Oddly disappointed, I smile back, with my very nice teeth. “Right.”
And that is that.
Six
Pen
Strangely, I feel hungover when I arrive at the airport. I hadn’t had much to drink at the Lucks’ house, and I went to bed right after my sandwich with August. Even so, my head is muzzy and my body sluggish as I pull my carry-on toward the check-in kiosk. The airport is fairly empty, and I’m hoping for an equally empty flight so I can sleep off whatever this crappy feeling is.
My mood sinks a little lower. I can deny it no longer: the sticky itch of failure is upon me. My grandparents’ house will go on sale and be lost to me.
Worse things have happened. Much worse. If viewed from the outside, I’m complaining for no reason. I’ll benefit financially in ways most people never dreamed of. I tell myself this regularly. Eventually it has to sink in.
I’m staring blindly at a row of kiosks when there’s a voice at my ear. “Hey.”
As though zapped, I whip around.
“August!” It comes out in an unfortunate squeak of surprise.
“Hi.” That gorgeous smile of his unfurls slow but sure. It does funny things to my insides. Worse, though, is the way his sudden appearance has somehow brightened everything and happiness flows through me like liquid light.
Stranger still? He seems happily surprised as well.
His gaze travels over my face like he can’t believe I’m here. “I didn’t know you were on this flight.”
“Why would you? We never exchanged travel plans.”
“I don’t remember you being this sassy.” He peers at me in mock suspicion. “Did you grow into it or something?”
“No, I take sassy supplements at bedtime. I mean, ‘if you haven’t got your health—’”
“‘—you haven’t got anything.’” He inclines his head toward mine. “I was subjected toThe Princess Bridetoo.”
“One is not subjected toThe Princess Bride. One watches with glee or one hates it and is resigned to a lifetime of wallowing in freakish misery.”
“Cute. The way you keep sliding in those quotes.”
“It’s a gift. And a curse.”
“You did it again,” he points out.
“Did I?”I so did.
August nods. “That was fromMonk.”
“Hmm . . . Are you sure?”
“Yes. Mom loves that show. She watches it every time she does a deep housecleaning. Says it ‘channels’ her sanitation energies.” He studies me for a beat, and a little line forms between his brows. “You don’t seem pleased to see me.”
“What? No!” I wave my hand. “I’m totally fine with it.”
If he only knew.
“Faint praise.”
“Well, I’m not going to gush, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
“No.” August straightens. “No... I don’t want that.”
