“Me too. But it’s so weird.”
“Exactly, like him.”
Summer smirks. “Says the person who made out with him.”
“So? You’ve never made out with a weirdo before?”
“You made out with Mike?” Rupi appears in the doorway, jaw agape.
Uh-oh.
For a second, I debate lying to the girl, until I realize how ridiculous that is. Who cares if I kissed Hollis? Besides, it’s not like he cheated on her with me. “I did,” I confirm. “But you don’t need to—”
“Ha!” she interrupts, her brown eyes twinkling. “I totally knew! Mike tells me everything.”
He does?
“And don’t worry, I’m not mad at you,” Rupi assures me.
“I wouldn’t have cared if you were.”
“Ha, you’re so funny.” She giggles, then asks Summer a yogurt-related question before darting into the kitchen.
“I wasn’t joking,” I tell Summer. “I wouldn’t have given a shit if she was mad.”
She snorts. “I know.”
My phone vibrates, and I commit a girls’ night faux pas by checking it.
JAKE: How’s it goin’ over there? Have you had a girl-on-girl orgasm yet?
* * *
ME: Not yet. So bummed.
* * *
JAKE: Not as bummed as I am.
Detective Di Laurentis is instantly on the case. “Who are you texting with?”
“Nobody.”
“Don’t say nobody. You literally just texted somebody.” Her green eyes light up. “Are you still secretly dating that Harvard guy?”
I almost blurt out how did you know before I realize she’s referring to McCarthy, not Jake.
“We were never dating,” I answer with a shrug. “We just hooked up a few times.” I hurry on when I see her opening her mouth. “That was Nate, okay? Relax.”
“Ugh. Say hi to him.” She looks disappointed that she hadn’t stumbled upon a major scoop.
If she only knew.
The other girls come back. Rupi is holding a plastic bowl full of a beige-colored mixture. She quickly teaches everyone how to put it on. “Are you wearing any makeup?” she asks me.
“No.”
Daphne glares at me. “Are you messing with us? You’re really not wearing makeup? Not even concealer?”
“Nope.”
“How does your skin look so good?”
“Genetics?” I offer.
“I hate you,” Daphne says frankly.
Under Rupi’s sharp eye, we all start slathering the weird yogurt concoction on our faces. “How long do we leave it on for?” Summer asks.
“Until it dries. No longer than ten minutes, though.” Rupi flops down on her pillow throne near my feet.
From the armchair, I grin down at her. “So what’s the deal with you and Hollis? Are you together now?”
“Of course we are.” She stares at me like I’m from a different planet. “We were together after our first date.”
“Does he know that?” Summer asks in amusement.
“Of course he does.”
I truly can’t figure out if this girl is delusional or—
Actually, there’s no “or.” I think she might be delusional, period.
“It’s been ages. We’re pretty much an old married couple now.” The freshman beams at me. “That’s why I don’t care about you guys hooking up. You weren’t serious about him, anyway.”
I needle her just because. “Maybe I was…”
“No.” Her confidence is astounding. “He’s not your type.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because he’s a puppy dog.”
“Who’s a puppy dog?” asks a male voice, and then the puppy dog himself bounds into the room. He yelps when he notices our faces. “Why the fuck are your faces covered with glue?”
“Of all the things you could’ve picked, why glue?” Summer asks in exasperation. “Why the hell would it be glue?”
“I don’t know.” He scans the seating situation, as if he actually has a choice about where to sit.
Rupi pats the pillow next to her.
I swallow my laughter.
Hollis lowers his big body onto the floor. Puppy dog, indeed. He’s wearing basketball shorts and a blue T-shirt that brings out the blue of his eyes. The shirt also hugs his impressive muscles, a sight that’s always a bit jarring for me. Mike Hollis is like an obnoxious kid in a hot guy’s body.
He slings an arm around Rupi’s tiny shoulders. “Yo,” he says.
I hide a smile. I swear, he’s so into her.
“See, you’re a puppy dog,” she informs him. “So silly and lovable.”
“I’m not silly and lovable,” he argues.
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not. You can’t compare me to a puppy. You gotta pick something good. Like a stallion.”
“You can’t be a stallion unless you’re super hung,” I crack.
Audrey snorts.
Rupi glances at me in horror. “Brenna! You can’t make disparaging comments about a boy’s penis. It’s damaging to the ego. Just because Mike doesn’t have a stallion penis doesn’t mean—”
“Why are you talking about my dong?” Hollis interrupts. “Which you haven’t even seen, by the way.”
“I’ve touched it,” she says smugly, before patting his knee. “I was just telling everyone that our anniversary is coming up.”
Confusion washes over his face. “We have an anniversary?”
“Yes. Our one-month anniversary.”
“It hasn’t been a month.”
“Well, it’s been almost a month—”
“Two weeks!”
“Twenty days! That’s almost three weeks.” Rupi studies his face. “When is our anniversary, Mike?”