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“Well, yes.” A crinkle appears between her brows. “Besides, you just proved I was right.”
“That’s not the point.” Seriously, this girl. “What if I needed help, and you just walked away from me?”
Henry stops at the sidewalk, and Penelope uses this moment to turn toward me. Today she’s wearing makeup, her eyes somehow look bigger and rounder her lips are a deeper shade of pink. My throat goes dry at the sight of her, my gaze falling down to that full mouth.
“Did you?”
I clear my throat, but still, the words come out raspy. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”
“Really?” She seems so surprised that I have a sudden urge to laugh.
“Yes, really. That chick from our class was yelling my name halfway across campus. I was worried people would start to stare, and that’s the last thing I need right now.”
“What girl?”
I waved my hand impatiently, still not sure what her name was. “The flower one.”
“The flo— Lilian?”
I snap my fingers. “That’s the one. That girl can talk. I’ll give her that. I barely managed to slip away from her.”
Penelope shakes her head as that frown between her brows deepens. “Saving you from yourfansdoesn’t count.” She looks away, shifting her attention to the road. “Henry, forward.”
Saving me from my fans?
They continue moving, and it takes me a moment to snap out of it and follow after her.
“Why are you angry?”
“I’m not angry,” she says evenly, her tone reminding me of Seraphina and her “non-angry” voice, which is most definitely angry.
“You sure sound upset.”
“What I am is exasperated.” She turns around so quickly, her finger finding the middle of my chest quite accurately, for a girl who doesn’t see, as she gives me a pointed jab. “I thought you really might have needed help, but instead, you wanted me to intervene between you and yourfans?”
By the way she says fans, you’d think she’s talking about cockroaches. Although I have an inkling that this might not have anything to do with my fans, but this specific fan.
“Not intervene, just…” I rub the back of my neck, trying to come up with the right way to explain it. “Give me a hand, I guess?”
“I don’t really see the difference,” she mutters.
“I’m not really advertising that I’m here, and she was being loud.”
Birdy presses her lips together. “That’s Lilian for you.”
So it’s definitely a flower-girl problem.
“What’s your deal with her anyway?”
“No deal,” Birdy says quickly.
Too quickly.
I’m not buying it for a second. Birdy didn’t seem like a mean girl or like somebody who could hold a grudge for a long time. Then again, I didn’t forget the way that Lilian-chick talked to Penelope the other day, so flippant about her blindness. And yes, I might have been the primary cause of her distress that day, but she was also upset about Lilian.
Like she is now.
“At least she knows my music,” I bite out. It’s probably an asshole thing to do, but I can’t help myself.
