“He thinks he’s a big shot, since they made him an officer.”
“As if we haven’t seen him passed out on a pool table after downing, like, sixteen Jell-O shots in a row.” I can practically hear Ophelia’s eyes rolling in her head.
Odette snorts. “Give a man a badge, suddenly he’s an upstanding citizen.”
“Ridiculous.”
“Totally.”
I manage to squirm free of the twins’ embrace, backpedaling until my butt bumps the counter. “Funny enough, Officer Tomlinson pulled me over for speeding the other day.”
They gasp in unison.
“In his defense, I was speeding,” I point out. This factoid falls on deaf ears.
“What a dick!”
“Total dick!”
“I’ll tell you what, we do not miss the Exeter boys.”
“We’ve moved on.”
“Upgraded!”
Odette winks in agreement. “To men.”
“Ones with emotional maturity.”
“And high-limit credit cards.”
The twins high-five.
“Good for you,” I say weakly, for lack of a better response.
A low cough sounds from behind me. I turn to find the solemn cashier staring pointedly, his hand outstretched for payment. I cast an apologetic look his direction as I fork over my cash, as if to say, Please do not lump me in with these two lunatics. He makes no comment as he opens the drawer to retrieve my change, but I can practically feel the waves of judgment rolling off him.
“So, Jo, what have you been up to?” Ophelia asks.
“Nothing much,” I say, turning back to face them, gummy bears cradled against my chest like a shield.
“Puffy eyes and a bag of candy,” Odette notes, eyeing my purchases with a shrewd gaze. “Guessing you had a rough night.“
I shrug. “I’m fine. Just hungry.”
“Your smeared mascara says otherwise.” Ophelia’s head tilts in contemplation. “Do we need to hurt someone?”
“Because we will,” her twin adds, a bit too eagerly.
A nervous laugh pops from my lips. “No, no. Definitely not.”
They trade a glance.
“Come on.” Ophelia loops one arm with mine. “You’re coming with us.”
“No, I—”
“Don’t protest,” Odette orders, attaching herself to my other side, so I’m effectively sandwiched between them. “We haven’t seen you in, like, ages. We’re going back to our place.”
Ophelia squeals again. “Girl’s night!”
“But—”
“No more buts, Valentine.”
“It’ll be fun, we promise!”
“Our parents are away in France for the summer. Plus, we have a metric ton of wine in the cellar just begging to be consumed.”
“You can tell us all about whatever stupid boy made you cry.”
“And then we can decide how best to punish him!”
I sigh as they drag me out of the store, into the night. I don’t bother putting up any more resistance as we walk across the parking lot, where their bubblegum pink Land Rover is parked beside my classic green convertible; a fittingly odd reflection of our mismatched friendship. I know from experience, it’s futile to deny the Wadell twins when they’ve fixed their sights on something. And, tonight, that something seems to be me.
Less than an hour after following the twins back to their house — a massive Tudor-style brick mansion with a series of soaring gabled roofs and a facade of dark timber framing — I’ve got a glass of priceless Dom Pérignon from the Wadell wine cellar in one hand and a store-brand yellow gummy bear in the other.
A perfect pairing.
Ophelia and Odette are sprawled on opposite sides of the enormous white leather sectional that dominates their parents’ living room, staring at me with identical expressions of incredulity as I catch them up on all that’s happened since I last saw them.
Geneva.
Oliver.
Brown.
Cupid.
Chris.
Archer.
When I finally trail off into silence, I take a large gulp of champagne for strength. The bubbles dance over my tongue and down my throat, exploding in my empty stomach like liquid fireworks. For a long while, the twins are quiet, sipping their own champagne as they process the load I’ve just dropped on them.
“Wow,” Odette says finally, draining her last bit of Dom. “That’s—”
“Intense.” Ophelia blows out a puff of air. “Especially the shit with Archer. No wonder you left. If I were you, I never, ever would’ve come back here.”
“I told you, I have to make a decision about Brown.” I shrug with a calmness I do not feel inside. “Otherwise, I probably would’ve stayed away forever.”
“You know what? Screw that. And screw Archer Reyes,” Odette says, sitting suddenly upright. “No idiot guy should have the power to scare you away from your home.”
“Or to keep you away from your friends!” her twin adds. “He’s not worth it. Especially when you have a new hottie to occupy your days!”
“And nights.” Odette winks.
I laugh awkwardly. “The thing about Ollie is…”
“What?”
“He wants to wait until he’s married to have sex.”
The twins gape at me.
“You must be kidding.”
“Josephine, please tell us you are kidding.”
I lift my hands in surrender. “Serious as a heart attack.”
“Wow. No sex until marriage,” Odette murmurs, like the thought is incomprehensible.
“Not even oral?” Ophelia asks, genuinely mystified.
I drop my head into my hands and groan. “Guys.”
“Fee, you’re embarrassing her!”
“I’m legitimately curious, though!” She looks at me pointedly. “Does he know you’re not waiting? Or is he under the impression you’ll be trading v-cards on your wedding night?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I hold up my hands. “Who said anything about getting married?”
The twins glance at each other. “He’s what, like, twenty-three?”
“Twenty-four.”
“Mmm. And you’ve been dating how long?”
“Eight months.”
“Mmmm. And he’s close with your parents?”
“I mean… He works at their company, so, yeah.”
“Mmmmm.”
“Stop mmmmm-ing!” I protest.
Ophelia waves away my words with a flick of her wrist. “I’m just saying… It smells like marriage to me.”
“It smells like nothing of the sort!”
Odette’s eyes narrow in thought. “You didn’t answer my question though. Does he know Archer already rounded your bases? Slid into your home-plate, so to speak?”
I squirm a bit on the loveseat. “He doesn’t know a thing about Archer. I didn’t see any good reason to share that particular story with him.”
“So, he doesn’t know.” Ophelia whistles. “That’s probably for the best. Men tend to place a lot of significance on our maidenly deflowering.”