Wild Swans - Jessica Spotswood Page 0,56

boyfriend,” Claire adds helpfully.

“Oh.” Jenna’s face falls. “I was hoping he was like your cousin or something. He’s really hot, and I’m single now, so—”

“Sorry, he’s taken,” Claire says with not an ounce of sorry in her voice.

“Got it. No worries. I don’t poach.” Jenna smiles at me, and I can see Claire bristling at the notion that Connor could be “poached,” but Jenna sails on. “Where’d you find him? Does he go to the college?” I nod and she purses her glossy red lips. “Cool. If he has any hot friends, let me know.”

“Sure.” I nod again. Tonight is going to be full of bizarre conversations, I guess.

Jenna starts to walk away, then hesitates. “Bummer about your mom being back in town. I heard she’s a total bitch.” She walks away without waiting for me to respond.

“I have known Connor for all of five seconds, and I can tell he would never in a million years go for someone like Jenna,” Claire says.

I smile. “I’m not worried. But hey, I thought we weren’t supposed to judge other girls.”

“Busted.” Claire laughs, then nods in the direction of the keg. “Hey, did Alex bring a date?”

I turn my head and gawk. “That isn’t his date. That’s my sister.”

“That’s Isobel?”

Iz is wearing jeans and a black tank top with a couple of long necklaces. She looks boho cute with her hair in two braids. I wonder if Erica asked Alex to bring her. And I wonder why he said yes. To be polite? To make me jealous because he’s hanging out with my sister and not me?

It works. I watch as he introduces her to half the baseball team and their girlfriends. Katie Griffith says something that makes Iz laugh, while I remember the look of horror on Katie’s face at the coffee shop. Was Katie the one who told Jenna that my mom’s a bitch? Does everybody in our class know by now? Do they all feel sorry for me?

Alex looks up as if he can feel my eyes on him, and I think he might smile. Wave. Nod his head in acknowledgment. Something. Instead, he looks away.

“You two still aren’t talking?” Claire asks, but the answer is pretty evident. “I can’t believe he’s ghosting on you like this. You don’t think he’d hook up with Isobel to get back at you, do you?”

“No. He’s not like that.” I’m questioning lots of things about my friendship with Alex, but not that.

Connor returns, carrying two cups of wine and a beer tucked into the crook of his arm. He hands one cup to Claire and one to me and then slides his arm around me.

I slip away from him. “My sister’s here. With Alex.”

“Oh.” He frowns. “Is this not a date anymore?” I follow his gaze to Iz and Alex. Iz is laughing and holding a beer. She looks pretty, unfettered by the tension of home.

“I’m afraid she’ll say something to Erica.” But I note the tightness in Connor’s jaw, the way he’s shifted away from me. “This isn’t about Alex. Alex knows—well, I don’t know if he knows we’re dating, because he’s not speaking to me. But I don’t care if he finds out. He knows I’m not interested in dating him.”

“You sure about that? He seemed pretty possessive when he interrupted lunch.”

“Oh, he knows,” Claire says. “Ivy made it clear last weekend when she told him it was none of his business who she kisses. It made my feminist heart go pitter-pat—especially coming from Ivy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, especially coming from Ivy?” I ask.

“That you don’t like telling people the truth when it will disappoint them.” Claire gives me a grin that shows off her dimples. “That you’re not a bitch like me. Hey, could you just ask Isobel not to tell your mom?”

“I don’t think we’re sharing sisterly secrets yet.” Honestly, I don’t know if we’ll ever get there. Will the girls stay around long enough for us to start feeling like a real family? Or will Erica get fed up with Granddad’s rules and take off? I’m practically holding my breath, waiting for the fight that takes them out of our lives again, maybe forever.

I don’t know how I’d feel about that anymore. I’d be glad to see Erica go, but Iz? Gracie?

“I don’t like keeping you a secret,” Connor says.

“This isn’t some possessive alpha-male thing, is it?” Claire asks, sipping her wine.

“No, this is an ‘I’m crazy about this girl and would like to hold her