Page 24

“Nova,” she admonishes. “We communicate almost entirely in glances.”

There’s an involuntary jump in my chest that makes the hair on my arms prickle.

Well, yes, I suppose I do steal glances at her now and then, but am I so transparent that she noticed?

Ugh, FML. There’s something acutely humiliating about being called out like this.

My skin itches uncontrollably. I want to peel off my jacket and throw it far, far away.

Or just hold it in front of my face like a shield and pretend she can’t see me.

Oh my god, I’m so pathetic. It’s getting harder to hide my feelings from her.

“Daggered glances,” Kiara says, “in your case.”

Oh. Those kinds of glances.

A lump of something that feels an awful lot like disappointment gathers in the pit of my stomach. This is good, right? That she is totally oblivious to any other looks? That she’s never caught me? But if my secret is safe, then why does it feel so…bad?

“Maybe I’m just obsessed with you,” I say flippantly. “Ever think about that?”

“Yes. All the time.”

My eyes fly to hers, but her gaze is down, smoothing the torn plastic wrapping into neat little squares to put away.

She’s so meticulous that for a long moment, I can do nothing else but watch her.

It’s adorable how much she cares about those straight edges and crisp folds.

Kiara Mistry is tidy. Nova Marwood is mess incarnate.

What a weird, irrelevant, totally random thing to muse.

“You should see my bedroom,” I find myself saying before I can think it through. “I don’t think I’ve properly made my bed since I was a kid.”

“You mean if I should ever find myself so lucky as to be in your bedroom, you’re going to put me to work?” asks Kiara.

My entire brain slips into slow motion. Kiara. Mistry. In. My. Bedroom.

She laughs. Actually laughs .

The sting of humiliation hits me, and I hold absolutely still, willing myself not to show how much her amusement hurts my feelings. “Got a problem with earning the privilege, Mistry?” I snark, thoroughly embarrassed. “With something not delivered to you on a silver platter?”

I imagine Kiara as the lady of a grand estate, seated at the head of a long dining table, servers presenting Radhika, Keiffer, Evan, and Tayla like courses of a lavish meal.

She gets everyone she wants without even having to try.

Fine, she’s everyone’s uncontested dream girl, but how unappealing am I, exactly, that not one of her friends ever even considered me?

Kiara’s the one who kissed me, and even she never made that mistake twice.

The spiky humiliation descends into full-blown rejection.

Logically, I know she didn’t reject me, but it feels like she did.

Kiara is lucky in life, period. Her parents are still together, happily married.

She’s gorgeous and thoughtful and the kind of friend-slash-ex that inspires her other friends-slash-exes to go on a literal quest for her sake.

She’s the textbook definition of good luck.

Unlike me, she’s gone through life unscathed. Or at least that’s how it looks.

Kiara fixes me with an indecipherable look. “You’re no open book, Nova Marwood. You’re hard fucking work.”

“Relax.” I bestow her with my evilest smile. “You’re not invited to my bedroom.”

She smiles back. “Don’t want me to see the giant ‘I Heart Kiara’ posters you have up?”

I think about the crappy drawing of Kiara we once threw darts at in the tree house. It was in the wake of Keiffer and Kiara getting together and my ensuing pity-slash-petty party. “My only problem with you is you always get there first.”

Her smile wavers. “Get where?”

Kiara’s confusion only makes it worse.

Pushing past my discomfort, I brandish the poles at her. “Let’s just do this.”

“There you go, trying to put me to work again.”

I snort. “Don’t try to be cute.”

“Nova, I don’t have to try ,” she says with exaggerated slowness.

“Go on, then.” I gesture. “Impress me.”

The way Kiara leaps into action is both an art form and an Olympic sport, if I’m being honest. I watch her fingers fly with nothing short of awe. Kiara Mistry being good with her hands is brand-new information, and how did I not know this?

With a catlike fluidity and grace, she rolls out the juniper-green tent and ground pad, secures the stakes, and attaches the rain fly to the rods and then the thicker canvas-type of cloth on top.

I just hand her things and do what she tells me, which, for some reason, isn’t anywhere near as irritating as when Tayla does it.

Her competence is actually really attractive, and that’s not even the most attractive thing about her.

I can’t believe I find myself thinking this, but I can’t even stay mad at her. Luckily, she doesn’t seem to hold my prickliness against me, either.

“How’s the tension?” Kiara asks.

“Nonexistent,” I tell her honestly. When it’s just me and her—none of her exes around as a reminder—it’s easy to find her funny and smart and kind and forget that she’s dated everyone I liked before I could.

And now that I’m spending more time with all of them than I ever did before, I can’t even remember why losing to her bugged me so much.

Not even a little bit begrudgingly, I say, “It’s a lot better than I thought it would be. ”

Her smile is awkward, unsure. “What do you mean? I told you I was good at this.”

“Good at relieving tension…?”

She gives me a weird look. “Without tension, the tent would have collapsed by now. Are you paying attention, Nova?”

Oh, that kind of tension.

“I, uh…” I give the tent a cursory look. It’s still upright, so I’m assuming the tension is fine?

“I’m going to start on the next tent,” Kiara says.

“Can you check the tension on this one? There are Velcro straps in the corners. Just cinch them around the poles extra snug. It’ll help strengthen and stabilize.

It’s not windy enough to need the guylines, so you can ignore the loops on the rain fly. ”

Do I tell her I have no idea how to do that and look even more useless? I mean, I theoretically understand everything she just did, and I know what tension means, but the rest of it is just random words.

I’m a little embarrassed by how little I know, but I’d been so young when I’d gone camping with my dad that I hadn’t been able to do much more than pout and make half-hearted attempts at putting the tent up, despite his encouragement.

Finally, he’d just done it himself, expecting I’d watch him and learn, like an intrepid little sponge.

Kiara managed to put shelter together far more efficiently than I could have, matching Dad’s speed, and even though she’s looking to me to double-check her work, it’s probably fine, right?

I mean, she could do this in her sleep. I’d rather bite off my tongue than tell her I’ve never had to do this on my own before.

“Sure,” I say. I walk around the perimeter of the tent, nudging at the stakes, making sure the fabric is stretched taut, the tension even on each pole. The Velcro straps are easy to attach to the poles, and I’m reasonably sure the tent will stand up to a gust of wind.

Working efficiently, we get all three tents up and still have ten minutes to spare before Tayla, Radhika, and Keiffer are supposed to be back. Each tent will fit two people, and since Kiara provided them for us, I assume she’s going to hand out the sleeping assignments, too.

“Where should I…?” I gesture at the tents.

“You can share with me!” she says cheerfully, bending over to brush some dirt off her knees.

“Come on, this one.” She tugs at my hand until I follow her inside with our bags.

It’s cozy, warm from proximity to her body heat.

I can’t imagine how much cozier it will be when we roll out our sleeping bags for the night.

“Me?” I try to sound cool and unaffected, but I can’t control the surprise in my voice any more than I can control the sudden quiver in my belly.

Kiara seems to take my agreement as a given because she nods and says, “Radhika and Keiffer will be together, of course, so I’m all yours.

Do you mind just hanging around outside for a bit?

I want to change out of my clothes and use one of our biodegradable body wipes.

I’m all grimy.” As if to prove her point, she rubs the back of her hand over her cheek, leaving a streak behind.

I scramble to my feet. The tent has turned into an inexplicable vortex, and if I stay here for a minute longer, I might be tempted to…

I don’t even know what. But being within arm’s reach of Kiara—joking about my bedroom , of all things, let alone tonight’s sleeping arrangements—makes the ground shift, my axis tilt.

And doing anything about it is out of the question, obviously.

“Yeah, of course,” I babble. “I’ll go see what Evan’s up to.”

I take the walkie-talkie with me as I step into the dimming purple twilight.