Bookishly Ever After (Ever After #1)(22)
“Making a cane cannon come to life will definitely be worth it.”
She arched her brows. “As your unofficial big sister—”
“By a month,” Alec said under his breath.
“I think you need to balance your gaming stuff with, you know, real life? And I don’t mean just hanging with the guys or us.”
Alec snorted and his eyes met mine. I rolled my eyes in sympathy.
Em didn’t even notice. “Look at how good things are going with Phoebe. I can totally do the same for you…”
I frowned over at Em. “Things are going good?” I tugged at my turtleneck for the millionth time, trying to breathe and wishing I’d stopped at home to change instead of coming straight to Alec’s house. I’d knit it out of incredibly soft bronze-y merino from the store’s remnant bin, but it always suffocated me. Grace had dug it out of my knits drawer and declared it a perfect fit and color, but apparently, perfect meant a size too small.
“Yes, like that adorable flirt-fest between the two of you the other day in English? Alec, you know Dev. He’s totally into Feebs, isn’t he?”
“Whoa.” He put his hand up in the “stop” position. “I’m Switzerland. I’m not getting involved. You already dragged Grace into whatever insane plan you have going on—don’t pull me into it, too.” They stared each other down and he added, “And no, I don’t want you to set me up with anyone, either.”
“Fine.” She crossed her arms and fake-pouted. “Keep cultivating your reclusive nerd aura in your goal to become the next Howard Hughes.”
Alec suppressed a smile as he deliberately grabbed a tissue and, in imitation of the famous recluse, used it as a barrier between his hand and her arm as he gave her a shove. “Working on it. The only thing I need now is a couple million dollars.”
I let out a snort, which set off Em’s stifled laughter. She looked from him to me and shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with the two of you.”
“Why do you have to do anything with us?” I asked.
She leaned into Alec and reached over him to squeeze my arm. “Because you’re both so stinkingly talented and awesome and fun and I want the rest of the world to see that.”
Alec narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m not sure how getting set up by you does that.”
“It’s a good first step.” She looked from me to Alec. “Trust me.”
Alec stuffed the tissue between her arm and his in one last Howard Hughes imitation. “Pass.”
She twisted her lips and shoved Alec so we were in a big heap on my side of the couch. “Good thing I love you both enough to ignore your wishes and do what’s best for you, anyway. You’re lucky I’m so selfless.”
Alec and I shared a glance over Em and he rolled his eyes while I held back another laugh.
I practically danced off the bus. My handknit Maeveinspired shawl wrapped me in cozy, sparkly, merino silk goodness. One of the few seniors who still rode the bus had dropped into the seat opposite me and fawned over it the entire ride. And it was a perfect shawl day—foggy, autumn-y, and breezy. Just like the day Maeve first entered the Otherland.
Today was one of those days when everything seemed to come together, like I had woken up in a Disney movie. It wasn’t going to last, but I basked in it while I could. And
I had to fight to keep from skipping down the hall to my locker with my shawl swirling around me, or running while singing out to the hill behind the football field like Belle in Beauty and the Beast.
Grace stood at her locker and I whacked her with the edge of my shawl as I passed. She looked up and watched me with an unreadable expression as I twirled the combo and opened my locker.
“Please don’t tell me you’re planning to wear that today.”
Okay. Not that unreadable. “Yes, I am.” I gripped the locker door until the metal cut into my palm. Buh-bye Disney movie mood. “I wore skinny jeans today. I haven’t worn anything comfortable for almost a week. I took an hour this morning to curl my hair. I’m wearing eyeliner, for frak’s sake. Let me have my wool.” My patience had suddenly worn as thin as lace weight mohair.
Grace blinked, taking a step back. “Moody much? God, if it means that much to you, keep the damn thing. I quit as your stylist.”
Someone stepped between us and I backed up a bit to see Grace. “Oh, come on. I read Teen Vogue. Knitwear is all over the runways.”
“Quit. As. Stylist.” Grace said, but then closed her locker and walked over to tug at my shawl. “Fine. One day a week, you get a pass to dress like my grandmom. But Monday, I’m bringing an eyelash curler.” Before I could protest, she waved and headed for her homeroom. “Later.”
I stuck my tongue out at her, but quickly hid behind my locker door when Kris turned down into the hallway. My face grew warm and I resisted the urge to press it against the cool metal. “Crud, crud, crud,” I said under my breath.
“Hey Phoebe,” Kris called out as he passed, but I didn’t turn around, hoping he hadn’t seen the tongue thing. Of course. The one morning he actually noticed me was the morning I acted like a two year old.
As soon as I thought I was safe, I peeked around my locker door to watch him. His hair was getting longish, curling in dark waves above the collar of his jacket just like Aedan’s would. I caught his profile as he turned to walk into his homeroom and caught the hint of a smile as one of his friends said, “Man, I don’t know what happened, but she got hotter.” Right before they disappeared through the door.