“I shouldn't have kissed you like that. I shouldn't have told you.” She glances my direction with her ice-blue eyes, and I smile.
“It's always worth it to say something,” I tell her, and I really mean that. “I'm … not about making any decisions right now. I just want to deal with this Harper and Infinity Club stuff, and keep my grades up.”
“For what those boys did to you, they should let you date them all until you make up your mind,” Miranda says with a sigh, grabbing her lemonade and popping the straw in her mouth. They're biodegradable straws now, and dissolve in hot water. Miranda did a whole project on the environmental impact of straws last year for our bio class, and part of that was petitioning the schoolboard to make a change, which, fortunately, they did. “If you aren't going to pick me,” she pauses and smiles softly, “then at the very least, know that I am one hundred percent Team Creed.”
“I …” My cheeks flush with pink. “We're not talking marriage or anything, just high school crushes.”
“Yeah, so? Some love lasts forever.” Miranda turns to look at me. “My parents met in high school. My mom used to report my dad for smoking pot behind the school during class, and he hated her guts. They've been together ever since. I'm pretty sure Creed thinks your his soul mate or something.”
I snort, but Miranda turns to look at me with one brow raised.
“He mentions the hot tub at least once a week—”
I cut her off by reaching over and putting my hand across her mouth.
“Do not even go there,” I whisper, taking my hand back. Miranda watches me carefully for a moment, glancing at the door to see if anyone else might be coming in. There's a group of first year girls in the far corner, but they're all huddled together, and too new to cause any trouble.
She looks back at me.
“Um, I'm not sure if I should be telling you this …”
“Miranda, any sentence that begins with I'm not sure if I should be telling you this gives pretty good indication that you really shouldn't be telling me anything.”
“No, let me say this,” she continues, sighing, and reaching up to sweep some blond bangs from her forehead. “Creed is going to fucking kill me …”
“Miranda!” I blurt, but she glances up sharply, and I can see that I'm going to hear this, whether I like it or not.
“Creed is … well, he's sort of a …” Her voice trails off, and she curses a bit under her breath, unfolding and folding her napkin. When she goes to unfold it for the fiftieth time, I reach out and clamp my hand over hers.
“Stop that.”
“Creed's kind of a … virgin.” Miranda looks right at me as she says it, stealing my breath away.
“Wha … what?!” I chirp so loudly that the first year girls stop talking and turn to gape at us, equal parts fear and envy in their eyes. It's such a different way than I was looked at for the past two years that I'm not sure what to make of it. I reach up subconsciously and touch the opal earrings Creed gifted me for my birthday. I told myself I wasn't going to, but I looked up similar earrings online … and they're worth a lot. Not as much as a car, maybe, but these guys are all so rich, I don't necessarily equate more money spent to better gifts. I snort. “He is not a virgin.”
“Yes, he is,” she repeats, raising both brows. “I know he presents otherwise, but he is.”
“You don't know that …”
“Yes, I do!” she says, spilling her lemonade in her excitement. “We're twins.” She rolls her eyes, like this should be obvious. “He's a virgin. I know that for a fact.”
I suck my bottom lip under my teeth. I'm still not entirely sure I believe her, but if that's true, then Creed is one hell of an actor.
“Why are you telling me this? And you're right: maybe it wasn't your story to tell?” Miranda grins, and shrugs.
“True, but I felt like you should know. I mean, I don't think any of the other four are … I just figured it might mean something to you.”
I'm silent for a minute, and our waiter comes out with our orders. I'm seriously reeling from the info, and I have no idea what to do with it. Does that make a difference? I think back to the hot tub again.
“Anyway, like I said, if you're not going to pick me, pick Creed.” She pauses and waits for me to say something.
“You know I love you,” I tell her, and she sighs, hanging her head.
“But not like that?”
I stay silent, and we both pick up our forks to eat.
