Rose hums. “I don’t know, Pops. Should we trust him?”
I sit up straighter at that comment. What did I do to merit that?
She flicks her gaze to me. “I have it on good authority that you’re partially to blame for thedisgusting‘juice’”—she makes air quotes around the word—“I was subject to this afternoon.”
Oh.
Mia works quickly.
I tug my lips into my mouth to keep my face straight.
“And I meandisgusting.” Rose angles her head toward Poppy. “You know I try not to consume too much sugar, so I was only accepting the drink from Mia to be nice, to try to seem accommodating.” Rose gags. “The joke was on me. It was macaroni-and-cheese powder dissolved in water. I meanhonestly.”
I snort but play it off like a cough.
“I’d take cheese juice over an exploding toilet,” Poppy declares with a serious inflection to her usually upbeat tone.
I cough louder.
“Scared the you-know-what right out of me.”
The two sisters pin me with identical glares. Looking at them like this, it’s easy to see their similarities—the shape of their noses, the long eyelashes, and the crease of annoyance in their foreheads. But I can also point out their differences. Poppy’s hair is lighter brown—more golden-bronze than Rose’s dark, coppery-black hue. Poppy’s hair is in its usual ponytail. I’ve yet to see her with it down…unless you count Friday morning when she was stranded outside post-shower. Rose’s hair is cut to her chin. It’s longer along her jawline than it is at the nape of her neck.
Their eyes are different too. Yes, they’re both looking at me like they’re ready to fight—playfully, I hope. But Poppy’s eyes are a pale blue that reminds me of the color of the sky in the spring. Rose’s eyes are like sapphires. Deep and moody.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself, Big?”
At Poppy’s use of my nickname, I let loose a slight grin, but then I shrug. “I thought Holland would have warned you.”
“He did. But not until it was too late.”
“Cheese powder, Mack. I drank freaking cheese powder because of you.” Rose throws up her hands. “Do you know how long that stuff will sit in my gut? It’s got a shelf life of, like, five years.” She pretends to wretch.
“I’ll never pee in peace again.” Poppy bows her head, as if she’s taking a moment to mourn the death of her previous bathroom-going self.
I clear my throat. “You’re being dramatic.”
Poppy narrows her sky-blue eyes at me, tipping up her chin. “Have you ever sat on an exploding toilet?”
“Or drank cheese juice?” Rose adds.
I open my mouth, but I don’t have a response to that.
Poppy crosses her arms. “Exactly.”
“Watch your back, dude. We don’t roll over very easily.” Rose drags her thumb across her neck in the universal sign for decapitating.
I cock my head. “Are you threatening me, Junior Kasper?”
Rose crinkles her nose. “Junior Kasper?”
“I can call you Little Boo, if you’d prefer.”
Rose snorts. “No.”
I find myself relaxing in my seat. I like these women—the way they banter with each other. The feisty way they talk back to me.
“You’ve been warned. That’s all we’re saying.” Poppy sets her menu down. “You’ll never see our prank coming.”
