Page 104 of How to Win the Girl

Drew laughs. “Bored. Annoyed. Interested.”

“Those three things contradict themselves.”

“He didn’t have to be here,” he tells me, drinking again from the cup of beer, a foam mustache appearing on his upper lip. “He’s here because he likes you.”

“He didn’t seem to want to be friends at your house. He barely said three words to me in the hallway.”

“That’s b’cause he’s freakin out. Trust me, I know my brother, and he’s here because he can’t stay away.”

“Then why is he ignoring us? He could come down here and talk like a normal person. He’s standing up there being all…weird.”

Drew laughs. “But if he comes down here, he’ll probably betray himself.”

That makes sense, I guess.

“Talk to me more about this theory of him liking me.” I take a sip of my beer, too, even though I hate beer, and it gives me major gas.When in Rome and all that—it’s not like they’re serving wine at frat houses these days.

Wine coolers, maybe.

“How do you know?” There’s liquor in my body, and it’s given me the courage to ask if Drake likes me—but not the courage to spin around and look him in the eye. “Specifically.”

Drew laughs good-naturedly, and it occurs to me that had this whole debacle not happened, there is a slight chance he and I would have met organically and had a chance to get to know each other.

We still have the chance now? The waters are murky.

Verymurky.

“I just do. Call it twintuition.” He isn’t watching his brother. “It’s this feelin’ we get sometimes. I feel the hallowness in my stomach he’s feelin right now, and I know he was up all night tossin’ and turnin’ ’cause I could barely sleep from it.”

He sounds so Southern right now from all thefeelin’ and turnin’ and tossin’.

I can feel myself grinning. He’s pretty stinking cute.

“Twintuition? Seriously? That’s a thing?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He scratches his chin. “I know he wants to say something. I can feel it.”

And I’m dying to look over at him to see if he’s actually staring over here.

“It’s odd that he’s hoverin’.” Drew’s mouth pulls down at the corner. “Maybe you should go on over there and do it for him.”

“Me!” The thought of waltzing over there makes me want to toss my cookies. “I can’t go over there and talk to him!”

“Why? You’ve been talkin’ to him for three weeks. It won’t kill you to march over there and give him a hard time.”

My mouth opens.

Closes.

“What would I say?”

His shoulders move up and down. “Don’t know. Maybe say you’ve gotta pee.”

I roll my eyes. “I should march over there and announce I have to pee? Nice. Great plan.”

We both laugh at how absurd it is.

“How about you just walk past and see what he does?”

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