“We’re playing Uno,” Ruby answers Noah.
Around our table, Noah’s friends appear. “Hey, Knightly. Hi Ruby,” they greet. Tiana, Alison, and Sana also appear with hellos. To my surprise, Henry and Alison are standing as close to each other as Kaito and Tiana.
I raise my brow at Noah. If he understands my message, he ignores it. “Who’s winning?” he asks.
“We haven’t started.” I gesture to the cards. “Don’t you know how to play Uno?”
“Of course he does. He beats me all the time,” Henry grumbles.
“It’s his Italian blood,” Declan says.
Everyone raises a brow at Declan.
“Because Uno’s Italian. Right?” he says.
“I think it’s American,” I say. “Uno is just a name.”
“Damn, doesn’t she know everything?” Declan chuckles, nudging Noah. “Now we know your type.”
Everyone goes silent as Noah and I narrow our eyes at Declan. Like me, Noah hasn’t explicitly denied that we’re dating but hasn’t come close to confirming it either. Declan stops chuckling. “And when I say type, I mean friendship type.”
“Well, you clearly disprove that theory,” Henry drawls.
The tension breaks and everyone laughs. Ruby smiles, but her jaw is tight as her eyes appraise Noah. Before she can say anything, Sana talks to her about something funny that happened in their Biology class.
As the others start their own conversation, I turn to Noah. “What are you doing here?” I murmur.
“Alison and Henry are driving me crazy.”
My eyes flick to them, and while Henry’s too far to hear us, he glances at us with the corners of his lips tugged down.
“Besides,” Noah continues in a normal voice, “I wanted to talk to you. Maybe we can play a game.”
Alison huffs, bored. “Come on, let’s go.” She tugs on Henry’s arm.
“We’ll sit on the beanbags,” Tiana says, grabbing Kaito’s hand. She glances at me before leaving. “By the way, your hair looks great, Eve.”
I touch my ponytail. It’s the same ponytail I’ve always worn. I know she’s flattering me for unknown reasons — because Tiana is never nice to be nice — but I can’t help the warmth that floods my body. “I guess …”
She smiles before walking off, and everyone follows her except Noah.
“‘I guess?’” he echoes.
“This is the same hair I’ve always worn,” I say.
“Fair point. But next time, take the compliment.”
“Why?”
“Because people will think you’re nicer that way.”
“Who cares if they think I’m nicer?”
“BecauseIknow you’re nicer than you seem. But at school, you have this look about you. Resting bitch face. You scare people away.”
“Including your friends?” That seems unlikely.
“Smile more. And take compliments. Also, put these shoulders down.” He pushes them so I will relax.
