Chapter 10
637 Words
10
Lydia didn’t show up until after nine. Turns out there was some guest yoga instructor in town, and after Lydia taught her Saturday afternoon class she and the other yoga teachers at the studio got to sit in on a special session with him.
Since we were all in the living room by then, Lydia pushed aside the coffee table and demonstrated one of the new, advanced poses the yoga instructor taught them. It involved twisting her body one way, legs another, head a third way, if that’s even possible, which, apparently, it is. I couldn’t have gotten my body to do that even if someone took it apart and handed the pieces to me separately.
Lydia is . . . amazing. I’ve never understood why she doesn’t have a million guys after her all the time. She’s clearly the most beautiful girl at our school. She has all her mom’s dark exotic features—the long black hair, the dark eyes, the olive-toned skin—Will has them, too, except his hair just brushes the top of his collar, and by late afternoon his face always has the shadow of stubble—even more on the weekends when he doesn’t always have time to shave—and man, that guy is incredible-looking, but he’s never seemed to know it. Which only makes him even hotter, if that makes any sense.
But back to Lydia. And me. I’m sure a lot of people look at us and have no idea why we’re even friends. We have none of the same interests. In fact, to be truthful, a lot of our interests actually bore each other. She doesn’t care a thing for science, and until the vibration issue came up, I thought all of her yoga stuff was just weird and pointless.
But whether or not you have a lot in common with someone, when you’re thrown together with that person from the time you’re little, you can’t help but grow attached. Our mothers became best friends years and years ago when they started their non-profit company, Build a Fund for Good, and somehow the three of us kids just assumed we should all be best friends, too.
Or more than that, if a certain someone would ever open his eyes.
Which I’ve never told Lydia about. I have my reasons, mostly involving the fact that she’s not that great at keeping secrets—except her own—plus she’d probably laugh in my face if she knew how much I loved her brother. And even though they’re not that close, she might feel some sort of twin-inspired compulsion to tell him, which means I’d either have to die of humiliation or flee the state and live under an assumed name and never get to eat Elena’s food again. It’s just not worth the risk.
“How’s that bloke?” Gemma was asking Lydia. “What’s his name—Davey?”
Lydia narrowed her eyes. “How do you know about him?”
“Will told me.”
Lydia transferred her Evil Eye to her brother. “Thank you. You are now officially cut off.”
Will laughed. “Oh, come on. Big secret. You’ve been stalking him all month.”
Elena looked up from the button she was reattaching to a shirt. “Big secret to me.”
Lydia shrugged. “Guy from the yoga studio. Total loser. Move on.”
That’s about all I knew about it, too. One day he was the extreme object of her affection, the next day he was out.
Which seems to happen often with Lydia.
“If you need some advice—” Gemma started to say, and I immediately stifled a smile. Because I knew exactly what Lydia was thinking.
HAIRBALL.
But Lydia smiled sweetly. Fakely sweetly. “Yes, Gemma, please. Give me all your best advice. I’m sure my brother would love to know how you landed him.”
Gemma winked. “We’ll talk in private.”
And Lydia actually went along with it. She got up and the two of them went into Lydia’s bedroom and closed her door.
Will and I exchanged a look.
“Aren’t you curious?” I asked. “How she ‘got’ you?”
Big mistake. Because the last thing I wanted to see was the sly smile that brought to Will’s face. Or hear him say, “I know exactly how she got me.”
I wished I were back on a mountain.
- Writer
