The Dylans are already seated at a round table when we arrive. I shake Jeff’s hand, then casually wave to Nev as I lower myself into the seat next to Ten. When Ten drapes his arm on the back of my chair, my spine locks tight and I lean forward.
Jeff eyes Ten’s arm, then eyes me. And so does Mom, but neither says anything. Impulsively, I palm my throat, the spot with the hidden hickey, and keep my hand there.
Ten leans toward me and whispers, “Relax.”
I jerk and knock over my water glass.
Ten smirks and so does Nev. As a waiter sops up my mess, I jiggle my knee. Ten clasps it, but his touch has the inverse effect of calmingme. I brush his fingers off before my mother, who’s sitting next to me, can see them.
A few minutes later, as Jeff tells Mom a story about the naughtiest but cutest thing Nev did when she was three, Ten’s hand returns to my leg. I angle my legs away from him, then cross them.
“If you don’t stop,” I whisper, “my next glass of water will end up in your lap, and it won’t be an accident.”
Ten has the audacity to chuckle. I’m dying, and he thinks it’s funny. I feel hot and tug at the collar of my navy T-shirt.
“So I heard you decided to stay, Ten?” my mother says, as a waiter deposits a bread basket and a pitcher of coffee on the table. “What changed your mind?”
As I pour coffee into my cup, Nev asks her brother sweetly, “Yeah, whatever changed your mind?”
My hands jerk, and coffee splashes onto my lap. “Shoot.”
When Ten grabs his napkin and rubs it against my thigh, I bang my knee into the table.
Cheeks on fire, I spring to my feet and mumble, “I’ll be right back.”
I can feel all four of them watching me as I make my way up the stairs to the bathroom, where I lock myself in a stall and bang my head gently against the door. “Oh, why did I agree to come?”
I should’ve faked a stomachache.
“You and me both, hon.” A loud flush detonates from the stall next to mine.
Water runs in the sink. I flush even though I didn’t pee, then walk out of the stall, and freeze.
My jaw drops a little. Okay…a lot.
The woman stares at me in the mirror without pausing in her application of red lipstick. Satisfied, she smacks her lips together. “Hi.”
My mouth hasn’t closed yet. I try to force it, but my mandible must be severed from the rest of my face.
The woman turns from the mirror. Her honey-brown hair is so shiny it’s almost blinding. It flows in loose curls over a sheer seafoam blouse that makes her eyes look green… an illusion. Her eyes are topaz-colored like Ten’s.
“Mona Stone,” I blurt out breathily.
She cocks her head to the side the exact same way Ten does and observes me with eyes that are shaped like Nev’s.
Nev, who’s sitting downstairs.
I stare at the floor as though it suddenly became transparent, as though I’m going to find Ten and Nev and Jeff and my mom all peering up at us.
But then I jerk my gaze back up to Mona. Is she aware that her family’s in the hotel? Is that why she’s here… why she’s talking to me?
“Didn’t mean to startle you, hon.” She smiles, her white teeth setting her face aglow.
The bathroom door snicks open, and I swing my attention toward it, terrified it’s Nev or Mom, but it’s a woman with messy brown curls wedged underneath a headpiece and purple-framed glasses sitting on her nose. “Mona, they’re ready for you on set.”
“On set?” I find myself asking. I can’t believe I just talked.
Mona tucks a lock of hair behind one ear. Shiny rings wink from almost all her fingers. “I’m filmin’ a new music video. Want to come watch?”
