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“Me, too.” She offers her hand.
I shake, even though I don’t believe her.
“Now…where is it you’re going tonight? And who are you going to do there?”
“If I say I need the room, will you clear the house?” I ask.
She cuts another slice of cheese and plops it in her mouth. “You know the answer to that.”
Of course she will. Fern and North, too, probably. “I won’t.”
“I can leave anyway.”
“No. I want to wait,” I say.
“You want to torture the poor girl?”
Of course she sees this as some sort of slow-burn torture. “I’ve been home two days.”
“Exactly, torture,” she says.
“Or I make it to three.”
It’s a good goal. Three days.
I’m not sure I’m going to accomplish it.
But it’s a good goal, nonetheless.
Chapter Twenty-Four
River
Sips Don’t Lie is the hippest place in the city to our south. Of course, we’re still in Orange County, so that isn’t saying much.
The decor screams of suburban kids trying to stake their claim as independent artists. Dark paint, framed records, bare light bulbs hanging from the ceiling. The kind that went out of style a few years ago.
The people fit into the place, too. Twentysomethings in a mix of designer gear and modern basics. The crowd is young, the dance floor is full, the vibe is a strange mix of Lexi and Deanna.
Pretty and popular and offbeat and thoughtful, all at once.
Plus, the jazz-inspired pop music.
The bright pink fabric of Deanna’s dress catches my eye right away. She’s standing around a table in the back, chatting with a tall, dark-haired guy in slacks and a tie.
Lexi and my sisters are there, too. North stands out the way I do. The way Deanna does. She’s too cool for a place like this, and it shows in her stylish mix of high-top sneakers and a dress from an independent designer. Fern fits in better. She’s in a black dress and heels. A normal “going out” outfit.
And, of course, Lexi is in a soft shade of pink, blonde hair in long waves, makeup soft and feminine.
She’s beautiful. As beautiful as she always is. And she’s bright, too.
But I don’t want her light right now.
I want Deanna.
It feels real. More real than anything.
But it’s happening so fast. It’s hard to trust.
