study group, a possible threesome, but she doesn't say anything. She leads us to a seat and drops off menus.

I ask for tap water and thank her.

"Has she always taken to Spanish easily?" Archie asks.

"Her parents were fluent," Dare says.

"Dad didn't want Mom to speak too much Spanish. He thought I'd get confused. But she didn't really listen." I still feel her love when I hear declarations in Spanish. That's Mom telling me she loves me. That's Mom holding me close, asserting her role as my guardian. That's Mom, period.

"Was that really why?" Dare asks.

"It's what he said." I smooth my jeans, try to keep myself halfway between the guys. We're at a round table, but for some reason, I'm a little closer to Dare. For some reason, I don't want to scoot closer to Archie. "But I think he was jealous of her skill."

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