Skye doesn’t relax until we hear the sound of a car engine starting. She lets out a whoosh of air. “Hoo boy, we’re in for it now. The little old lady gossip network is going to be in a tizzy tonight.”
“How bad can it be?” I take her into my arms and launchus into the air.
“Oh, you sweet summer child. You have no idea what you’re in for. Mrs. Greely is thequeenof town gossip.” Skye gives me a pitying look, then tucks her face against my neck to keep it out of the wind.
My tail wraps around her legs, pulling her closer, and I lose myself in the feel of her in my arms.
After all, how difficult can a few elderly human women really be?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Skye
The next morning, instead of waking me with enthusiastic tummy kneading and purring, Princess Buttercup taps my cheek. The floofy hairs that stick out between her toes tickle, and I make a little moan of protest and burrow deeper under the covers.
Pat. Pat. Whap! There’s just enough hint of claws in that last hit to make it clear she means business.
“What?” I lower the covers to shoulder height, but refuse to open my eyes. Luke and I watchedStep Upwhile we ate dinner last night, then played a few rounds ofJust Dancewith the Wii. After all of that and our practice at the pond, I’m worn out.
“Make it stop,” Princess Buttercup moans and points a paw toward the nightstand.
That’s when I hear it: the buzz of an incoming textnotification. Then another, and another. My phone stays on vibrate these days so it doesn’t make any loud noises while I’m in the library, but even vibrate gets annoying after a while. I can sleep through just about anything, but my cat’s more sensitive.
I roll over and pick it up, and my screen comes to life: five voicemails and fifty-two text messages. Scratch that: fifty-three, another just came through. I set it to silent and flop back onto the bed.
The voicemails will be the aunts. Like most people their age, they’d rather call than text. I get two messages from each of them back to back, asking vague questions. The final message is the real one, with both of them on the phone together asking what they really want to know. This is their thing: vague “warm-up” questions as they work their way to why they’re actually calling.
“Skye! Mrs. Greely says she caught you naked at the pond with a man!” Aunt Betty says.
“In this weather,” Aunt Irene adds. “You’ll catch your death!”
“That’s what you’re worried about? Her catching a cold? Didn’t you hear the part about her being naked with aman?”
“Now, Irene, you know how Mrs. Greely exaggerates everything. I imagine it was heavy petting at best. Maybe a little under-the-sweater action.”
There’s a smile in Aunt Irene’s voice as she says, “Whatever am I going to do with you?”
“I don’t know, but you could start with some under-the-sweater action.”
I rub my face and laugh as they completely forgot theywere calling me and start to kiss.
One of the reasons I’m such a diehard romantic is because they’re still as into each other as they were when they first fell in love. I grew up surrounded by their love for me and their love for each other, and I’ve never wanted anything less for myself.
Another three texts came in while I listened to my voicemail. I sigh. The little old lady gossip network moves with the times. They might be older than the aunts—and unable to print a recipe from the internet without at least an hour of printer troubleshooting—but as soon as they discovered how useful it is for gossip, they fully embraced texting.
There is an endless stream of various townspeople asking if I’m okay or if I’ve been kidnapped. Jared shares photos of Luke from various events, and those make the rounds. He’s scowling in every single one of them, of course, but it only makes his cheekbones look even more amazing. Rosie, the mailperson and the nicest member of the little old lady gossip network, goes so far as to ask if Iwantedto be kidnapped.
I open the Witch Bitch chat. There was a flurry of texts around midnight, mostly everyone reporting that the gossip network had contacted them with the initial rumor of seeing me at the pond in Luke’s arms.
Around six this morning, a new batch started coming in.
Hannah sent,Skye, now you’re not just hugging Luke. You’re naked!
Yes, get it, girl!Jasmine replied.
Autumn added a series of fire emojis.
Kayla sobered things up by typing:3 people just texted me that Skye’s been kidnapped.
