Of course. That made sense. We were friends. Friends was good, I liked being Kit’s friend.
It was selfish and stupid to want anything else.
The throw was sosoft, like all of Kit’s sweaters.
Not that I spent a lot of time touching Kit’s sweaters. I just folded them for him sometimes. Most of mine were scratchy, and about half were from Goodwill. The only decent ones I had were ones Kit had given me because he’d decided he didn’t love the color or the fit and it was too much trouble to return them.
I realized now that he’d actually just been giving me sweaters.
People were going to notice. They were going to know my sweaters were second-hand and my winter boots had been leaking for two years and my coat used to belong to my dad.
“You’ve gone pale,” Kit said, kneeling in front of me.
“Think I’m gonna throw up,” I murmured.
The fact that Kit didn’t immediately move meant a lot.
“You’re in shock,” Kit said, guilt written all over his face. “I should have warned you earlier. I’m sorry. You’ll feel better after a cup of tea.”
“You think tea fixes everything.”
Maybe that was it. Maybe I felt sick because I was in shock, and not because…
Not because Kit really didn’t like me the way I liked him.
“Anything that can’t be fixed by sufficient quantities of tea is in God’s hands,” Kit’s dad boomed as he entered the room.
Followed by anactual maidcarrying a silver tray with a big white-and-gold teapot and a collection of other delicate-looking porcelain.
She set it all down on a low table under Teddy’s direction while Kit looked conspicuously away, and then left with a controlled little curtsey and a nod.
Holy shit.
“Holy shit,” I said aloud. “You have people who bring you tea.”
“We’re keeping a skeleton staff over Christmas,” Kit’s dad explained offhandedly. “Sugar or honey?”
“Umm...”
I was too busy processing theskeleton staffpart to make a decision about sweeteners right now.
Overwhelming didn’t begin to cover it.
“Honey,” Kit answered for me, one hand resting on my knee and a fond smile curling one corner of his lips up. “Rather a lot of it. And milk, regardless of what’s in the pot.”
“I thought I’d better make it an Assam,” Teddy said. “Calms the nerves.”
“Oh yes,” Kit said wryly. “Only half the caffeine of a cup of coffee.”
His dad ignored him and passed me the most delicate cup I’d ever held in my life, so fine the afternoon light from the huge windows shone through it.
I held it up in amazement, but fear of breaking it made me lower it quickly.
“I apologize for the china,” Teddy said. “This is the Christmas set.”
The way he said it implied he didn’t love the Christmas set.
“Mother insists,” Kit explained.
