Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up!
“Since when!” Kristen shrieks, swatting his arm. “How could you not tell me, thematchmaker, of such a development?”
Her eyes dart to me, flaring like a silent signal to brace myself.
“I didn’t realize I had to report back to you ontheirbusiness,” Vincent says, leaning in obnoxiously close to Kristen.
“Vin, come on, focus,” she says, gently pushing his face a few inches back.
Vincent frowns. That’s not like her. The Kristen I know—or the one I’ve gotten used to—would’ve seized the opportunity to steal a kiss with him sitting that close, or to stick a potato chip in his mouth.
“Whatexactlydid he say?” she asks, her tone a bit too serious.
Vincent shrugs, frowning at his side salad like it’s the one giving him the third degree.
“I don’t know. He mentioned minigolf this weekend.”
“Minigolf?” Kristen says, looking at me, her brows raised. To Vincent, she probably looks surprised, but I can tell it’s her silent way of asking me what I’m going to do.
“Saturday,” I say, racking my brain for a good excuse.
“Saturday is Clarity’s birthday,” Kristen chimes in. “I’m sure she has plans with her parents.”
As much as I appreciate the save, it creates the perfect opening for something I’ve been meaning to do.
“Actually,” I say, dragging out the word, happily dramatic. “Weare all busy this Saturday.”
“We are?” Vincent asks.
“Hannah invited us to a Halloween party. I think the friendor girlfriend of one of the field hockey players is throwing it—a girl named Valerie—”
“You’regoing to a party atValerie’shouse?” Vincent asks, his voice dripping with disbelief.
“Despite what you may think, I’m not a hermit,” I say, defending myself around a forkful of chicken.
“No, I just mean, you do realize that there will probably be drugsandalcohol at this party, right? I mean, if weed makes you uptight—”
“It doesn’t make me uptight,” I hiss. “And I don’t live under a rock. Yes, I know there are ‘drugsandalcohol’ at parties.”
“Hey, I just didn’t want you to walk into something you weren’t prepared for.”
It takes everything in me not to accuse him of knowing that feeling every day when he leaves his house, but I gracefully manage to hold it in.
“Do you want to go or not?” I ask, focusing on Kristen and struggling not to lose my patience. “You and I always spend Halloween together. I figured this is something new we can do, our first and last high school Halloween party.”
“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds kind of impossible to resist,” she says, smiling.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”
“HAPPY HALLOWEEN!”
“Halloween? Clark, it’s her birthday—”
“But she’s celebrating Halloween today too—”
“Okay, but you saying happy Halloween makes it seem like that’s why we’re here, but we are here to say happy birthday. Focus, you have to focus—”