She lets her books drop onto her desk with a slam and turns sharply to face me. “Why won’t you just admit it?”
“Admit what?”
“Oh please, Betts.” She gives me a smug eye-roll. “This is me you’re talking to. I know what this is all about.”
“What?”
“Leo.”
Of course she’d think that. It’s always about a guy. Liv wants to believe what she wants to believe. To her, my whole identity crisis can be boiled down to a simple black-and-white choice between two men.
“It’s not about Leo.”
Another eye-roll, this time with a snort. “Please. Like you’re not going out with him now.”
“I’m not.” Not technically. But if I tell her what happened between Leo and me the other night, she would take it as proof that she’s right.
I steel myself and muster up some patience. I know that the new things I’m doing—and especially my new friends—are radical compared to what she’s used to. She needs time, not arguments andlectures. I have to prove to her that no matter what my other interests are, she’ll still be my best friend.
I force a smile as I stand and stretch. “Are you hungry?”
“Hungry?”
“Yeah, hungry. Like, as in needing to eat food.” I mimic gnawing on a burger.
She begrudges me a laugh. “I guess so.”
“Then come on. Let’s go get some dinner.”
“Fine.” She rises and grabs her coat. “But we’re not done talking about this.”
“We can talk about it whenever you want.”
We both snatch our keys off our desks and head for the dining hall. There we eat chewy, stale corn chips with our burrito bowls and talk about everything but Leo and the Clairs.
It’s not until the next morning, as we’re getting ready for classes, that she apologizes. “Sorry I flipped out on you yesterday. This is all so weird though, you know? You’ve never been into witch stuff or anything like that. And Leo, I mean sure he’s hot, but how much do you really know about him? It just seems like he came out of nowhere.”
I laugh. It does seem like Leo just appeared out of the ether. “Actually, I met him at an O-Chi party.”
“I know, but still. I mean, do you even know his last name?”
“Yes. It’s Hawthorn.” So there. I stick my tongue out at her.
“Okay, fine.” She shoots me a raspberry back. “But I’m still gonna worry about you.”
I give her a quick hug. “I’m fine.”
I can’t fault her for worrying. I’ve spent months fretting over her—about Braden, her grades, sororities, and now this Sweetheart thing. Seems we’re both in over our heads, and neither of us wants to be rescued.
CHAPTER THIRTY
By the timeI arrive at the Bobcat on Tuesday afternoon, my nerves are frayed. Are Leo and I a couple now? Has he told Avery and Aaron what happened? Because I sure as hell haven’t. How can I tell anyone when I don’t know what’s going on myself? Leo’s texts have been business as usual, but our messages were always a bit intimate, even before Friday night. And yes, I’ve analyzed every word of them, like I have Chaucer, Shakespeare, and Dickens. There are no clues about our status.
Once he has his latte, he joins me on our usual couch by the fireplace, sitting close enough that his knee touches mine. As Aaron and Avery empty sugar packets into their coffee, he seizes the private moment to smile at me. For some weird reason, I can’t feel any emotions coming off him, but his eyes convey his pleasure at seeing me. And his desire to keep what happened a secret.
I stifle a sigh. No playing with the hair that flips up under his ears, no slipping my hand in his, and definitely no crawling onto his lap and kissing him until neither of us can breathe. Hot and restless, I squirm beside him, unable to get comfortable or to hide my flushed cheeks. Leo isn’t much better at playing it cool. He’s talking andsipping his coffee as usual, but he’s fidgety and distracted. Maybe because of me, or maybe because of all the weird looks Avery keeps shooting him.
Our meeting on Thursday is even more awkward. The four of us talk about classes, spring break plans, even the weather, for god’s sake. It’s like those stiff five-minute chats at the sorority houses all over again. Part of me wants to just blurt, “Fine, Leo and I made out the other night. There. Now can we just move on?”
