8. Dannica #3
“That was very weird,” I agree.
“And yet,” she adds, eyes narrowing slightly, “you are glowing.”
“I am not glowing.”
“You are absolutely glowing.”
“I’m flushed,” I correct. “There’s a difference.”
“Your definition of ‘flushed’ is concerning.”
I roll my eyes, but it doesn’t quite land. My body is still too aware. Too… keyed up.
The music picks up, pulling people back into movement, breaking whatever spell had settled over the tent. The crowd swallows the space he left behind like it never existed. Like he never existed.
Except… he did. He definitely did. My body is still reacting as if he’s standing right here. “That was him,” I say suddenly.
Three heads snap toward me.
“Who?” Shelly asks.
“The guy from the diner.”
Silence greets me, then…
“Oh my god,” Shelly breathes. “I knew it.”
“You did not know it,” Quadri says.
“I absolutely knew it. I said there was a vibe.”
“You say there’s a vibe about literally everything.”
“Because there usually is.”
Mary’s watching me again, quieter this time. “You’re sure?”
“Yes,” I say, more firmly now. “It’s him.”
“How?” Quadri asks.
I hesitate because how do I explain the way he moved and paid attention? I shake my head. “I just… know.”
Shelly makes a small, satisfied sound. “Well, this just got interesting.”
“This is not interesting,” I say. “This is confusing. And mildly concerning.”
“And hot,” Shelly adds.
“And hot,” Quadri agrees.
“Yup,” Mary notes.
“Oh, now you think he’s hot but when you had to serve him you swore he wasn’t even cute.”
Mary rolls her eyes. “What’s in the past is in the past.”
Shelly grabs my shoulders and turns me toward her. “Focus. We are not letting this go.”
“I am actively trying to let this go.”
“Absolutely not. A mysterious man kisses you under fairy lights, then vanishes into the night, and you want to let that go?”
“When you say it like that, it sounds?—”
“Correct?”
“Like a cheesy romcom waiting to go wrong.”
Shelly shakes her head. “What are we gonna do with you?”
I groan, dragging a hand over my face. This is a lot, too much.
It figures I’d get the best kiss of my life while facing a life-changing decision about staying or going.
Way to go universe, you’ve messed with me enough.
And the worst part? A small, traitorous part of me doesn’t want to let it go either, which is deeply frustrating.
“Okay,” Quadri says, stepping in like she’s about to take control of the situation. “We approach this logically.”
Shelly snorts. “Oh, this should be good.”
“We gather information.”
“From who?” I ask.
“The town,” she says simply.
“That’s not ominous at all.”
“He’s new,” Quadri continues. “People notice new. Someone will know something.”
Shelly raises a finger. “I volunteer as tribute.”
“You always volunteer,” I say.
“Because I’m dedicated to the cause.”
“The cause being?”
“Your love life.”
I make a face. “This is not my love life.”
Shelly raises an eyebrow, then looks at the space where he disappeared, then back at me.
“Sure.”
I hate that tone.
“I’m serious,” I insist. “This is nothing.”
My body immediately betrays me by remembering exactly how his hand felt on my waist. Cool. Great. Love that timing.
“This is absolutely something,” Shelly says.
“It’s not.”
“It is.”
“It’s not.”
“Dannica.”
“What?”
“You’re arguing.”
I pause. Oh no. She’s right.
I am arguing, which means I care. It also means this is a problem. I exhale slowly, forcing my shoulders to drop, and my brain to catch up with the rest of me.
“This is a distraction,” I say finally.
Shelly tilts her head. “From what?”
“Everything,” I say, gesturing vaguely at the world at large. “The diner. Life. Responsibilities. All the things I actually have to deal with.”
Quadri watches me carefully.
Mary shoots me a sympathetic smile.
“And?” Shelly presses.
“And I don’t have time for distractions.”
That sounds reasonable and logical. It sounds like something a person who has their life together would say. It also sounds like a lie. Because the truth is, for those few minutes, nothing else existed, and I haven’t felt that in… I don’t even know how long. No, wait, I haven’t ever felt that way.
“That didn’t look like a distraction,” Shelly says softly.
I meet her gaze. “It was.”
Not that I believe it myself.
There’s a pause, then she sighs dramatically and claps her hands once. “Fine. We’ll table the emotional crisis for later.”
“I am not having an emotional crisis.”
“You absolutely are.”
“I’m processing.”
“Same thing.”
“It is not the same thing.”
“It’s the prequel.”
I glare at her.
She grins.
“Come on,” she says, looping her arm through mine. “We’re getting something sugary. You need sweetening up.”
“I do not need sweetening up.”
“You just got kissed by a mysterious man in a jester mask and abandoned in the middle of a fairy-tale moment. You need sugar.”
Ouch! “Okay, maybe a little sugar.”
Shelly beams. “That’s my girl.”
She starts dragging me toward one of the food stalls, Quadri falling into step beside us. Mary hooks her arm in mine. “There’s a reason for everything, you know.”
I nod. If only I knew what.