Bookishly Ever After (Ever After #1)(41)

“Good timing,” she mouthed at me, handing me my things. After I had settled, I looked up to watch as the clarinets filled in their spots. Dev started putting down his sheet music and paused, staring at his music stand.

I held my breath as he picked up the socks and studied them, reading the tag with a quizzical look on his face. Then, he started laughing and his eyes raised up to meet mine. I tried to appear cool and composed as my heart went completely arrhythmic and my neck felt like it was bursting into flames, but a wide smile snuck through, anyway. The socks weren’t a clover, but it looked like they were good enough.

As we were making our way out afterwards, I felt a tug on one of my curls. “These are awesome. I think you made the wrong size, but I’ll deal.” Dev jogged up next to me, a mini sock on each pointer finger and his clarinet and sheet music under his arm.

I forced an indignant expression on my face as I slicked my hair back into place, but knew I failed miserably. Probably even verging on goofy-grin territory. “You never said they had to fit.”

“Thank you, anyway.”

I mocked a little midstep curtsy. “You’re welcome.” Emboldened, I poked at the heel of one of the socks. “Now that you have those, no more teasing me about socks, right?”

In the dim lights backstage, his eyes reflected back a brighter shade of green than usual. “Nope. I think you need to make me a sweater next.”

Maeve would keep up the witty repartee, and I tried to make my response lightning-fast. “Get in line, sock-boy.” At his laugh, I knew that worked.

Dev walked a little slower down the hallway, bumping his arm against mine every now and then, just enough that my arm was constantly tingling. I could have avoided him by walking closer to Em, but I didn’t. And he kept veering close. “I have to take my history and physics midterms tomorrow morning, so I have to go study, but are you coming with us to Marrano’s after the concert tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Dev grabbed at my hands and turned to face me. “C’mon, I need someone to keep me company with all of these band geeks.” I was frozen in shock and I guess he took it as indecision because he gave me a pleading look. “I’ll cover your milkshake? It’s my last chance to hang out before I fly halfway across the world.”

I finally shook awake and forced a wan smile. “Sure. I’ll try.”

“Good.” He dropped my hands and started walking backwards. “Gotta go study.”

“Kick some midterm butt,” I called after him, then covered my mouth and turned to Em. “That was a little loud, wasn’t it?”

“That was unbelievably awesome. And lame at the same time.” Em pulled me aside. “When a guy you obviously like asks you to hang out, you don’t say ‘maybe.’ Sometimes, I swear, you’re like Sandra Dee on steroids.”

“Ooohh, a Grease reference. Now I’m really worried.”

Em shook her head in an ‘I love you but I can barely tolerate you’ way. “Let’s work on dropping some of those super holy virgin habits of yours before tomorrow night, okay?”

“Em! Oh my God.”I looked around, hoping no one heard that.

“Calling it like it is. You need a lot of work.”





24


“Someone’s happy.”

Mom’s voice broke my reverie and I stopped my offkey humming. I pulled my headphones out of my ears and looked up to find her standing in the doorway to my room with an amused expression. “How embarrassed should I be right now?”

“I think I saw that last bit where you waltzed with your yarn.” Mom walked in and dropped into my desk chair, laying her book on my giant to be read pile. “At least, it looked like waltzing.”

I sat on my bed, grabbing a set of needles and starting to cast-on. “Life is really good,” I said, not even caring if I sounded incredibly goofy. “Like, burst-into-song, movie musical good.”

“That’s…” Mom broke into a smile that made her look so much younger and a lot like Trixie. “… good.” She nudged the basket of knit gifts with her foot. “Even with your Sisyphusian knit task?”

“Yup.” I wasn’t one of those girls who told their moms everything. But today the words just tumbled out of my mouth as I knit. “There’s this guy in band…”

Mom leaned forward so fast, her knee smacked against the basket. She reached out to steady it before it could fall over. “Band?”

I was so glad I had my knitting to look at. I didn’t think Mom would appreciate the eye roll that almost snuck out. “Marching and concert. Rock band guys are more Trixie’s type.”

“Oh, good. Go on.”

“He’s just really nice, is all.” And cute, and funny. But I didn’t bother adding those.

Mom hesitated, flipping through the new dystopian on my desk before saying in a measured tone, “You’ve made a lot of commitments, including passing your midterms and your job. I don’t want to make it sound like I don’t want you to date, which I don’t, by the way, but do you even have time for this boy?”

I closed my eyes. My needles still clicked away. I’d made so many of these hats, I could knit them in my sleep. “Even if we were dating, which we’re not, he’s going halfway across the world until New Year’s. I don’t think I need to worry about distractions, Mom.”