Bookishly Ever After (Ever After #1)(83)

“You’re absolutely radiant, darling,” Dev said in a mock British accent before a mini pickle-fight between two of the boys in his cabin had him running to the far end of the table.

I looked at my campers, who had been watching the conversation between Dev and me like it was a tennis match. “I’m so glad I got you guys and not them. At least when you drive me crazy, it doesn’t involve food or fire.”

Diana smiled over her glass of bug juice. “It’s because girls are just so much more sophisticated.”

Bethany Two poked me to get my attention. “Phoebe, I peeked at your copy of Cradled on the Waves and we’re finally on the same part.”

At the moment, I wanted to forget the book that was making me so dramatic and making me feel all the screwedup feels as Kaylie and Evan’s conflict and relationship built up in it. But I schooled my expression into a curious one.

“Really? What do you think so far?”

Bethany Two dropped her chin into her hands. “I think Kaylie needs to stay on PEI with Evan. Maybe forever, if she becomes a permanent foreign exchange student.”

“But she doesn’t even know how Evan feels. He could just be acting like one of those stereotypical über-helpful and polite Canadian farmboys, eh?” The “eh” sounded weird. Maybe I was too South Jersey to “eh” properly.

She shook her head emphatically. “Oh, come on. The way they talked during the performance at the Indian River Festival? No way, he’s totally into her. And the way he pushed back that loose strand of her hair at the bridge? That was H. O. T. Hot.” Pulling one hand out from under her chin, she fanned herself.

I smiled at her drama. This was my kind of camper. “The hair was in her face. He probably talks like that to every girl on the island.”

“So, you really think she’s right about wanting go to New York?” She paused and tilted her head. “I mean, we both know she’s not going for the music program, because it’s pretty obvious that working at the ceilidh and practicing with Evan is making her a better violinist, even if she doesn’t know it.” Her tongue tripped over ceilidh, pronouncing it “see-le-deh.”

“It’s kay-lee, like her name,” I pointed out. “I think she has no idea how she feels and doesn’t want to get played by anyone. Even someone who probably doesn’t realize he’s playing her,” I said softly, willing myself not to look at Dev.

“No way. Evan’s too nice to play anyone.”

“I think she should stay wherever she is and give this guy a chance,” Dev said, dropping a handful of confiscated pickle slices onto his place as he sat down again.

I looked up sharply, wondered how much he heard, and hoped he didn’t think I was projecting or anything. “You have no idea what we’re talking about, do you?”

“Potato farmer book?”

“Ugh.” He really had a memory like an elephant. “You should be on my side, then. You were the one who said Bollywood backup dancer beat potato farmer.” I made little air-quotes as I spoke.

Dev’s eyes met mine. “What’s this girl afraid of, anyway?”

I didn’t break his gaze. “Letting herself fall for him completely and then getting her heart and ego crushed.” That came out softer than I had planned.

He let out a frustrated sound. “So, you’d rather have her throw away any chance with this guy because of the tiniest chance she could be reading him wrong?”

“No, she—” Bethany Two tried to break in, but failed.

“If the guy was more transparent and didn’t keep leaving her wondering how he felt, she wouldn’t be in this situation at all,” I said.

Bethany Two tugged at my sleeve, but I brushed her hand away.

His mouth set in a straight line at the challenge. “Maybe she’s just too dense to see the signs he keeps throwing at her.”

“Maybe putting herself out there is too much to ask for just a few signs,” I shot back.

“I bet potato farmer guy has put himself out there a few times and this girl just blew him off like this hot-and-cold bookworm ice princess.”

“She’s a violinist, not a bookworm, and—”

“Guys? Guys!” Bethany Two’s raised voice made us both turn our heads to face her, and that’s when I realized that Dev and I were standing and practically nose-to-nose over the table. “It’s just a book, you know.”

Holy heavens above, half of the mess hall was watching us. Waves of embarrassment washed over me. “It’s never just a book,” I said under my breath as I sat down again.

“And, anyway, you’re both getting the plot wrong. Evan and Kaylie aren’t like that.”

I surreptitiously looked up at Dev, who was busy twisting and untwisting his napkin. His lips relaxed from that straight line as he checked his watch. “Okay, guys, five minutes ‘til the end of lunch. Anyone in the mood to rile up the other teams?”

Our entire table let off a chorus of “yeah”s and yeses except for Bethany Two and some of the other girls from my cabin, who were all watching me with matching smirks. The team cheer was some silly thing Dev had created that the kids loved to yell randomly throughout the day. Other teams tried to match it, resulting in a lot of off-key chanting through all of the activities. Usually, he used it to break up any arguments that might happen between the campers, but this time, he seemed to want to break the intense tension between us that hung in the air like the energy of a pending thunderstorm.