Page 93 of Wonderstruck

And if he ignors you?

I didn’t want to answer that right now.

Determined to figure him out, I grabbed aready-made cocktail from the table, the good stuff we’d asked Tristan to buy since he was twenty-one now. I straightened up, confidence radiating as I made my way over to him.

“Hi,” I said, studying his face for any cracks inhis forced smile.

He chuckled softly, as his eyes raked me up and down. As though I hadn’t been in the same room as him all night. “Well,” He smirked. “I don’t think I’ve ever craved a cup of coffee more in my life.”

Mybreath caught. He hadn’t texted me,or spoken to me in what felt like forever, yet he was perfectly fine flirting with me in front of our friends?Strange.

Testing him, I leaned closer, lowering myvoice to a whisper. “And I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to kiss Tristan more in my life.”

My skin buzzed as I waited for a reaction, forany sign that he was there, but nothing came. His expression didn’t change. No widened eyes. No flicker of jealousy. Nothing. It was almost as if he knew I was trying to read him. Or he'd gotten spooked and was beggining to back away again.

The noise from the room faded, like a blankethad been thrown over us, locking us in this spar that neither one of us wanted to yield from. Before he could respond, I spoke again. “Haven’t seen you much since the accident.”

And that got a reaction. It was subtle, but I’dspent that much time with this boy even the tiniest difference was noticeable to me. His weight shifted. His shoulders squared. His throat bobbed as he swallowed nothing.

I knew it. He was still shaken.

But just as quickly as it faded, his practised smile reappeared. “Missed me, Greene?” he asked, taking the glass from my hands and sipping it, his lips wrapping around the edges.

My legs wobbled as I watched him. His smirk told me he knew exactly what he was doing, distracting me—or trying to.

Before I could respond, Goldie appeared at myside, snapping me out of the spell. “Come on, it’s Twister time.”

I blinked, the sounds of the room rushing backin. “Twister?” I asked, forcing my gaze away from Finn.

“Jesse’s idea,” she said, rolling her eyes.

I stole one last glance at Finn. He only smiled, effortlessly cool as he leaned against the wall, like nothing in the world could touch him. Like nothing ever had.

But I knew better.

A weight settled in my chest as I turned to follow Goldie and the others into the kitchen. My feet moved, but my mind stayed behind—with him.

Whatever this was, it ran deep. I could feel it.

And I was going to find out why.

Just as soon as my limbs weren't tanlged with everyone elses.

Twister ended way quicker than any of usexpected. God knows what Tristan had put in those cocktails, but half of us were sprawled across the kitchen floor, giggling at absolutely nothing, clearly buzzed from our first drunk night together. I stayed perched at the table after my one and only round where I was sure I'd sprained my ankle. Again. But watching the chaos unfold as Cora, Jesse, Tristan, Goldie, and Daisy all became a tangled mess of limbs on the Twister mat was just as fun.

Until I remebered that someone was missing.

Finn had barely been watching the antics unfold, slipping out of the room at least half anhour ago, leaning in to whisper something to Tristan before disappearing entirely. The others had barely managed to untanglethemselves before diving back into another game, but I wasn’t in the mood to stick around. My gaze lingered on the doorway for a beat too long, my mind wandering to him, to that fake smile that hadn’t been fooling me all night.

I stood before I could overthink again,weaving my way through the mess of chairs and fallen deorations, and ventured into the house to find him.

But I wasn’t searching for long.

Turning into the hallway, I stopped in my tracks. He was sitting on the stairs, right in the middle of the staircase, clutching his glass like it was the only thing keeping him steady. His head was tilted down, his expression soft, almost sad. That confident version of him from before gone entirely. But the moment his eyes met mine, the mask snapped back into place.

His smile bloomed, easy and charming, butbrittle. Far from the real thing.

“There you are,” I said, my voice light butsearching. “Hiding out?”

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