Page 21 of Off Limits

Autumn rolls her eyes. “I can see that, thanks. Why is that upsetting exactly?”

“It’s not. That part was actually delightful. But the part where I invited him up to our room, making it clear you weren’t home, and he looked like he was searching for an escape from the poisonous snake he stumbled across before saying he had to do homework was … less delightful.”

“Oooh,” Autumn says, her voice full of sympathy. “Oof.”

“Yeah.” I stuff the rest of my cookie in my mouth and reach for another.

We eat cookies for several minutes while Autumn has a silent conversation with herself. She does this when she’s working something out, and it’s good entertainment, not to mention a distraction from my own circular thoughts. Her brow scrunches together as she considers something, then clears as she cocks her head to the other side, making her counterargument. She moves her head from left to right, her expression changing each time as she voices both halves of the conversation inside her head, her hands even getting in on the action as she gestures and points, her gaze abstract as she looks toward the blank TV. I wait patiently, a smile playing over my lips, watching her while I finish my cookie and waiting for her to loop me in when she’s done.

“So, am I crazy,” she says at last, her steady gaze returning to me, “or did we not decide that Simon was staying firmly in the realm of looking but not touching? Something about trying to get with your brother’s friend being a disaster waiting to happen?”

I cover my face again and flop back on the couch once more. “I knoooowww,” I wail. “We did. You’re not crazy.Iam, though. That’s the only explanation for what happened. Temporary insanity. I know he’s not into me. We bumped into each other outside of the library, and he offered to buy me cookies to apologize for ruining my date last week. It wasn’t a date. I knew it wasn’t a date the whole time. But when he was dropping me off at the dorm, I just thought …” I shake my head. “I don’t really know what I thought. I thought we were having such a nice time, and I wasn’t ready for it to end and going up to my room alone just sounded entirely unappealing. I wasn’t inviting him up to make out or have sex or anything. Just to keep talking. Butgod,he must’ve thought I was throwing myself at him and completely misinterpreting everything. He’s never going to talk to me again.”

Autumn pats my arm sympathetically. “It’ll be fine. Who cares what he thinks? Unless …”

I pull my hands off my face to see her face pinched—lips pursed, dark brows drawn together as she considers something. “Unless what?”

She shakes her head slowly and pulls all her hair over one shoulder, twisting the strands together. “Do you think he’ll tell Cal? I mean, it’s not like you see Simon that often anyway, right?”

“Right,” I confirm. “Last year, I think we spoke maybe twice. But”—I shake my hands in front of me, letting them flop around on the ends of my wrists—“he brings out all my weirdness. Last Christmas, I gave him a hug before Cal and I left to go home. A hug! That was the second time I’d been in the same room as him! Why did I give him a hug?”

Autumn studies me for a moment, her hands still holding her hair. “I don’t know, Ellie. Why do you think you gave him a hug?”

I cut a glare in her direction. “Because I wanted to. And I wasn’t thinking clearly. He short circuits my brain.”

She stares at me for a moment, her dark eyes searching my face as she contemplates my answer. “I think you like him,” she declares.

“Of course I like him!” I shout. “He’s a great guy. But he sees me on par with his ten-year-old little sisters. He’s nice to me because he’s friends with Cal. That’s all.”

Autumn moves her mouth from side to side, and I think she’s going to disagree with me and tell me I’m wrong, because she has that look on her face like she thinks I’m full of shit, but instead she says, “Do you want me to do a tarot reading?”

My eyebrows jump up my forehead. “A tarot reading? About what?”

She shrugs and stands. “About what you should do about Simon. We can ask the cards and see what they have to say.”

“Uhhh … I dunno.” I know Autumn has tarot cards, of course. I’ve seen them lying around a couple of times when I got home right after she’d finished doing a reading, but she always puts them away right away. The vision of her in long flowing skirts and a shawl—even though she’s currently wearing red leggings and an off the shoulder tunic top with a faded giraffe printed on it—sitting behind a table covered in a velvet cloth with a crystal ball sitting to one side and laying out cards like Death and the Hanged Man flits through my brain. Something must show up on my face, because she gives me a look that says she thinks I’m being silly.

“You don’t have to,” she says. “But I would if I were you. It’s helpful to clarify your own feelings a lot of the time.” She turns back to me, one finger over her lips. “Or …”

“Or …?” I roll my hand, indicating that she should spit out her suggestion rather than leave me hanging like this.

Another shrug, like whatever I choose makes no difference to her, even though I know she cares or she wouldn’t even be talking through this with me. “Or we can go to a party this weekend and see if we can find you a guy to take your mind off Simon.”

I open my mouth, but I’m not even sure what I want to say. “Are those my only options?”

“Well, I mean, you’re an autonomous human with agency and free will. You can do whatever you want.” She flashes me a grin. “But those are my best suggestions.”

Blowing out a breath, I slump and take a bite of the sugar cookie in my hand. “I’ll think about it and get back to you.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Ellie

It’s Saturday night and Autumn and I have torn apart our respective closets to find appropriate party wear. Though you’d never guess how long it took to put her outfit together to look at her. She’s got this effortless ethereal beauty going with her long wavy hair sporting a few small braids surrounding the crown of her head, the purple starting to fade so it looks more faded pink, an off-the-shoulder flowing crop top, booty shorts, and knee high boots.

And I’m … not effortlessly ethereal like she is, but I think I look pretty good, if I do say so myself. Rhinestone studded flip-flops provide cute and comfy walking, and they go well with the cut-off denim shorts and tight black tank with a plunging V neck. A red garnet dangles between my breasts—a necklace Autumn insists I wear. “It looks hot,” she says as she hands it to me, “and it’ll help you find what you’re looking for tonight. I promise.”

I’m not sure I buy the part about crystals being able to do anything but look pretty, but she’s right that it looks hot, so I don’t argue.

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