Page 42 of Stealing Sunshine

“I just thought I heard my roommate get home.”

“Right. Bryce?” She waits for me to nod before continuing. “How is that going? I don’t blame you for not wanting to stay with Johnny and Aurora. It was bad enough having to when I was down for Christmas.”

“Yes, Bryce. And they’re in love, Gi. I’ll suffer if it means Johnny’s happy.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “You’re too nice. He’s your twin, but it’s okay for you to still get annoyed with him when he’s being inconsiderate.”

“He hasn’t been inconsiderate.”

“Keeping everyone up at night with his sex noisesisinconsiderate.”

I reach down to touch my toenails. Once I’ve concluded that they’re dry enough, I tuck my chilled feet below my blanket.

“You sound jaded. When’s the last time you dated?”

“We’re not getting into my dating life right now.”

I lift a brow. “Oh, we’re not? Why?”

“Back to Bryce. You didn’t answer my question. How is that going?” she asks, putting the pressure on me instead of her.

I let it go. “It’s been good.”

“Good?”

“Good,” I reply coyly.

She leans close to the camera, trying to stare into my soul. “Nuh-uh. Tell me everything.”

I don’t have a chance. As if summoned by Giana’s demand, Bryce finally walks down the hallway. I lurch forward on the bed when she goes to pass my door without stopping, searching for a glance of her ugly work attire.

“Bryce?” I call.

She stops instantly and then takes one step backward, looking into my room. It’s her house, but she inspects the space like she’s never seen it before. I haven’t done much to it besides add my thin, cheap pillows, bedding, and thick blackout curtains. The desk was already here when I moved in, but I guess maybe it does look different with my schoolcalendar spread over it and my cup of pens and markers in the corner.

The two tubs of school supplies I’ve yet to bring to my classroom are shoved into the corner of the room, but she doesn’t pay that mess much mind.

“Hey,” she says once she’s finished looking around.

“How was work?”

Once I ask the question, I realize she’s not in the same clothes she was this morning. I’m instantly alert as I stare—or more like gawk—at her new outfit. I’ve never seen her in anything like this before. Short jean skirts, yes. But not tight spandex shorts that ride high on her thighs, exposing the exact curve of the peach tattoos she told me hurt to have inked, and a tank top that’s been chopped right under the bust.

My pulse quickens, and I snap my eyes upward, finding crystal-blue ones waiting. At first, I think she’s annoyed with me for staring at her, but when she slips inside my room, hovering at the door, I start to doubt that.

“Poppy dragged me to pole,” she says, explaining her outfit with a wave of her hand down her body.

“Ignore me one more time, Daisy, and I’m going to block your number,” Giana threatens.

I wince, remembering she’s still on FaceTime. Bryce cocks her head at the other voice in the room with us but doesn’t say anything.

‘Sorry, Gi. Do you want to say hi to Bryce?”

“I mean, it would be nice, yeah” is her answer.

Before I turn the phone, I focus on Bryce, waiting for her to shake her head or tell me outright she doesn’t want to speak with my sister. We’re supposed to be making it known that we’re together, but if she isn’t ready, I won’t push.

I’m still working on getting over the guilt that comes with the whole lying to my family thing, but I know they’d understand if they ever did find out the truth. Until then, they’re not going toknow that we’re not really dating. It won’t last forever, and once we’ve “broken up,” everyone will forget about it.

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