Page 20 of Daydream

“We were trying to play musical chairs and the indestructible chair was apparently destructible when jumped on. My bad,” Mattie, Kris, or Bobby says. “Hi, Halle!”

It takes a second to realize he’s talking directly to me, and now everyone is looking at me. Henry is crouching on the floor, looking to see if the chair is salvageable, but stands up quickly when he also hears my name. “Hi—”Oh my God, what’s his name?“—there.”

“You can’t remember my name. I’m hurt. After we enjoyed that book together,” he says, tutting dramatically. “Hen, you clearly don’t talk about me enough.”

That book we read together is a very creative way of saying the book he googled before book club started. As much as I love a trip to Inglewild, if he read it before my impromptu book club meeting in this very house and wasn’t just trying to impress the members, I’ll give him my next paycheck.

“I never talk about you, Kris.” Henry shrugs in the nonchalant way he does. “It’s only important that she remembers my name.”

My God.

Concentrate, Halle. Six-foot, dark-haired white guy with a sort of hybrid accent that I can’t place. Big shoulders and back. Huge, in fact. Kris. Kris, Kris, Kris. Only two more to remember. Uh, plus all his other friends who also still seem to be looking at me.

“Do you hear yourself?” Aurora asks Henry.

“Usually. I can only drown one of us out at a time and I always pick you. Are we playing?”

Aurora bursts out laughing and gives him the finger, but I get what she means. There’s something about what he says and how he delivers it that’s just… hard to pinpoint why it sounds so good.

She bumps him in the arm playfully. “I see you’ve been taking notes from my dad. Emilia and Poppy will be here in, like, one minute. Can we just wait for them to arrive?”

“Sure.” He turns to me. “Are you good at beer pong?”

Oh boy. “Do you want the truth that will make you feel bad now or a lie that might make you feel good in the short term, but bad when you discover it’s a lie?”

“I always want you to tell me the truth.”

“I know the rules but I’ve never played, so I’m probably terrible.”

“I can fix terrible,” he says with a smile. He guides me forward until my back is to his front and takes my right hand that’s holding the Ping-Pong ball he gave me earlier. He leans in until I can feel his soft breathing tickling my neck, and his hand guides mine up into a throwing position. His voice is low and deep as he speaks just to me. “Does this feel comfortable?”

He smells like expensive aftershave, and his other hand is on my waist to gently move me into the right stance, and I’m having a really hard time concentrating, and… “Halle?”

My cheeks flush when a shiver shoots down my spine. “Yup. Comfortable.”

“It’s all in the wrist. Don’t overthink it,” he says as he guides my hand to throw the ball toward the cups on the other side of the table. I’m essentially a puppet again, for the second time tonight. “Perfect. You’re a natural.”

I’m vaguely aware of Cami returning with Poppy and who I assume is Emilia, but I’m focused on Henry. “Or you’re just a good leader after all.”

“See if you still think that in ten minutes. Because we are not losing to Aurora. I need you to bring your A game, okay?”

Someone starts filling all the cups with alcohol and I’m laughing to myself before I even speak. “Yes, Captain.”

Chapter SevenHENRY

IDON’T THINKI’VE EVERworked through a book this quickly in my life.

Flipping to the next tab, I read the parts that Halle has highlighted for me in blue, ignoring all the parts she hasn’t. When her redhead friend was leaving last night, and Halle drunkenly slurred she had something for me in her purse, I wasn’t sure what to expect.

When she returned, she handed me the book she’d borrowed, explaining she’d read it and highlighted all the parts I might find interesting or relevant.

I’m already halfway through the book when she finally wakes up, jolting up in bed, clutching the duvet to her chest. I watch as a dozen questions hit her all at once. Her eyes widen, teeth nibbling at her bottom lip as she considers what to ask first.

“Hello,” I say, breaking the silence between us.

She swallows hard and I nod toward the bottle of water and painkillers I left next to her. With one hand keeping the duvet pressed to her body, she collects the pills and drink, quickly taking them. When half the water is gone, she replaces the lid and stares right at me. “Did we have sex last night?”

I double fold the tab for the page I’m on and put the book down in front of me. Pointing to the half-deflated air mattress below me, I meet her stare. “No.”

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