just moved back here from Milan, and Jenna’s planning his sister’s party.” She pauses. “Angela’s sweet. You’d like her.”
She stares intently at her tray, and I do not rush in to fill the silence. I do not ask what happened at the party or any day since. Instead, I watch her lick her lips and crack her knuckles.
Though I want to scream for her to finish her tale, I want her to
Finally, Cat breaks the silence. “We danced…”
My stomach turns, remembering another dance, one I witnessed her sharing with Lorenzo. Cat’s ball was magical for many reasons, but seeing the way they looked at each other that night changed something inside me. I have always wondered what it would be like to be on the receiving end of such adoration.
Cat drops her head and scratches her neck, using the action to steal a subtle glance at Lucas’s table. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she says, “And now, it’s like he’s everywhere. I can’t escape him, Less, and believe me, I’ve tried. I even went to my nana’s house in Mississippi for Christmas break, but distance doesn’t stop him from texting or calling.”
A stunning blonde in a short skirt bounces up behind Lucas and brazenly wraps her arms around his neck. I hear my cousin’s sharp inhalation as the girl leans in to whisper in his ear, blocking Lucas’s face from our view. Cat emits a close impersonation of a growl.
Though I feel fiercely disloyal to my friend back home for doing so, I have to ask. “Cousin, perhaps this is another cultural thing I do not understand, but why are you so desperate to avoid him?”
Cat slaps the table in clear frustration. “Everything’s just so confusing. I mean, he looks like Lorenzo, but he isn’t. And I get that I’m never gonna actually
She shoves both hands through her hair, and I nod in encouragement, because I do understand.
But then she says, “I have to tell you, though…there’s a part of me that wonders if Lucas being here, looking so much like Lorenzo, if it’s like a cosmic sign from Reyna, telling me I need to move on. That it’s okay. That it’s not horrible to like him and I should go for it. But then, I don’t know.” She laughs humorlessly. “Maybe it
Her eyes are dark brown pools of self-condemnation and confusion, imploring me to give her an answer I simply do not have. So I shrug, as clueless about gypsy magic as she is, even as I wish I could do so much more.
At the back table, the blonde raises her head and says, “Oh, Lucas,” giggling in such a way that manages to sound girlish and incredibly annoying at the same time. Cat grits her teeth, intentionally avoiding the scene behind her. “Plus, all of it…it just feels wrong, you know?”
I push my tray away, no longer having any interest in food, cheese-filled or not. “What feels wrong?”
“You know.” She swallows. “Having feelings for someone else. At the party, when Lucas asked me to dance, I honestly didn’t see the harm—it would’ve been rude to say no, and it was a chance to kind of relive my dance with Lorenzo at the ball. But it ended up being more than that. And then it got weird.” She bites her lip and squints at me. “There was…a connection.”
I cannot help it; I flinch.
Cat hangs her head. “I know! After an entire month of not being able to think about anyone else but Lorenzo, all Lucas had to do was slide his arms around me on the dance floor and my insides melted like in a freaking romance novel.”
Shoving her own plate away, she bangs her head onto the table in an obvious display of berating herself. My heart feels torn. I so badly want to ease her distress, to pat her shoulder and say everything will be okay. But my hand hesitates midair.
Since Cat transported through time, Lorenzo has been my only real friend. Granted, he was and will always be more my brother’s friend than my own, but he has looked out for me, protected me. And I know he would be devastated to know another man was trying to steal Cat’s heart—much less someone who looks so much like himself.
But Cat is my family.
I stare at her long brown hair for a beat and then place my hand on her shoulder.
From the table behind us, a bubbly giggle breaks out. Cat twists around in time to see the blonde practically throw herself into Lucas’s lap.
“And that would be Desiree. It took her long enough to find the fresh meat. School started what, a whole three hours ago?”
My cousin shakes her head in disgust and turns back to me. “Here I am all conflicted on what I should do while there’re girls like her around, more than willing to introduce him to American ways. And I swear, it’s like he’s everywhere. I can’t even get a moment to think, to process, without turning around and finding him behind me. Lucas is even in my art class, my sanctuary, of all places. And of course he’s awesome, which means we have that in common, too. You should’ve heard Mr. Scott going on and on about how impressive Lucas’s technique was and his stupid use of negative space.”
She plucks the straw from her carton and attempts to snap it. When it refuses to break, she tosses it down the table. “If the boy’s not teaching the class by the end of the year, it’ll be a freaking miracle.”
I study my lap to hide my smile. Not at the situation, but at my cousin’s surprising reaction.
Never have I seen Cat show such straightforward agitation—not even when battling for her freedom during her stay in my time. Then she kept her distress and planning neatly contained, at least around my parents and brother. She never expressed her frustration in public…though the fact that Lucas has the power to make her so openly distraught now is telling in itself.
The realization is sobering, and my heart hurts for Lorenzo. But I know more than anything he would want Cat to be happy.
Back at Lucas’s table, I see him gently but firmly move Desiree off his lap. She does not appear fazed. She continues to prattle beside him while a pained smile crosses his handsome face. He transfers his focused gaze about the room as if he’s searching for something—or
As if of their own accord, the corners of my mouth lift at the sight.
Chapter Eight
It is the second to last class of the day, thank Signore, and as destiny, the scheduling gods, and our mysterious gypsy girl would have it, I enter drama class. According to Cat, this is one of the most highly sought- after electives in the school, and I am fortunate to have been admitted.
We both know there is much more than mere luck at play.
Almost as soon as I enter the small theater where the class meets, a pretty brunette sidles up beside me. She looks over my outfit and the hands I have clenched into anxious fists at my sides and says, “You’ve gotta be Less.”
“And you must be Hayley,” I say, smiling as I take in her outfit. She has paired a bright blue hat with a yellow T-shirt and red skirt, a skirt that is both long and modest in the back and chopped scandalously short in the front. Cat told me her new friend desires to be a fashion designer one day, and after seeing what society deems “fashion” today, I silently wish her luck. “I was hoping we would soon meet.”
Hayley nods her head toward the front of the classroom where a large stage awaits, and I fall in step beside her. “So, Cat tells me you’re quite the talented actress.”
Heat fills my cheeks, and I shake my head. “I fervently wish to be an accomplished performer, yes, but I am afraid my cousin is overzealous in her praise. I have only been in one play.”
She gives me a look over her shoulder. “Living around here, you learn pretty quickly that experience has very little to do with talent. Trust me, with that girl’s background, Cat can spot talent. And if she says you’ve got it, then you’ve got it. Thank God, too, because heaven knows this place could use some fresh blood.”
When we arrive at the front row, she tugs down the bouncy bottom of a dark blue chair. She takes her seat
