missing | gilinsky

19

"She's going to find us in here," I whisper, finishing off the last of Nadia's egg-roll. We'll go out for breakfast tomorrow - without Nate - I'll treat her to something good. That way she can't complain. I walk over to the girls' closet and pull out a white t-shirt that I left in there from last time I stayed here, sliding it on.

"No she won't, she's not smart enough," Hannah assures me, flopping down on the bed.

I furrow my eyebrows. "She's not stupid." Hannah looks up at me and grins. Her eyes light up. "What?"

"You like her!" She places a hand on her chest and sits up. "I knew it!"

I force my face to cooperate with me and not heat up as if I've been standing in the desert for over an hour. "What makes you say that?"

"You got defensive when I said she wasn't smart, you didn't even realize it was a joke."

I shrug. "So?"

"Sooooo, it's so obvious." She singsongs. "Plus you got all fidgety and did a weird little dance while talking about her." Fidgety? Weird little dance? I did not.

"It's obvious you're looking way too deep into this." But she really wasn't, because truth is, I do like Nadia. A lot. But there's nothing I can do about it. Besides, I brought her to NY for Johnson, not for me. He'd be pissed if he knew I had feelings for his baby sister.

"You're such a bad liar." Hannah cringes. I roll my eyes and lean against the door. I can't help but wonder if Nadia's head is pressed up against it, listening to everything Hannah and I are saying.

"Why did you drag me in here if you were just going to insult my lying skills?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Hah!" Hannah shouts, loud enough to earn a stern glare from me. She lowers her voice before saying, "so you admit that you were lying."

"I admit that you're being irrational."

"You're the irrational one," Hannah says. "I dragged you in here so we could talk about Nadia."

"What does that even mean?" I know what it means. She wants me to get all mushy with her and talk about how much I like Nadia, tell her how cute I think it is when she wrinkles her nose and how pretty I think her smile is. And how I hate it when she's mad at me but also think it's kinda hot because I like seeing her all flustered. How I love the way her cheeks are constantly a tint of red, even when she's not embarrassed. I could go on forever mentioning everything I like about Nadia, but there's no way I'm actually going to say any of it out loud, especially to Hannah.

"You're such a turd!" Hannah complains. "She likes you back in case you haven't noticed."

This time I don't even bother trying to control the heat in my cheeks. I let my body get hot all over. My palms start to feel clammy. I'm such a girl. "You wish she did."

"Your wish has come true! I know she does."

"I'm not sure you're a reliable source."

"Well you obviously weren't a reliable source when you brought us here to live with the piece of trash in the next room."

I laugh. "Touché."

"Make a move already," Hannah says, changing the subject in a matter of seconds. I don't get how Nadia can stand her sometimes. When I first met her at the pool she was like this. Talking a mile a minute, not pausing to take a breath, wanting to let me in on every detail she could about Nadia's life since Johnson left. I still remember the look on Nadia's face when she caught us together. I smile, thinking about it, thinking about how mad she was. Look at us now.