Next Man Up (Making the Score #2) - Tawdra Kandle Page 0,112

government money for farmers who are committed to raising their crops more sustainably.”

“It’s an amazing job, and she’s not selling out. Don’t listen to her.” Quinn shook her head. “She just says that because she always thought she was going to end up living on a commune raising organic food with hippie farmers.”

“Are there still hippie farmers out there anywhere?” Leo grinned. “I thought they disappeared after Woodstock.”

“If there are, Zelda would find them.” I spoke up without thinking about it, staring at her. I knew that the arch tone and her snarky remark about selling out were both aimed at me, hitting back for what I’d said that fucked-up night before she’d left. Holding her gaze, my eyes steady on her face, I added, “But what she’s doing now is helping even more farmers. Just because something pays well doesn’t mean it’s selling out.”

“I think that’s the actual definition of the term, but whatever, right? It lets me have a bitchin’ apartment in the city.” Her voice was brittle.

“I wouldn’t know about that. I haven’t been invited to see it.” I tossed that back at her.

Zelda opened her mouth as if to toss back an answer, but before she could, an older couple—Nate’s great aunt and uncle, I thought—came in to say goodbye to Quinn. After they’d shuffled out of the den, Zelda glanced at Gia.

“It seems like everyone is getting ready to leave. Maybe we should go, too.”

Quinn bit her lip. “You know, this is the worst part for me, I think. All this time, I thought, well, when we say goodbye to Nate, when he’s aware for the last time, that’ll be hard. When he actually dies. When they come to take his body away. When I have to sit through his funeral. And all of those were pretty horrible.” She looked around the room. “This has been the best part, being with all of you. And everyone leaving is the worst part, because it means I have to start living again. And I have to figure out how to do that.” She sounded woebegone and lost. Next to her, Leo’s face was bleak.

Zelda rose to her feet and moved to the sofa, sitting on the arm and leaning down to wrap Quinn in a hug. “Doll. You’re not going to be alone. How about I come stay at your house tonight?” She shot Gia a meaningful look. “You come too, G. We’ll have a slumber party, just like old times. I’ll buy us a couple of bottles of wine, we’ll watch some sappy movies, and we’ll order pizza.”

“Are Leo and I invited to this slumber party?” I asked the question already knowing the answer.

“Nope. Girls only. No boys allowed.” For the first time, Zelda looked straight at me. “You have cooties, and you’re mean.”

“Mean, huh?” I murmured. Well, maybe we were getting somewhere now. Maybe I was seeing a crack in her armor. Without looking away from Zelda, I spoke to Leo. “Taylor, how do you feel about playing wingman to a guy on two wheels? We could hit some bars and drink a toast or two to Nate. Maybe eat some wings and pizza.”

Leo hesitated, and I caught him glancing toward Quinn, who wasn’t looking back.

Zelda, however, was. Her eyes flashed at me, and she raised her chin.

“Trolling for chicks, Eli?” Her tone was cold and slightly bitter, but I heard the undertone of hurt, and that was what I answered.

“No, Zelda.” I smiled at her, hoping she saw the olive branch I was trying to offer. “No women. Just a boys’ night out, in memory of Nate. Leo and I miss him, too, you know.”

Zelda’s face relaxed, and she nodded. “Have a good time.”

The others began to stand up and prepared to leave. As Zelda passed me, I caught her wrist. “Zelda. Can we talk for just a minute, please?”

She paused. “Do you really think now is a good time to do this, Eli? Here?”

“I didn’t say I want to do anything. I just want to talk to you.”

She fastened her eyes somewhere above my shoulder. There was something uneasily familiar about the way she stood, her coolness toward me, her sharp words . . . for a moment, I couldn’t place the sense of déjà vu and then I knew it. The Zelda standing next to me now was the same distant and angry woman I’d met during our first week at Birch. And fuck it all, I was back in the same