Blood rushes to my chest and up my neck. Him. Biting.Get your mind out of the gutter, girl!“I’m Cindy,” I blurt. “I love shoes.”I love shoes?
He looks down, and then with admiration, he says, “And I can see you put your best foot forward. Aren’t those striking?” he asks. “Just like you.”
At my side, a crew member waves me forward.
Oh. Right. Walking. I should do that.
I step forward as Henry holds his arms out, and I lean in for a hug.
“Henry,” he says, his breath tickling my neck. “I’m Henry.”
I step back and instinctively bite down on my lip, nerves getting the best of me. “I better get to the ball. See you in there?”
“I plan on it,” he says.
I walk into the château, trying to do my best supermodel strut without looking like a wounded animal. (What they don’t tell you in the pamphlets is that half of fashion school is pretending you’re a runway model. Sierra’s walk is honestlyAmerica’s Next Top Modellevel of fierce.)
I open the door, and from the other side I hear a pained groan.
“What the…”
Anna reaches out and yanks me into the foyer.
“Shhhh.” Drew holds a finger over her lips.
“We’re not supposed to be here,” Anna whispers. “But we couldn’t miss your entrance.”
“You look incredible,” Drew tells me.
My stepsisters pull me in for a three-way hug, and it feels so good to be alone with them for even a brief moment.
“Did they really make you two introduce yourselves as twins?”
Anna rolls her eyes. “They’re making a bit of it. People keep calling us twins, and then we correct them and say that we’re almost twins.”
Drew shrugs. “It’s annoying, but hopefully it will help us stand out.”
“Honestly, it’s a little creepy,” I say.
“You little awkward weirdo!” Anna says. “Stop trying to change the subject. What was going on out there?”
I know that I should keep my secret about Henry to myself. But I can’t help it. Not with Anna and Drew. “I sat next to him on the plane,” I say quickly.
Their jaws drop in unison.
“You. Sat next tothe suitoron the flight from New York?” Drew asks, spelling it out slowly and quietly.
I nod.
Anna sighs with delight. “I think he’s super cute, and please know that I definitely want him for myself, but oh my gosh, if that isn’t fate, I don’t know what is.”
“There’s no such thing as fate,” I tell her.
“Anna, stop pretending he’s your type,” Drew tells her. “You like them a little dirty and underemployed.”
Anna pouts for a second, but then nods thoughtfully.
“Stop it,” I say. “Both of you. It wasn’t fate. It was just a coincidence.” I don’t believe in fate. I can’t. I refuse to believe that first Mom and then Dad dying was part of some grand scheme. If that’s true, whatever’s at the end of my rainbow isn’t worth what it will have cost me.
