But he’s here tonight. For me.So sweet of him.
I smile and wave at my brother as I tell Dorien, “Aeron made it. I should say hi.”
Dorien follows my gaze. If he’s bothered by the abrupt subject change, he doesn’t show it. “Yeah,” he says.
Aeron finally glances up from his sketchbook and notices me. He hesitates. I can sense him calculating whether it’s worth crossing the crowded room, weighing the social discomfort against whatever sibling obligation he feels. After a long moment, he closes his sketchbook and starts making his way toward us.
Thanks for the save, baby bro.
He’s almost reached us when an arm loops through mine from behind. I know the shape of that arm, and vanilla tickles my nose—the expensive shampoo Cinna insists is worth the $50 price.
“There you are!” Cinna’s voice is bright and excited. Honestly, she’s the sunshine I desperately need in my life. “I’ve been looking everywhere,” she says. “Then I saw your piece from back there and almost screamed. June, it’s incredible.”
I face her, and just like that, the heaviness Dorien brought with him dissolves. Cinna is pure positive vibes in human form, her honey-blonde hair shining—maybe the shampoo is worth it—and her champagne-brown eyes sparkling with genuine enthusiasm. She’s wearing a soft pink blouse that makes her look like she wandered out of a watercolor painting, and her smile is the kind that makes you feel like the most important person in the room.
“You’re biased,” I say, but I’m smiling too.
“I’m honest.” She squeezes my arm and looks at the canvas. “Seriously, the emotion in this gives me goosebumps.”
Behind me, I hear Dorien shift and clear his throat. “Cinna.”
Her attention flicks to him, and I feel her grip on my arm tighten. “Oh, I didn’t see you there.”
Liar.Cinna always sees Dorien. I’ve watched her track him across rooms, cafeterias, campus quads. She thinks she’s subtle about it. She’s not.
Dorien doesn’t know, and I’m not yet sure how I feel about it, but I’ve known about her interest for a while.
“I was just leaving,” he says. “Carter’s waiting for me.”
“Tell him I say hi.” My voice is lighter now because the canyon is firmly back between us.
Dorien nods, then glances past me. “Aeron. Good to see you. Let me know if you need any pointers about your freshmanyear.” He gives my brother a smirk. “I have plenty. Especially about hookups.”
Just leave already,I want to snap at him.
After an eye roll, I turn and find my brother standing there—silent as always, sketchbook pressed against his chest. His ocean-teal eyes flick between me, Dorien, and Cinna, taking everything in. What details is he picking up about all of us?
“Hey,” Aeron says. Just that. One syllable.
Dorien slips away and it’s like I can expand my lungs fully again. He cuts through the crowd with an effortless grace that makes people step aside without realizing they’re doing it.
Out of sight, out of mind.
“So,” Cinna says, her voice taking on a teasing lilt, “you and Dorien looked cozy.”
“We looked homicidal. There’s a difference.”
“Mmm. If you say so.”
I elbow her, and she laughs. When I turn to include Aeron in the conversation, he’s already drifting away, gravitating toward the outskirts of the room again. His sketchbook is open, his pencil moving. He doesn’t look back.
I should go after him and make sure he’s doing okay in this crowd. But Cinna is already pulling me toward a ceramic installation on the far wall, chatting about the color theory and how it reminds her of something she saw in a gallery in Chelsea last summer.
“Have you eaten?” she asks as we pause in front of a wooden sculpture of ballerinas. It’s better than the pieces I dismissed earlier. More risk in the form.
“Not since lunch.”
“June.” She says my name like it’s a diagnosis. “The showcase started at six. It’s almost seven.”
