sophomore year. I spent my junior year…away, and most of the friends had forgotten me or moved on when I returned.”
“How is that possible? Who could forget you?”
“A lot of people, apparently.”
“Just because you spent a year in London?” I smiled. “That’s why Prince Charles appeals to you.”
“Ennis? No, not really. He was the first person to speak to me when I went down to the lounge party that first night.”
“He’s also the one who got you drunk.”
“He didn’t get me drunk, Brad. He didn’t pour the drink down my throat. I did that.”
Her self-awareness was refreshing. She didn’t try to blame anyone else for her own mistake. I liked that. “He should have warned you about the Everclear.”
“He probably didn’t know. He’s been nothing but kind to me.”
“You don’t think he’s interested in you?”
She blushed. “I didn’t say that.”
Jealousy spiked in my gut. “I knew it.”
“Relax. I told him I wasn’t interested in him romantically.”
“And what about your first nighter date?”
“I’m definitely not interested in him romantically. He seemed nice at first, and I think he is, but he’s really immature.”
“Most freshman guys are,” I said.
“Were you?”
“I’d seen a lot more by the time I went to college than most guys have.”
“What had you seen?”
“Nice pivot. We’re talking about you now.”
“Why do we have to talk about me?”
“Because I know so little about you. Tell me about your year in London.”
She looked down at her soft drink and swirled it in the glass. “I stayed with a distant relative. I didn’t get into the heart of London very often.”
“Where did you go to school?”
“She’s an educator. She schooled me at home.”
I widened my eyes. “Really? Wouldn’t going to London be more beneficial if you went to school with British people and learned the culture and stuff?”
“I don’t know.” She still stared at the brown liquid in her glass. “My parents set it all up. I don’t really like to talk about it.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Do you like to talk about your high school days?”
Point and match. No, I didn’t. I took a sip of my coffee. “Tell me something else about yourself, then.”
“What do you want to know?”
“I don’t know. What’s your favorite color?”
“Yellow.”
“Really? Not pink or red or blue?” Was yellow really anyone’s favorite color?
“No, yellow. It’s the color of the sun. Of brightness. Of happiness. It chases the dark away.”
Chases the dark away? That was deep. What was going on inside Daphne’s head? I wasn’t sure how to respond.
“How about yours?” she asked.
“Brown,” I said without hesitation.
“Really?” She smiled. “Not red or blue?”
“Nope. Brown. My first dog, Misty, was brown. My horse is brown.”
“You have a horse?”
“I do. Do you ride?”
She laughed. “I’m from the suburbs. When would I have learned to ride?”
“London maybe?” I grinned.
“Still not going there. What’s your horse’s name?”
“Sebastian. Next time you visit the ranch, I’ll introduce you. Take you on a ride if you want.”
“With you?”
“Not on the same horse as me.”
“Why not? People do it all the time on TV. In movies.”
I laughed. “That’s not reality. There’s a limit to how much weight a healthy horse can handle.”
“Are you saying I weigh a lot?”
“Of course not. I’m saying I weigh a lot. My weight plus the saddle is quite a bit. But we have a great mare you can ride. She’s really gentle.”
Daphne took a sip of her drink. “I’d love to meet Sebastian and the mare. What’s her name?”
“The one I was thinking about for you is Daisy. She’s technically my mom’s horse, but my mom doesn’t ride much anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Just lost interest, I guess.”
“Does your dad ride?”
“Oh, yeah. He’s the one who taught me.”
“Your dad seems nice.”
“He can be.” I really didn’t want to talk about my father. “Tell me about your parents.”
“My dad is a highway engineer for the state. My mom stays home now. She used to be a teacher.”
“Oh? Why did she quit?”
“To stay home with me.”
“That must have been nice for you.”
“She only quit two years ago.”
“To stay home with you? But if you were gone that first year, why didn’t she keep working?”
Daphne’s rosy cheeks went pale.
I’d hit a nerve.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Daphne
Uh-oh.
I truly hated lying, and this was why. A lie wasn’t just a lie. Soon you had to tell other lies to cover up for the initial lie, and if you forgot to, you’d get caught in the lie.
I should have been truthful with Brad and told him I’d been hospitalized for most of my junior year of high school.
But I couldn’t. He’d run