Chapter Eighteen - Thalia
I COVER MY mouth to try to hide my laughter. Bash let me take his car to the airport to pick up Penelope; he made me promise I wouldn’t crash it, but it took some convincing. I’m not sure he was complaining about my methods.
I’m starting to question the level of intelligence my brother has, because Owen hasn’t picked up on anything. It’s only a matter of time before we get caught, but hopefully, we can make it to my birthday. Except we’re not exactly being very careful. I fell asleep in Sebastian’s room last night and barely made it out this morning before Owen woke up.
However, watching Penelope meet Owen and Sebastian has me forgetting all about the close call this morning. Penelope leans up to kiss Sebastian’s cheek in greeting, but he backs away so quickly that he nearly trips over his feet as Penelope laughs before moving on. Owen is at least more prepared for it than Bash, but I can tell he is still shocked.
“Have you never met anyone that’s French?” she asks in her thick accent, and Sebastian looks at me wide eyed.
“I think you scared him,” I say to Penelope in French, and she laughs, nodding her agreement.
“I think so.”
I look at him, trying not to laugh at him. “Bash, that’s how people say hello in France. You can relax.” Sebastian is still looking at me like I’m trying to trick him.
Owen looks at me in shock. “That’s how everyone says hello? Damn, I should have gone to France with you.”
“We have fun in Paris. You Americans take everything so seriously. It took Thalia forever to completely understand,” Penelope says, and I grab her bag to drop off in my room since she’ll be staying with me. Realistically, it’s doable for a few weeks because it’s not like I sleep all that often anyway. I’m sure I’ll end up in Sebastian’s room most nights since his mattress is more comfortable than mine.
“It didn’t take me that long,” I point out, disappearing momentarily. When I walk back into the room, she’s telling some story about profiteroles, my favorite pastry.
“Madame Thomas said that with the amount Lia spent there on the profiteroles daily, she could have opened a whole new store.”
“Penelope, what exactly are you telling them?” I ask, plopping down next to her on the couch.
“Just how much you love food.” She winks at me, and I roll my eyes.
“Because the food in Paris was the best. None of the processed shit we have here. You’re going to be so disappointed by the options,” I warn her, and she grabs my hand.
“I’m just glad to be here.”
I could almost cry in relief with how happy I am that Penelope is in front of me. There’s so much to fill her in on.I can hardly keep track of what I’ve covered and what I haven’t.
“As heartfelt and fun as this is, I promised Blake I’d pick her up from the airport.” Owen stands up, and I’m confused.
“I didn’t know she ended up going. Wait—why didn’t you go with me when I picked up Pen? We could have waited for Blake’s flight to get in,” I ask, and then it dawns on me. Owen didn’t go with me because he wanted to pick her up. That idiot. She has a boyfriend. At least, I think she still does. I can’t keep up.
“Who is Blake?” Penelope asks, and I switch to French quickly. I have a feeling that a lot of my explanations will need to be in French.
“This girl you’ll like. Owen is hopelessly in love with her, even though she just went on a last-second trip to visit her boyfriend. My brother enjoys torturing himself.”
Owen flips me off, causing Sebastian to snort. “I don’t want to know what you told her. It’s probably not true, but whatever. I’m taking your car, Bash.”
“Fill it up with gas; keys should be on the counter.”
“You didn’t make Thalia do that,” Owen complains, and I hide my triumphant smile. I didn’t have to fill it up because I didn’t tell him I was taking his car. I asked. Personal growth is a funny thing.
“Thalia didn’t insist on picking up her friend by herself after a trip to the airport had already been taken on the same day. An Uber would cost more if you want to go that route instead,” he says in a bored tone, and I stick my tongue out triumphantly at Owen.
Owen rolls his eyes at his best friend. “You owe me.”
“I don’t owe you? You’re putting miles on my car because yours is in the shop again.”
“She just needs a little more help than other cars, low blow, man.”
“If I were trying to hit you below the belt, I’d comment on how you should shave your beard.” Sebastian scrolls on his phone absently, and I push Owen out the door before he’s late picking Blake up.
“Bring her back here; we’ll try to stay awake, but no promises. Good luck!” I’m trying to be nice, but all it earns me is an annoyed look. I can’t say I’m sad he’s leaving because now Penelope gets to meet Sebastian again as my boyfriend.
I practically skip out into the living room to find them chatting, and I sit next to Sebastian this time. His hand rests on my knee, giving me a knowing look. “I’m assuming she’s the only person we don’t have to lie low around?”
“I’ve been listening to Lia complain about you since I met her. Your secret is safe with me.”
“I don’t know if I even want to imagine what she has told you about me. I’m assuming I’ve been called an asshole a lot? Wait, what is it that you like to say? Sebastian un connard?”
He doesn’t completely butcher it, but hearing him say it about himself is funny. “Sebastian est un connard, but close enough. It was only a few times; I kept telling her it was pent-up sexual frustration,” Penelope corrects him politely.
One of my favorite things about Penelope is what you see is what you get.
“And I’m pretty sure I denied it every time you said it,” I pipe in, leaning into Sebastian as he wraps an arm around my shoulder.
Penelope smiles warmly at us. “You still climbed him like a tree. She gave you a glowing review.”
“I guess that’s good to hear.” Sebastian laughs easily, smiling down at me. It’s the happiness in his shining eyes that gives me a funny feeling in my chest.
I feel my cheeks flush at the reminder. It’s unbelievable how good things are between us. Truly crazy. “Can we start taking bets when Blake and Owen will get together? I mean, if she and her boyfriend aren’t together anymore?” I ask, changing the conversation topic.
Bash hesitates, and I can feel the subtle shift. “You know something.”
“I do not.” His response is suspiciously delayed.
“Oh, you totally do. Spill.” I shift, turning excitedly to face him.
“Bro code. I really am not supposed to tell you this,” Sebastian protests. It’s a funny idea to try to pull bro code now. I wonder what Owen will think of bro code when he learns the truth about us.
“But you want to tell her,” Penelope hedges, leaning forward eagerly.
“Is it going to involve Owen getting hurt?” I question, choosing against commenting on the stupid bro code.
“Potentially,” Sebastian answers vaguely. He shakes his head, swearing under his breath. “He’s started talking to Amelia again. I don’t approve, but I can’t exactly tell him what to do. I’m secretly dating his little sister,” he reminds me as if it’s something I could have forgotten. I wonder if he’ll ever see me as someone other than Owen’s sister, even now that we’re together. I don’t want to feel guilty about us. Maybe it was the wrong thing to suggest we keep it quiet until after my birthday.
I push the thought out of my mind to explain Amelia’s role. “Owen’s ex-girlfriend that cheated on him. We were in…I think Barcelona when I found out?”
“Yes! That’s right. Okay, wait—why is he with her again if she cheated on him?”
I look at Sebastian because that’s an excellent question. Why is he talking to her again? “I don’t understand. Owen said he wanted nothing to do with her.”
“Thalia, English.”
Oh hell, that will be said a lot in the next few weeks. “Never mind, when did this happen?” I rephrase my statement.
“Sometime recently. He knows how I feel about it, so he doesn’t talk about her much.” Sebastian clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the current trend of the conversation. “So, Penelope, how were you able to come a week early? Wouldn’t that make your stay like three weeks long?”
“I’m a free spirit; I tend to go wherever, whenever I want,” she says, crossing her legs in front of her. “I’m not sure if I’ll stay the full time, but I was sick of waiting to see ma chienne préférée.”
I can’t help but laugh because she just explained herself perfectly. Penelope is a free spirit, and I can’t imagine a better way to describe her. It’s why we get along. I lean into Bash again, enjoying how it feels to be held by him without feeling like we’re hiding, at least until Owen returns.
“I think I’m jealous you have nothing tying you to one spot. I’ve always wondered what I could do if I didn’t have so many responsibilities,” Sebastian admits, and I didn’t know that’s how he felt about here. What’s tying him down? Mimi is here, but she’d never ask him to stay in one place for him.
I don’t know all that much about him anymore or what happened in the year I was gone. I’ve known him since we were kids, and we were friends when we were younger. Then, this whole ignoring thing started once Owen and Bash got to middle school, and I became Owen’s annoying little sister.
Since coming to Duke, it’s been a mixture of kisses and insults.
We’re in the honeymoon phase, where we can’t keep our hands off each other when we’re alone, which doesn’t leave much time for talking. I want to know more about Sebastian, moving past the surface-level things.
“It’s a great way to live, but it can get old. Where are we going tonight?” Penelope asks, and I’m confused. Were we supposed to be going somewhere tonight?
“To bed? Dude, it’s a Sunday night. Bash has weights in the morning for football, and I have class.”
She juts her bottom lip at me, pouting. “Ma chéri, when did you get so boring? We have to celebrate being together again!”
“I promise, Lia is not boring.” Sebastian chuckles, shaking his head as if this idea of me being boring is ludicrous. “Owen has a bottle of tequila under the ice packs at the bottom of the fridge; I can babysit.”
“That’s not how this works. If I’m drinking on a Sunday, so are you.”
Penelope is already on her way to the kitchen to find the said bottle of tequila. “One drink,” he promises, leaning forward to press his lips against my forehead, making me forget his comment.
“We will see. Penelope is good at getting her way. It’s hard to say no to her. Why else do you think I have a tattoo of a sun?”
“I’m not sure, but I can’t say I don’t enjoy the placement of it. You’re pretty sensitive there,” Sebastian teases, and my cheeks burn. “She’s fun. I like her.”
“Good.”
Penelope comes back out with a half-empty bottle and no glasses. “We’re drinking straight from the bottle tonight.” She smiles innocently. “What? I couldn’t find your glasses.”
She takes a pull straight from the bottle without even flinching. “Bash, this is exactly why my partying days are slowing down. It’s not a real party until you’re with an eccentric French woman,” I warn as she passes the bottle to me for my pull.
Tequila is not my liquor of choice, but it’s effective. It burns going down, and I can’t help coughing at the revolting taste. I feel better watching Sebastian’s face after he takes his pull. I lean over and kiss him briefly. “Better?” I ask, and he smiles softly at me, his dark eyes crinkling with happiness.
He kisses me again. “Better now.”
It’s silly how happy I am now with my favorite person and boyfriend. It still seems wild calling Sebastian my boyfriend. I never would have thought this would be my reality. How was I supposed to say no when he asked me to give him a chance? He was telling me he thinks about me all the time and that if I didn’t want him, he’d respect my decision. The only logical answer was to say yes. We don’t have to hurt each other anymore.
“Lia, I’m disappointed. You used to do so much better than that,” Penelope scolds. I settle under Sebastian’s arm, savoring the feeling.
“Last time I got shit-faced to the point where I could take shots without flinching, my brother told me what a child I am and how embarrassing I am to him. I choose not to have that argument again. Owen will be back at some point.”
Penelope frowns, taking another drink. “What happened to you since you left Paris? This is not the Thalia that spun on a stripper pole with me a few months ago. You’re domesticated now.”
Sebastian sputters in disbelief. I can’t even try to deny it because we did do that. “I’m sorry—you did what? I thought you were there for photography, and you danced on a stripper pole?”
“Give me that bottle back.” I motion, and she hands it over happily. I drink until it threatens to come back up, shuddering again at the taste. “That tastes terrible.”
There’s a knock at the front door, and I groan, pulling out of Sebastian’s arms. I really don’t want to. Selfishly, I hope it’s not Owen because I don’t want him to be back yet. It shouldn’t be him because the only reason he’d be back already is if he forgot something and had to turn around.
Shit, I shouldn’t be leaving Penelope and Bash alone because I’m sure he’s going to ask about the stripper pole again. My head is starting to feel a little fuzzy; I’m regretting that last drink, just like I’m beginning to regret the stripper pole. “Owen, did you forget your key again—” I falter, seeing Vera stand there instead of my brother. What the hell is she doing here? “What are you doing here?” I ask, my stomach dropping, because this changes the entire dynamic of the night.
“We planned a movie night forever ago?” Vera asks, but I don’t remember ever making these plans. Did we talk about it when we went shopping?
I look back behind me, hearing Sebastian and Penelope laugh. “Shit, I’m sorry. Can we do a rain check for another night? Penelope just got here, and we’re catching up—”
She lights up immediately. “Can I meet her? All your stories about France make her sound like so much fun.”
How am I supposed to say no? I did make her sound like fun. I should have tried harder to make Penelope sound boring. “Sure, come on in. She’s a blast,” I say, forcing a smile to open the door wider to let her in. I shouldn’t be upset that she’s asking to come in, but I am.
I follow Vera to the living room, where Sebastian and Penelope still pass the bottle back and forth. I try to keep the disappointment out of my voice. I watch as Vera sits next to Sebastian, and I hate that it makes me jealous. “Penelope, this is Vera.” Penelope smiles politely and offers me the bottle again, silently understanding that this was not part of the plan. I’m not getting drunk tonight, but I’m certainly not staying sober for this.
On one hand, I’m glad they’re meeting, but on the other hand, I’m being selfish for wanting to have Bash be something other than my roommate or my brother’s best friend for a little bit longer tonight.