"...right? Abby?"
I blinked, and the wooden library table came back into focus. Maddox gave me a concerned look. "Are you okay? You seem distracted."
"Yeah, I'm good. Just spaced out for a sec." I was a terrible tutor today. Maddox had already corrected me twice, and I was supposed to be the one helping him. I glanced at the notes and textbooks scattered across the table and tried to remember what we were talking about. "So, transcription is the process where DNA is converted to RNA."
"We... kind of already covered that. We're on translation now," Maddox pointed out, though not unkindly. Make that three times. His dark eyebrows furrowed. "Are you sure you're okay? Is... is it about Finn?"
I actually hadn't been thinking about my bone-headed brother, but the reminder sent a spark of anger shooting through my veins. Finn was still ignoring me. He had even gone so far as to tell me to leave him the hell alone, which, of course, made me want to do anything but. "Finn's just being his usual annoying, dramatic self. He'll get over it. Anyway, translation is when the mRNA gets translated into amino acids for protein synthesis."
Maddox scribbled that down in a notebook, then looked up again. "I think he's just hurt."
"What, that I have a life and don't have to tell him everything I do?"
"All I know is that he seemed more upset than angry when he talked to me on Saturday, but I was also, uh, not really paying attention."
I could read between the lines of that one. "Nice. So everyone was drunk out of their minds at this party. I'm surprised there wasn't a fistfight."
"You mean like when that skinny guy tried to punch Cairo at prom last year for supposedly hitting on his girlfriend?"
"To be fair, Cairo probably was hitting on his girlfriend." That was Cairo Ashford in a nutshell. Thrower of parties, provider of contraband material, and shameless pickup artist. Like Chuck Bass, but less evil. "Or when Felicity almost tripped into the DJ?" After pregaming too hard for prom, of all things. I was amazed Felicity hadn't gotten caught by the teachers prowling the edges of the room and looking for suspicious students.
"Yeah, and you and Rose ended up carrying her out of the dance while pretending she twisted her ankle." Maddox shook his head with a grin. "That was a fun night."
Judging by the silence that followed, I knew we were both thinking of the same thing. His face flushed bright red. "I didn't mean it that way— well, it was fun, but—" He cut himself off with an awkward laugh. "Sorry, I'll just stop talking now."
To my surprise, the familiar pang of regret didn't hit me at the memory of how things used to be between Maddox and me. I had spent months resigning myself to getting over the idea of what we had almost been. What changed?
Kieran.
The realization hit me like a razor scooter to the ankle. Or a soccer ball to the face. Somehow, the fake relationship with my brother's best friend had helped me get over something I didn't even know I was struggling with. Kieran and I had gotten close, sure, and he knew about my past, but that didn't explain anything. Rose and Felicity fit those criteria too, and yet it wasn't until recently that everything had changed.
But what did that mean? I felt like a donkey chasing a carrot on a stick. The answer was dangling right in front of me, and yet I couldn't find it.
Whatever. I would figure this out later. I smiled at Maddox, maybe a little too brightly, but he seemed to relax. "No worries. We should probably get back to studying, anyway."
He nodded. "Good idea. So, what happens after translation?"
"Well, you can have these things called post-translational modifications..."
Later, after Maddox had packed up his things and left, I headed to Homer's to catch up on some homework assignments. I could have just stayed in the Claremont Hill library, but I was seriously craving an iced vanilla latte. Besides, I was justified in buying a drink because I would be doing homework.
Or so I told myself. I had barely sat down at a table with the coffee and cracked open my tattered copy of Don Quixote when my phone buzzed. I wrestled with the instinct to ignore it, but eventually curiosity won out and I looked at the notification.
Kieran: are you done with tutoring?
Abby: just finished, whats up?
Kieran: I have something to ask you. can we meet somewhere? nothing bad, I promise
I frowned. That wasn't very reassuring. I wondered what Kieran wanted to talk about that couldn't just be said over text.
Abby: sure, i'm at Homer's if u want to join
Kieran: see you in 15 :)
Well, if he was going to fake break up with me, he wouldn't have added a smiley face, so I could rule out that possibility... probably. Besides that, I couldn't imagine what else this would be about.
With a shrug, I tried to refocus on Don Quixote. Our lovely protagonist, Don Quixote himself, was waging war against some windmills that he thought were giants. Apparently this was one of the most famous stories in the book, but to me it just seemed like Cervantes was on some kind of hardcore drugs while writing.
By the time my fake boyfriend strolled through the doors of the coffee shop, I had barely made it through half of the chapter. Kieran set his motorcycle helmet on the table and slid into the seat across from me with a grin. A couple dark curls of hair stuck out at odd angles, having gotten caught when he pulled the helmet off. "How's Don Quixote?"
"He's tilting at windmills, whatever that means."
"Oh, I love that scene. May I?" He held out a hand.
I gave him the book, already open to the chapter I had been reading. Kieran skimmed the page and cleared his throat. "Y, en diciendo esto, y encomendándose de todo corazón a su señora Dulcinea, pidiéndole que en tal trance le socorriese, bien cubierto de su rodela, con la lanza en el ristre, arremetió a todo el galope de Rocinante y embistió con el primero molino que estaba delante."
Privately, I thought I might actually enjoy the story if Kieran was the narrator. His accent slipped in as he read, softening the "s" sound into more of a "th" and lending a musical quality to his voice. I'd heard my classmates complain about how annoying the almost-lisp was to them when we watched videos in Spanish class, but I had always found it endearing.
He closed the book and slid it back across the table. "Sorry, couldn't resist."
"It's all good," I said, returning the novel to my backpack. "So, what did you want to talk about?"
Kieran ran a hand through his hair. I was beginning to realize that was something he did when he was uncomfortable or in an awkward situation. Finn was the same way, though he would then spend the next five minutes fixing all the hairs he had pushed out of place. Honestly, sometimes I swore my brother spent more time in front of a mirror than I did.
Kieran cleared his throat. "I need a favor."
I raised an eyebrow. "Do you remember what happened the last time we were here and you asked for a favor? That's what started this entire scheme in the first place."
He grinned. "It worked out, didn't it? Anyway, this one isn't that bad. I was just wondering if you had plans on October 3rd."
October 3rd... I racked my brains. The date sounded oddly familiar, but I couldn't remember what was going on that night. Then it struck me. "Wait, isn't that homecoming?" I narrowed my eyes at him. "Are you asking me to homecoming?"
"That's not exactly the reaction I would hope for if that were the case," he said, looking mildly offended, "but no. There's actually a gala downtown for some bigwig KC execs. My mother gets invited every year, and I wanted to see if you'd want to go with me."
"So you're asking me to a boujee version of homecoming."
"Well... yeah, I guess I technically am."
I mulled it over. Homecoming had never been my favorite dance, anyway, and this was a chance for me to leave a better impression on Kieran's mother. Even when this fake relationship came to an inevitable end, I didn't want Mercedes Valencia to hate her son's best friend's sister. "Sure, why not? As long as they serve good food."
He snorted. "It's a gala for rich people to show off how rich they are. I don't think there's any cause for concern there."
I'd served plenty of weird dishes to the rich patrons that came to my parents' restaurant, so I wasn't too sure about that. Then again, gala fare tended to be on the safe side. It was difficult to have a good event if everyone hated the food. "Fine, but if someone gives me a salad sprinkled with 24 karat gold or some shit like that, I'm out."
"I'll tell the chefs to prepare your salad specifically without the gold," Kieran teased. "Seriously, though, thanks for everything. I don't know what I'd do without you to help me get through this mess."
I waved him off nonchalantly, though secretly I was pleased by the compliment. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. You're lucky to have me."
His cheek dimpled as he grinned, and my heart fluttered at the sight. "Don't I know it."
————
It had taken approximately three hearty burgers, a bucket of ice water, two Gatorades, and a lot of Advil, but by the time Finn walked into the Sayed Atlantic office on Tuesday afternoon, he felt like he was back to normal. Which was good, because Kamilah Al-Haroun was coming next week to hear his and Seth's progress on the project they'd been assigned.
Sunday morning had been rough. It was a pleasant surprise to wake up with Eden next to him, though the churning in his stomach had quickly ruined the moment. He'd spent the rest of the day nursing a killer hangover, which refused to go away, despite the ungodly amount of Advil he'd taken.
The automatic doors slid open as he strolled into the air conditioned lobby. He nodded to the receptionist, footsteps echoing on the marble floor. It was the same guy with the gelled-back blonde hair who had been working on Finn's first day—after he got over the condescending attitude, Finn discovered that he was actually a pretty nice guy.
Now that he thought about it, that seemed like a common trend for people Finn interacted with. Was there something about him that made people dislike him initially? Maybe he needed to re-evaluate what kind of first impression he was giving off.
There was no one else in the office when he arrived, which was fine by him. He flicked on the lights and pulled out his computer, looking over the changes he and Eden had gone over last week.
An email notification flashed at the top of his screen, and he frowned as he read the subject line. You are formally invited to the 12th annual Nichols Gala...
Qadir had forwarded the email to him with a succinct message: Need you to go for SA. Please RSVP.
Finn glanced over the invitation. It was on the same night as his school's homecoming dance. He was on the homecoming court, meaning he was nominated for king, but he wasn't going to win; that title pretty much already belonged to his friend Ashton.
He felt a brief pang of guilt as he realized he hadn't spent that much time with his friends lately. Between soccer, this internship, and other schoolwork, Finn barely had time for a social life. The party last weekend broke his nearly month-long dry spell, and even then it was tame by his usual standards.
Was this what growing up was like? He sure as hell hoped not.
Finn looked at the gala invitation again. The event started at 6PM, at a venue downtown, just a couple blocks north of his parents' restaurant. He kind of wished he could just go to homecoming with his friends, but he didn't think Qadir would find a school dance a good enough reason to skip what was definitely a company event. Besides, as long as he didn't have to spend more than a couple hours at the gala, there was a good chance he could at least make it to the afterparty.
The door opened behind him, and Eden stepped into the conference room. Seth hadn't returned since he stormed out last week. Finn didn't know if the other boy was working in a different room, or if he had quit entirely. Nor did he care.
"Hey," he greeted cheerfully.
Eden's lips quirked up in a teasing smile. "You seem chipper. Finally recovered from Saturday night?"
He groaned. "Never let me drink that much again."
"In case you don't remember, you're lucky I stopped you from drinking more." She pulled out a chair and sat down beside him. A stray dark strand of hair fell in front of her face, and the gold bangles on her wrist jangled as she tucked it behind her ear and leaned toward him. "So, what's on the agenda for today?"
Finn realized he was staring and hastily refocused on his computer, which was still open to the email with the gala invitation. He glanced over the subject again, and then farther down, realizing Qadir had forwarded the email to Eden and Seth as well.
Before he could stop himself, he was wondering what would happen if he asked Eden to be his date for the gala. Were they close enough for that? After this weekend, he was pretty sure she'd say yes. Then again, maybe he would wait until they were done with work today before asking to avoid making things awkward.
Work came first, he decided. "I was looking over this spreadsheet of the different divisions of Capstone Energy and SA, and I think there's a way to minimize the number of jobs lost without affecting the company budget too much."
Eden pursed her lips thoughtfully as he elaborated. The two of them worked well together, with Eden providing much of the expertise while Finn brought a new perspective to things. He couldn't believe how much further he'd gotten on this project in just the week that Eden had started helping him... or how many mistakes she'd helped him fix.
By the time they were both ready to call it a day, Finn had nearly forgotten about his plan to ask Eden to the gala. He only remembered when he checked his phone and saw a text from Ashton asking him if he was going to homecoming.
He had no idea how to bring this up. When he'd asked Irene Caciora to prom last year, it had been a simple matter of sending a "hey do u want to go to prom w me" text. With Eden, things were a little more complicated.
The girl in question was zipping up her backpack and preparing to leave. As if she could sense his gaze on her, she looked up and met his eyes. She frowned at the look on his face. "Is something wrong?"
Before he could think too much about it, his mouth was already moving. "Do you want to go to the gala with me next week?"
Eden went still. "What?"
"I asked—"
"I can't. Sorry." She slung her backpack over one shoulder and stood up.
Finn blinked, taken aback at her brusqueness. "Uh, okay. So you're not going to the gala at all?"
"No, I just can't go with you, because I'm going with someone else."
Finn was a little surprised by the rejection, but he hadn't expected this to be the reason why. He'd thought the people attending this kind of event would all be posh middle-aged businesspeople. The only other person their age that he could think of was...
His stomach sank. "Seth."
Eden looked about as excited at the prospect as he felt. "Yeah. It's complicated, but we always go to these things together."
It took him a moment to identify the feeling that was twisting his insides into knots as jealousy. "Are you guys even friends?" The question had slipped out, sounding far more accusatory than he'd intended.
"We used to be," she said evenly. "Believe it or not, he was actually much nicer when we were younger."
Finn had a hard time thinking of Seth as nice, considering the other boy's holier-than-thou attitude and condescending remarks toward him, and he certainly didn't want to hear Eden talk about whatever past they had. "If you say so." He made an effort to get rid of the grudging tone in his voice. "Anyway, I just thought I'd ask about the gala. It's no big deal."
Was he imagining things, or did Eden look slightly apologetic as she headed for the door? "Thanks, Finn. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah, see you." The door swung shut behind her, and he blew out a breath. That had gone about as badly as humanly possible. At least the rejection hadn't been personal; there was a sliver of pride that clung onto that fact, though it did little to ease the sting.
If he told Abby what happened, she would probably just laugh at him. And considering he still wasn't fully over what had happened this weekend, that was the last thing he needed. With that in mind, he pulled out his phone and texted the only other person he could think of to talk to about all of this.
Finn didn't have to wait long for a reply. He grinned as he read the text and grabbed his keys, heading out of the office into the afternoon sunlight.
✰ ✰ ✰
AN: so sorry I have been MIA for the last month. the end of the semester kicked my butt but it is finally, finally over. also, idk what it is but I swear the 2011 MacBook pro keyboard is literally magical. it's just so much more satisfying to type on the older laptops than the new butterfly keyboard (do not get me started on how much I hate that damn keyboard!!) anyway, I hope to have an update by next week instead of next month (lol), and I wish everyone a wonderful holiday season! ✨