Page 4 of Jump on Three

He barked a laugh. “You’re funny, kid.” Then he waved the scone like a prize. “I’ll let you know what I think.”

As he walked away, a chorus of snickers sent shivers down my spine. No part of me wanted to, but some unseen force turned me to see who was laughing.

Clarice Chin and Layla Abdo were right behind me and probably had been the whole time, based on how red their faces were.

I wasn’t friends with either of them. The opposite, in fact. But I had no trouble remembering their faces. They were as nightmarish as the leap into the pool.

“Oh my god, why are you so fucking weird?” Clarice chirped like a judgmental bird. Her voice hurt my ears like her vocalizations scratched my eardrums.

“Seriously. Get a grip, Kastanos. There’s no need to cry over baked goods.” Layla’s voice, on the other hand, was lower. Softer too. If I hadn’t been painfully aware of her capacity for evil, I would even say it was pleasant.

But I did know.

The sound of Layla’s voice meant nothing but trouble—and usually for me.

I blinked my dry eyes at them. “I’m not crying.”

Layla rolled her eyes. “Metaphorically, Jesus. You almost tackled poor Ryan over a scone. How embarrassing for you.”

Clarice elbowed her. “Why are we still talking to Creepelyn?”

Creepelyn. Layla not so cleverly thought up this nickname last year and had been jabbing me with it ever since. I hated that it hurt. That she had any sort of power over me, but there was no helping it.

Layla sneered. “I don’t know, but I’m thoroughly creeped out by her dead eyes. Ugh.” She looped her arm with Clarice’s. “Let’s go. I can’t look at her anymore.”

My stomach twisted as they brushed by, leaving me standing in the middle of the dining hall with my unwanted chocolate chip scone.

Layla and Clarice were awful, with next to no redeeming qualities, but they’d done me a favor. After speaking with them, I no longer had an appetite.

I found Delilah at our usual table in the bustling dining hall. She’d saved the seat on her right for me. On her left, basically attached to her, was her boyfriend, Rhys Astor.

I sat down, tossing my scone on the table and carefully setting down my tea.

“Good swim, darling?” Delilah asked.

“I didn’t time myself, so I’m not sure if it was good or bad.”

She leaned closer, speaking near my ear. “I was asking if it made you feel good, not whether it was successful, but I can see how you interpreted it that way.”

When she pulled back, I nodded. “Then yes, it was a good swim.”

I had one brother, Michael, who I felt next to nothing for. He was older, stupider, and lived in Europe near our parents, so we rarely saw him.

Delilah was my twin, and I felt everything for her. We were two peas in a pod. Nothing came between us. We’d become solely reliant on each other at a very early age. Our faces were mirrors. We weren’t identical, but close enough. Her features were more familiar than my own.

My sister was tough as nails with a tender core. Through her, I understood the world a little better. She softened harsh edges and sharpened fuzzy details. When we were younger and I’d needed protection, she’d stood in front of me. When we got older, I’d told her I needed to find my own way, so she’d started walking beside me.

Rhys leaned around her, catching my attention. “Knitting lessons after dinner. Don’t try to ditch me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Won’t you give up yet?”

“Why would I give up? I’m making progress. Admit it, I’m your most talented pupil.”

“My only pupil,” I reminded him.

He grinned. “Exactly. Let’s keep it that way so I can remain your number one. I need to be the star, Ev. That’s all there is to it.”

As of late, when Delilah walked beside me, Rhys walked beside her. I really wanted to hate him. His existence meant I had less time with my sister. It meant our duo often became a trio.

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