Trying to figure out girls, especially ones I was related to, was definitely not one of my superpowers.
It was another day of shopping. Jenna and Bailey were both complaining about not having enough clothes. Our wardrobe from Kentucky still hadn’t arrived, if it ever would. After the wraith had showed up, I think we all wrote our stuff off as a lost cause. They wouldn’t want to send anything to us on the off chance that it had been tampered with. So that meant a lot of shopping.
“Again?” Mal had groused first thing in the morning, when everyone had collected in his kitchen. I didn’t really want to go, either, but the other three were all about it. And I figured it would be better to keep an eye on Jenna rather than let her unleash her temper on an unsuspecting population.
“Just because everything looks good on you is no reason for the rest of us to suffer,” Jenna said crossly. “Besides, a girl needs options.”
“Our guardian said it gets cold here, and there’s lots of snow,” Bailey added. “I need a couple different coats if she’s right.”
“I guess I could use a new pair of cross-trainers,” Mal sighed.
The whole conversation made me think of what Quinn had been saying the night before. That the Council made sure we had allowances and credit cards just to keep us quiet. If we were taken care of, we were less likely to complain. I listened to Jenna and Bailey discussing things they’d seen in store windows, and Cole jumping in to talk about some video game he wanted, and I realized that he was right.
I’d never thought about it like that before. Just how far did they go to manipulate us? Were our moves always necessary, or were they trying to accomplish something else?
Carrow Mill didn’t have a “mall” by the strictest definition, but Malcolm had found the closest alternative. There was a suburb where the trendy rich lived, and they had a little outdoor shopping plaza that screamed Old Time, America. Cobblestone streets lined with park benches gave off the perfect downtown vibe, even though it was all an elaborate ruse. The outdoor mall, Americana style. All the buildings stood at least three stories, the bottom floor filled with chains like Express, Forever 21, and even a Barnes & Noble. The girls were in heaven. The guys were there to carry bags.
“I missed my morning workout for this? I’d rather be sleeping,” Mal groaned, throwing himself down on one of the benches on the street. The girls were inside with Cole, who’d been surprisingly quick to tag along with them. It made sense when he tried to tag along at Victoria’s
Secret, but less so when it was just a clothing boutique.
“You’re the driver,” I said, leaning over the back of the chair and watching across the street.
More and more people were starting to crowd the streets. “Besides, how can you hate shopping? Stop ruining a perfectly good stereotype.”
“Shopping with
“I think you’re just supposed to tell them it looks great,” I said with an absent shrug. “That’s what I always do, at least.”
“Always playing peacemaker,” he said with a fluid wave, like a conductor controlling the orchestra.
I followed the movement, reading the intent behind it. “It’s not like that. I’m not manipulating them.”
“Sure you’re not.”
“Who cares what you think, anyway?” I snapped. “You’re the one with the Victoria’s Secret bag in your lap.”
He didn’t need to look up to give me the finger. Then again, by doing so he missed the group of girls crossing the street right in front of him.
The girl in front knew she was gorgeous. She owned it. Her brunette hair was pinned up with chopsticks, and her dark coat was the kind of fur that probably wasn’t faux. She had what
Jenna would have called “permanent bitch face”—a smirk that looked like it never left her face.
She took one look at Mal with his middle finger in the air, turned right to her friend, and started whispering something. Almost the entire flock of girls burst into giggles as they passed us.
“Great first impression,” I said, and Mal finally lifted his head.
He saw the girls and rolled his eyes. “I’m heartbroken. If it’s so important, why don’t
“Dick.”
Mal laughed. “Go talk to the girls, coward.”
I watched them go, half wanting to. They were partway down the street when one of the girls in back turned around. She was the only one with short hair, some sort of reddish auburn that stood out against her white jacket. Despite the snow and ice on the ground, she moved easily, and grinned in my direction.
“They’re just girls,” Mal said, like that made any sense whatsoever. “They’re not going to hurt you. I mean, unless you want them to.”
“I’ve had enough things trying to hurt me for one lifetime,” I muttered. “You know this is why I let Cole do bad things to your reputation, right?”
Mal lifted himself upright like he was doing crunches at the gym. “Better hurry, before Jenna decides which one you like before you do,” he said, nodding to the store the girls were in.
Jenna and Bailey were at the cash register, and Cole stood mystified staring at a rack of jewelry.
“I’m going for a walk,” I announced, and started off down the street. I might have hustled a little, but I couldn’t say for sure whether I was trying to catch up to the girls or get away from my siblings.
It was probably an even stretch of both.
Half an hour later, I didn’t have a clue where I was. Despite what I’d said to Mal, I wasn’t about to go stalk a bunch of girls that I’d have to spend a few months at school with. Bad first impressions weren’t my thing.
The downside to small-town Americana was that every street looked the same. I got lost quickly and managed to walk in a circle at least three different times. By a stroke of luck, I finally managed to find my way back to the bookstore, only to open the door just as the girls from earlier were walking out. The brunette leader sailed passed without even a thank you. The rest of the girls followed her lead, a few giggles escaping here or there. And then there was the girl in the back.
She held the inner door open, just as I held the outer. After a momentary stare down between us, she cocked her shoulders as if to say, “Well?” We stood like two gunslingers in the
Old West, waiting to see who’d flinch first. Who’d release their door and let the other walk through?
I glanced down the street, desperately trying to think of something cool to say. This girl didn’t look like she’d fall for one of Malcolm’s stupid lines or be drawn in by Cole’s sometimes adorable nature.
“Your friends are leaving.” Immediately I wanted to kick myself. That was how I opened a conversation?
Her smile widened. “Maybe they’re not my friends.” She ran a hand through her hair, and I … forgot what I was going to say. The cold didn’t matter, the people coming in and out around us weren’t important.
“My name’s Justin,” I finally called out, during a particular rush through the doors.
She touched a little old lady in a tan coat on the shoulder and laughed. Then she looked back at me, shaking her head. “I didn’t ask.”
Right about now, Malcolm would be sliding in with some completely inappropriate line. Or
Cole would be too busy staring at her butt to really pay attention. I just … kept holding the door. I’d used up all my know-how with girls right off the bat. My brain couldn’t form words.
Make talky hard.
“You’re gawking.” She had a tinkling kind of laugh, like someone running fingers down the piano.
I shook myself, and shifted so I was holding the door with my foot. “Am not.” Great. I’d regressed to kindergarten, thirty seconds away from kicking her in the shins and running away.
The last of the line finally dissipated. She gestured again, this time a flourishing move with her arm. My feet remained rooted in place. She smiled again, her eyes searching mine. Then she finally let go of her door and started walking towards mine. After a second’s hesitation, she opened the other half of the double doors and exited through that one.
“Come on, puppy,” she said with a backwards glance at me. “I’m going to let you buy my coffee.”
I remained where I was. “Puppy?”
“Could’ve called you kitten,” she said over her shoulder. “Keep it up, and maybe we’ll work our way up to
