Me:Perfect, because I’ve lost my keys.
A little bubble pops up, showing the other end is texting back, but a firm hand on my shoulder prevents me from replying and apparently falling over.
“Don’t die.” Autumn rights me on the sidewalk.
Glancing around, I realize I almost walked straight into a tree, which would have hurt. “Thanks.” I tuck my phone into the pocket of my fancy fresh coat and look at Autumn, who’s standing before me, wearing jeans, boots, and a heavy sweater. She scowls at me. “As always, a pleasure.”
Not in the mood to dive into that storm, I look both ways to cross the not at all busy street and head back to the library with my and Ms. Aberdeen’s lunches.
Autumn growls behind me, her footsteps dramatic on the pavement. “Wait.” She doesn’t sound happy about that command.
I do not, in fact, wait, and instead choose to continue to the library and my lunch before it grows cold in my hands.
“Darn it, Wren, wait.”
“Nope, a food coma calls, and I am a slave to that siren’s wail,” I shout over my shoulder, then I pick up my pace, choosing to speed walk like those little old ladies who do so with weights in their hands.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot.” She catches up to me, matching me step for step.
“That, Autumn, is on you.” I nod to the library, taking the steps two at a time. “Back to work,” I grumble, heading inside and out of the cold.
The tantalizing scent of snow lingers in the air as it has for days, the threat of it on each breath of wind. Yet it doesn’t let loose, just hovering there like a sword.
Eventually, it will dump all over us.
I rush through to the lunchroom. Ms. Aberdeen is nowhere in sight, even as Autumn follows me in. There goes my buffer. Instead, I’m stuck throwing her food in the fridge and slumping into a seat beside a smug-looking Autumn. Giving up, I toss my coat aside, determined to consume my food like a Hoover vacuum because I’m starving.
“Fine.” I flip open my lid and stare at the turkey dinner that I got for lunch. If she thinks I’m sharing, she’s out of her mind. “Speak.” I wave a fork at her as I dig into my turkey and gravy.
“Look…” She leans forward in her chair, her blonde hair falling over her shoulder. “Arlo is my twin, and Bloom is my friend. You can’t be too angry that I wanted to look out for both of them when you’ve made it very clear you are only staying here because you have to.”
I grumble at her for pointing out every single flaw that reflects back at me in the mirror. I hate that she isn’t wrong, but it doesn’t mean that I have to agree with her, so I give her a bored look.
“You know it and I know it, so let’s just call it what it is and move on. Okay?” She nods to herself as though that settles it, and maybe to her, it does. “I know they won’t ever get back together. I know this, but then you come along, sweeping my brother off his feet, and how am I supposed to handle that?”
“You were mean to me,” I say around a mouthful of turkey, sounding like a petulant child.
“You are an outsider.”
“You are not helping your case.”
She growls at me like a rabid hyena. I hide my laughter by shoveling a biscuit into my mouth.
“No, I’m not.” She sighs, leaning back in her chair. “Can we just start over?”
“You want to start over?” I shake my head in defeat, not sure how I feel about this. On one hand, I get where she is coming from because I’d be the same way with Robin. But then again, she was mean. “For what end goal?”
“How about a truce?” Her blue eyes light up with mischief.
“What kind of truce?”
“I’ll tell you why we don’t celebrate Thanksgiving.”
“So you admit it?” This aha moment leaves me giddy, my fork falling onto my plate.
“I admit it, but no one else will admit it.” She raps her knuckles on the table. “I’ll tell you, but then I’ll have to swear you to secrecy. Pretend you don’t know. I don’t care how, but make it believable.”
“All right,” I agree hesitantly, because my stomach flares with nerves at the ominous feeling in the air.
