Page 31 of Brazen Criminals

“You saw a pretty face and assumed she was either a gold-digging socialite or a sweet but spoiled kid?”

Trips shrugs.

“You’ve met my sister, right? She doesn’t fit one of those boxes, does she?” I push.

“Your sister’s fucking cool.”

“What about Trish? She’s been around, helping RJ with his hair. Do you think she’s rocking that debutante energy?”

Trips grabs his phone. “You know what? Fuck you. I’m going to go work through some market analysis.”

“You don’t have to run away,” I joke.

He flips me off as he storms out. I finish my tea, fish one coaster from under the couch and the other from the chair cushion before cleaning my dishes. When I stick my head out the back door, the humidity nearly suffocates me—no outside time for me today.

I opt for the “better” way of dealing with my fluttery guts. I clear up the floor of my meditation space and cycle through a series of tai chi forms, settling into a rhythm with my breath and steps. The trance takes me as I flow from one form to the next.

The sun has dropped enough to shine into my eyes through the side windows by the time the door opens behind me. I breathe into the last three forms of the series before turning around to see who came in.

Clara quickly looks down, digging through her purse. I have good enough ears, even deep in meditation, to know that she was watching me. I grin. She can watch. I don’t mind one bit. “Hey,” I say, wiping sweat from my face with my shoulder.

“Oh, hi,” she says. She pulls her phone out of her purse, like that was her goal all along. “Um, what were you doing?” she asks.

I lead her back to the kitchen so I can get some water. I think I’ve been trancing for a while; I feel like I’m swimming back to the surface of consciousness still. “It’s tai chi, a kind of moving meditation.”

“Isn’t that for old people?” She gets us both glasses.

I take them and fill them up. “It’s technically a martial art, but yeah, mostly old people do it. My therapist in high school recommended I learn it. I have trouble focusing, and sitting meditation was not natural for me.”

“That makes sense. Do you like it?” she asks, her head slightly tilted. Her hair is back in a messy bun today, and she smells faintly like coffee.

I finish my first glass of water, then fill up a second. “When I started it, I hated it. I would have to get up early every Saturday and go do this stupid arm wavy thing with a bunch of senior citizens. But then I looked into the history of tai chi, and it’s really interesting.” I drink a bit more water, then add, “And my therapist was right. It helps me focus better.”

She smiles, and I can’t help but join her.

“Where were you all day?” I ask.

“I went for a run this morning with RJ. Say, do you know if it’s normal for him to be all friendly and then stop talking to you? I don’t know what I did wrong.” She looks all sad again, and I want to shake RJ. Doesn’t he know what a rotten few days the poor girl has had? And he has to get all weird about her being hot and single?

Trish told me she’d pushed girls at him all summer, and he still can only mumble while staring at his feet. She did say that he can speak like a normal human to girls that have boyfriends, so I guess that’s an improvement, but he’s twenty-one and has two little sisters. You’d think he’d have girl talk dialed in. I sigh and toss Clara a rueful grin. “He’s just weird sometimes. Give him a bit. I’m sure it’ll get better.”

She nods, still looking a little down. “What else have you been up to?” I go sit on one of the bar stools and kick out another one for her to perch on. She leaves her purse on the counter and joins me. “I went shopping with Trips, then I had work.”

I’m split—I want to hear what she thought about Trips buying her furniture, but the way she moved straight to work tells me she doesn’t particularly want to talk about it. “Where do you work?”

“Over at the Prancing Goat Cafe.”

“I love that place! They have great pots of tea for when you’re sick of studying at home.”

“Yeah. I brought home a couple of paninis we were going to throw out. I haven’t gone grocery shopping yet.”

She pulls two paper bags out of her purse, but when she goes to open the fridge, I realize we put all the leftover Indian on what is supposed to be her shelf. “You can put them anywhere for now. And you can eat any of that Indian food you’d like to. We have a ton of leftovers.”

“Yum, thanks. As a heads-up, my friend Emma is going to be here soon. If you catch her, can you send her back?”

“Sure. What’s your plan? A big night of party hopping?”

She laughs hard enough to snort. It’s ridiculous, but also a little bit cute. “No. No party hopping tonight. We were planning a movie night.”

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