I manage a strangled, “Okay.”
There’s a strange wheezing sound coming from Mom. I think she’s hyperventilating.
Avery takes her phone out again and hands it to me. “Put your info in there.”
I type, doing my best to ignore the way my parents’ shocked stares are scalding the side of my head.
“I’ve been trying to get your number from Leo for days,” Avery tells me. “But he’s gone MIA.”
MIA? So I’m not the only one he hasn’t talked to. I recall what he told me at the party.I can’t stay. I have to help Robin with something.Who exactly is this Robin and is she the one monopolizing all his time?
“Have you ever met her?” I ask Avery.
“No. Have you?”
I shake my head and hand her back her phone. I want to know more and I want to ask after Aaron, but my throat isn’t letting out any words.
Hey!” Her eyes drop to my chest. “Leo gave you the amethyst!”
My muscles seize and heat rushes from my neck to my hairline.
Avery’s eyes dart to my parents then back to me, her lips quirking. “We’ll talk later,” she says, sotto voce. To Mom and Dad shegives a wave and a loud “Nice to meet you!” as she spins and heads toward the library.
I get the feeling it’s her way of flipping them off.
The moment she’s out of earshot, Mom rounds on me. “Who on earth wasthat?”
“Uh, Avery Bauer. A friend of a friend.” Lamely, I add, “I guess.”
I’m such a wuss.
“What sorority is she in?” It’s beyond Mom’s comprehension that some people never go Greek.
“She’s a GDI.”
Dad looks puzzled. “Gamma Delta Iota? Never heard of it.”
Mom rolls her eyes. “GDI, Derek. It means God Damned Independent.” Dad was your quintessential frat boy in college and still keeps in touch with some of his brothers. He knows what GDI means, he’s just forgotten.
We don’t talk as we make our way into the student center. Mom’s loading up the heavy artillery, her mouth a flat line of disapproval as we order food from the soup, salad, and sandwich station, then find a place to sit by the windows.
I’m not even in my chair before she clunks her tray on the table and blurts, “Who is Leo?”
“Um.” I sit and force myself to meet her eyes. “Another friend.”
“Why did he give you that necklace?”
I shove a forkful of salad in my mouth, even though I’ve lost my appetite. I can’t answer her honestly without bringing up subjects I don’t want to discuss. Protection magick? Please. My parents would think I’m on drugs.
Dad swallows a bite of his Reuben. “There’s only one reason a man gives a woman jewelry, sweetheart.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Of course it is,” Mom asserts. “Don’t be so naïve.”
“Does he know you have a boyfriend?” Dad asks.
“Yes.” This conversation is on a crash course and I seriously needto turn off. There’s no way I’m going to tell my parents about last weekend’s fight.
