Page 127 of Spearcrest Knight

She gives me a blank look, biting into her slice of toast. Butter gleams on her lips and she licks it off when she notices me looking. I continue quickly. “Well, New Haven isn’t too far from Boston.”

Her slice of toast stops halfway between the table and her mouth. She raises her eyebrows. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, if you wanted, you could work at my mom’s office in New York, and stay at my aunt’s house over the summer, and we could go visit Boston. You know. See Harvard before you start there in the fall.”

“We?” she says, her smoky voice low.

I meet her gaze and don’t look away. “Why not?”

She’s the first to look away. “How do you know if Harvard even accepted me?”

“How could they not?”

“How could who not what?” Adele says, gliding into the kitchen in a pair of pink pyjamas with her hair in unnecessarily dramatic rollers.

“Nothing,” Sophie says quietly, looking down.

“Do you think Sophie should come stay at Aunt Amelia’s house this summer? She’s going to be working at Mom’s office.”

“Oh, the New York office?” Adele says brightly, sitting next to Sophie. “I’ll actually also be in New York—I’m spending the summer there with Cedric. We could totally show you around. And if you’re staying at Aunt Ame’s house, we’ll come stay there for a bit too. Ugh, Sophie, she has such a good pool, and the summer in New Haven is actually gorgeous, not like a British summer—no offence.”

Sophie smiles. “None taken. You’re very kind, but I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You really wouldn’the intruding,” Adele says, pouring herself some orange juice. “Her house is massive, and she spends half her time visiting her friends in the Hamptons anyway. You should definitely stay. We can take you to parties! Actual American house parties.”

She leans closer to Sophie and lowers her tone conspiratorially. “You know, you’d be so popular with the boys. Your sexy voice and sexy accent combined would be game over.”

Sophie’s face goes bright pink and I clear my throat loudly. Adele winks at Sophie and whispers loudly. “We’ll go without Evan so he can’t cockblock you.”

I throw the strawberry jelly lid at her and she dodges it with a loud “Ew!”

I do my best to keep Adele away from Sophie for the rest of the week—unsuccessfully. It’s not until Saturday that I finally have some more time alone with Sophie. Mom, Dad and Adele have gone out to watch some corny movie, and Sophie and I spend the evening in the living room, playing chess.

“I didn’t know you could play,” Sophie says, watching me set up the board.

“Mom and Dad taught me, but I never took to it. I suck at thinking long-term and end up making a bunch of mistakes that bite me in the ass later.”

Sophie gives me the most comical dead-pan expression. “You do, do you?”

“Oh, ha ha. You’re so funny, Sophie. Like, the funniest person I know.”

“I probably am, as well,” she says. “Do you want to start? You might need the advantage.”

“At this point, I’ll take whatever advantage I can get.”

We’re sitting at the little chess table in the reading nook. The sun is just setting outside, lingering rays of pink sunlight fall across the table, shiny particles of dust floating in the slices of light. When Sophie leans forward to move one of her pieces, she crosses the path of one of the sunrays, and it makes her dark hair shine like rubies.

She’s very serious and overly competitive, given her clear advantage over me. My mind drifts idly back to the last time we played a game together, the Trivial Pursuit board, Sophie’s tipsy encouragements, and of course—

“Don’t do it,” says Sophie in a low voice.

I turn to give her a surprised look. “Do what?”

“Think about what you’re definitely thinking about.”

“What? How can you possibly tell?”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re gazing out of the window and have an expression on your face like some lovelorn girl in a period drama. It’s all very Anne Elliot pining for Captain Wentworth.”

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