“Back from the dead!”
“Back from Switzerland,” I correct lowly, but neither of them seems to be listening as they race toward me at top speed. Before I can brace for impact, they’ve thrown their arms around me — ensconcing my frame in a huddle of long limbs and a cloud of expensive perfume. They don’t pause long enough for me too answer a single question before firing off another.
“Where have you been hiding?”
“Why didn’t you tell us you were back in town?”
“Chris Tomlinson said he saw you but we didn’t believe him!”
“He thinks he’s a big shot, since they made him an officer.”
“As if we haven’t seen him passed out on a pool table after downing, like, sixteen Jell-O shots in a row.” I can practically hear Ophelia’s eyes rolling in her head.
Odette snorts. “Give a man a badge, suddenly he’s an upstanding citizen.”
“Ridiculous.”
“Totally.”
I manage to squirm free of the twins’ embrace, backpedaling until my butt bumps the counter. “Funny enough, Officer Tomlinson pulled me over for speeding the other day.”
They gasp in unison.
“In his defense, Iwasspeeding,” I point out. This factoid falls on deaf ears.
“What a dick!”
“Total dick!”
“I’ll tell you what, we donotmiss the Exeter boys.”
“We’ve moved on.”
“Upgraded!”
Odette winks in agreement. “Tomen.”
“Ones with emotional maturity.”
“And high-limit credit cards.”
The twins high-five.
“Good for you,” I say weakly, for lack of a better response.
A low cough sounds from behind me. I turn to find the solemn cashier staring pointedly, his hand outstretched for payment. I cast an apologetic look his direction as I fork over my cash, as if to say,Please do not lump me in with these two lunatics.He makes no comment as he opens the drawer to retrieve my change, but I can practically feel the waves of judgment rolling off him.
“So, Jo, what have you been up to?” Ophelia asks.
“Nothing much,” I say, turning back to face them, gummy bears cradled against my chest like a shield.
“Puffy eyes and a bag of candy,” Odette notes, eyeing my purchases with a shrewd gaze. “Guessing you had a rough night.“
I shrug. “I’m fine. Just hungry.”
“Your smeared mascara says otherwise.” Ophelia’s head tilts in contemplation. “Do we need to hurt someone?”
“Because we will,” her twin adds, a bit too eagerly.