CHAPTER NINE
FRANKIE
“Soooo,” Stella hums as she drops onto the barstool next to me, a mug of coffee clutched between her hands.
“So what?” I mutter, only one cup of coffee into my Monday. By some miracle, it’s 6:15 a.m. and Maverick is still asleep. I guess our big day yesterday really wore him out.
Too bad I slept like shit, thanks largely to thoughts of my hottie down the hall keeping me awake.
“How was your park date?”
“Wasn’t a date,” I grumble, nowhere near caffeinated enough for Stella’s level of pep, much less this conversation.
“Pretty sure it was.” She drums her sparkly nails against her mug.
“It definitely wasn’t.” My prickliness puts most people off, and yet, for some reason, my little ball-of-sunshine roommate seems immune.
“Did he drive?” she asks.
“Yes.”
She taps her index finger against her chin. “Did he buy y’all lunch?”
“What does it matter?” I ask defensively. So what if Orion bought our lunch, carousel tickets, and hot cocoa after?
“Oh, no.” She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. It just…”
“Just what?”
Her lips curl into a satisfied smile. “Just sounds like a date.”
“Well, it wasn’t.” I mean, I would know if I went on a date, right?
“Whatever you have to tell yourself.”
I want to snap at her to mind her own business, but deep down, I know she doesn’t mean any harm. Teasing and meddling is Stella’s love language. So, instead, I scoot my barstool back and refill my mug.
“Seriously, though, did y’all have fun?”
With my back to her, I allow the smile I’ve been fighting to take over. Yesterday was…everything.
My sweet boy had more fun at the park with Orion than he’s had in…I don’t know…years.
Don’t get me wrong, he and I always have a good time, but Orion was the star of the show. He chased him faster and longer, wrestled with him, played tag, hide and seek, and rode the carousel with him—twice.
“According to Mav, it was the best day ever.”
Stella hums thoughtfully. “And according to you?”
My earlier smile wilts. “It was…” I want to say confusing, but Stella doesn’t need the bait. She’s already relentless in her pursuit to crash through my every wall.
Not to mention, the last thing I want to discuss with her is my complicated feelings toward her brother.
“Was what?” she says from right behind me, startling me.
“Jesus Christ, are you, like, part ninja?”
“Maybe in a past life.” She nudges me out of the way with her hip and grabs the carafe to refill her cup. “But we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you.”
“Do we have to?”
Stella places her mug down and hops up onto the counter, swinging her feet as she regards me. “Obviously.”
“You’re relentless,” I complain, but she just smiles. “Like a tornado disguised as a sunrise.”
A gasp escapes her as she presses her free hand to her heart. “That’s, like, the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“You’re deranged.”
“That sounds more like you.”
Before I can reply, my alarm sounds. “Oh, lookie there, I’ve gotta get Maverick up for school.”
“This conversation isn’t over, Frankie.”
I drain the last of my coffee, place my mug into the sink, and scurry back to my room. Because if I know Stella like I think I do, she’s right…
This conversation is far from over, because she’s going to hound me for details until I break.
Wearing people down seems to be a Cartwright family trait, but unlike her brother, Stella is vividly aware of her highly inconvenient superpower.
Lucky me.
By the time my art class rolls around, I’m sweating bullets.
Knowing Stella, the only reason she hasn’t spent the day hounding me via text is because she’s trying to lull me into a false sense of security.
Well, I’m not falling for it.
Except, in class, she doesn’t so much as utter a word about her brother. She doesn’t needle or pry. She doesn’t even mention his name.
Clearly, she’s laying a trap and hoping I’m dumb enough to walk into it.
But I know what she’s doing.
“Do you have lunch plans?” she asks as the class comes to an end.
Immediately, I’m on high alert. “Why?”
She rolls her eyes. “Can’t a girl ask her friend to lunch?”
“Of course, a girl can, but I’m wondering why you are.”
Stella links her arm with mine. “Why does there need to be a reason? Maybe I just want to hang out.”
“We literally live together.”
She scoffs. “But Maverick is your priority, and I spend a lot of time with Samson and Emmy.”
“Oh my God. Fine. Let’s grab lunch.”
“Yay!” Stella squeals, happily dragging me toward the dining hall. She makes a beeline for the burger bar. At least she’s letting me get something tasty before she drags every last detail out of me.
Which she does, with both startling speed and accuracy. Or maybe I’m just that desperate for a listening ear. Who knows? Either way, I sing like a canary.
“He really played with Maverick all day?”