Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“Dropping it off wasn’t the problem,” he says softly. “I nearly had to sell my future firstborn to my own brother just to get it. Charlie was unsurprisingly territorial.”
I shrug. “You did lose it last time.”
“It was stolen,” Eliot corrects. “I lost nothing.”
I smile. “Stolen,” I agree and then lower my voice even more as my row empties out. “Anyway, I thank you for all your efforts. If I don’t post regularly, my followers on Fictitious start to think I’ve died.”
Especially since my followers don’t know galaxxygirlx is me, Luna Hale. I’ve kept that secret pretty under wraps. And while it was a blow when The Royal Leaks told the world “Luna Hale writes tentacle porn,” they never leaked my username or any of my fics.
Eliot’s brows rise. “Dramatic.”
“Gotta love ‘em,” I smile and stand up from my row. Frog follows suit. She’s busy canvassing the lecture hall with alert eyes. With two-hundred students filling the many seats, she’s told me that pre-class and post-class are the most important times for her to be on guard. It’s good to know so I don’t bother her.
Eliot and I meet in the aisle. My cousin studies the auditorium with a sweep. A bit of intrigue sparks his eyes.
“It’s not as cool as it seems,” I tell him. “Exams suck. Lectures are boring.”
His gaze drops to mine, confusion setting into his irises. “Then why do you do it?”
I shrug. It’s better than nothing. I hold back those words because they seem sad. Instead, I glance at the clock on my phone’s lock-screen.
“It’s almost noon. My brother should be here soon.”
“Which brother?”
“Xander. He was invited by some honor society to have lunch at Penn.”
Eliot blinks slowly like he’s processing. “There’s so much going on in that sentence. Dear God, I have so many questions.”
We walk side-by-side up the staircase towards the top exit, and my smile grows. “Xander’s graduating in the spring, and I think the honor society is trying to poach him for next year.”
“An honor society?” Eliot says in disbelief. “I thought your brother was pulling B’s at Dalton.”
“A’s and B’s. And from a Hale’s standard that might as well be honor society material.”
“But from an honor society’s standard are B’s honor society material?”
I don’t reply.
Off my silence, Eliot says, “It just seems highly unlikely there’s not an ulterior motive at play. And why would Xander even agree to a luncheon? That doesn’t seem like something he’d do.”
“Your conspiracy theories are noted,” I say, pushing open the double doors hard so they don’t swing back in my face. Bright afternoon light assaults my eyes, and I shield the glaring rays with my hand. “And Xander has been taking more risks lately. It’s actually kinda inspiring.”
“Yeah, it is.” He slips on black designer Wayfarers. “But fuck, I wouldn’t blame your brother if he bunkered down in the house for the rest of his life. I’d become Miss Havisham from Great Expectations if every time I breathed it caused a stampede of people to descend upon me. I adore attention—but everyone has limits.”
“Donnelly is with him,” I remind Eliot. “If something shady goes down or there’s a crowd, he’ll protect Xander. But I want to be there, too, just in case.” Or at least, I want to be on the sidelines, ready to jump in if something bad happens. It’s what Moffy would do, if he were here.
I want to be a better big sister.
If that’s in me at all.
Eliot fishes his phone from his slacks. “Where’s this lunch thing?”
I frown. “Joe’s Café.”
Eliot starts texting as we meander through the quad.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Texting my little brother. Telling him to meet up for lunch.”
Greaaaat. “I’m guessing this isn’t Tom.” The Carraways have band practice today, and they’re testing out a new drummer, since Akara has only agreed to fill-in on select performances.
Eliot lifts his sunglasses to his head, still texting as we walk. “Your little brother and my little brother were once friends—”
“Keyword once.” I sigh heavily. “We shouldn’t meddle—”
“We should definitely meddle.” Eliot squints at his phone and then holds the cell to his ear. He has text-to-speech enabled. He grins as he listens to Ben’s reply. “He’s meeting us at Joe’s Café for a quick bite before his next class.”
Ben is an Environmental Science major here at Penn. Barely a month into the semester and we’ve only run into each other a handful of times. I don’t have much in common with Ben, but we get along better than he does with Xander these days.
It’s honestly painful seeing them in a room together ignoring each other, then trying not to ignore each other, then arguing when they do talk.
I’m not looking forward to this.
“Let me guess.” I adjust the strap to my bookbag. “You didn’t mention my brother would be there.”