We Don't Talk Anymore (The Don't Duet #1) - Julie Johnson Page 0,44

reasonable hour, even — Scout’s honor.”

I blink, startled. I may be socially stunted, but even I know that in teenage-boy-speak, attending a party together is a big deal. A prelude to an actual date. Foreplay to the foreplay.

“You’re killing me with these long silences, Valentine,” Ryan says, his blue eyes dropping to his feet. “Don’t tell me that means you’re preparing to say no…”

“I’m sorry, Ryan, but I —”

“She’ll be there,” a cheerful female voice interjects from behind me.

“We’ll make sure of it,” an eerily similar voice adds.

Jumping in surprise, I whirl around. The Wadell twins are leaning against their lockers, blatantly listening to our entire exchange. Before I can ream them out for eavesdropping, Ryan extends one balled hand toward them.

They both fist-bump him, giggling.

“Sweet.” Ryan gives my shoulder a quick squeeze, winks playfully, and walks away. “See you tomorrow, Valentine!”

When he’s gone, I glance at Ophelia and Odette. They’re both sucking on lollypops — the big, pink kind with bubblegum in the center. They offer no explanation for their interference.

“Why did you do that?” I ask suspiciously.

“Because clearly you were about to say no to Ryan.” Odette shrugs.

“Total self-sabotage.” Ophelia nods.

“I still don’t see how it’s any of your business.”

“Sweetie, we all know at a private school, nothing is ever private.” Ophelia moves her lollypop into the side of her mouth, rounding out her cheek. “Ryan’s hot. And he likes you.”

Odette’s eyes narrow. “Don’t you want to go out with him?”

“I barely know him!”

“Is that even relevant?” Ophelia asks.

“Isn’t getting to know someone better the whole point of going out with them?” Odette adds.

She does have a point. “I… I’m not really looking to date anyone right now…”

“Date? Who said anything about date?” Ophelia’s nose wrinkles. “It’s just a party.”

“Just a party,” Odette echoes, nodding.

“Right…” I find myself murmuring. I feel like I’m being conversationally bludgeoned into compliance. Resistance is futile.

“Great.” Ophelia grins. “So you’ll go to the game!”

“I didn’t buy tickets,” I lie. “So even if I wanted to—”

“We have an extra! You can sit with us.” Odette smirks. “We were supposed to take our second-cousin Molly, but she’s a total drag. Our Mom will let us ditch her if we explain the direness of your situation.”

“But I really—”

“We’ll pick you up!” Ophelia announces, pushing off her locker. “You live over by Crow Island, right? The big house on the point?”

“Um, yes, but—”

“Cool. See you at seven!” Odette calls over her shoulder as she walks away, after her sister.

“Bring beverages!” Ophelia tacks on, just before they step around the corner, out of sight.

For a second, I just stand there, totally frozen, wondering what the hell just happened.

Why do I feel like I’ve been bamboozled into something I never wanted in the first place?

The following evening, I pace back and forth on the front steps of Cormorant House. It’s hot outside, a muggy late-May evening. Sweat dots my brow. I’m wearing bright white sneakers with my favorite jean cut-off shorts — the ones with ripped hems I bought forever ago. They’re a little tighter than they were last summer, riding high on my thighs, but I didn’t have time to upend my closet in search of a looser pair. At least the dark green t-shirt is breathable, hanging loosely around my sides. The front bears an image of a howling wolf — Exeter’s official mascot.

I glance at my watch.

7:07PM.

They’re late.

A fissure of nerves spikes through me. Maybe they aren’t coming. Maybe they were never coming. Maybe this was all just some elaborate prank to make me feel like an idiot and—

The outer gate buzzes.

I race to the intercom box embedded by the front door and punch in the access code. A few moments later, a custom-painted bubblegum-pink Range Rover rolls up the circular driveway, braking to a halt at the bottom of the steps. The passenger window rolls down. Odette sticks her head out.

“Will you be my Valentine?” she sing-songs, grinning.

I roll my eyes, laughing as I jog down the steps. The plastic grocery bag swings with each step. I wince as its weight clangs against my kneecap.

“You brought beverages?” Ophelia asks, turning to face me once I’m settled in the back seat.

I hold up the bag. “Grapefruit seltzer.”

The twins look at each other and burst into raucous laughter.

“She brought seltzer!” Odette wheezes.

“Cutest thing I’ve ever heard!” Ophelia snorts.

My brows lift. “Did I do something wrong? I can get regular water if you guys don’t like bubbles…”

For whatever reason, this makes the twins laugh even harder.

“Don’t worry, Josie.”