“I think that’s two to zip, sistah,” he said, inches from my face, then stood up and walked away.

What was wrong with me? I silently thanked him for calling me his sistah. It reminded me of our history. Our years of history. I clenched and unclenched my hand. It felt hot. Every inch of me felt hot. I needed to stop the way my body was reacting to Braden lately. We were friends. Too close to ever want to explore these stupid new reactions and risk losing him forever. I stood and practically ran out of the house.

If I thought the previous week of makeup was bad, this week was nothing short of torturous. Two hours! I kept track this time. How could a person spend two hours working on my face? Granted, there were a lot of questions and much more makeup. I could see my eyelashes when I blinked. It was weird. But two hours? I could’ve played an entire basketball game in that time, with time-outs, halftime, foul shots, and everything.

Her friends from last week met us after the session was over.

“I’m going to wash my face,” I said, pointing toward the back. Maybe they would forget about me and leave while I was gone.

“No way. We are going out as the beauty queens we are,” Amber said, grabbing my arm. “You look amazing. Don’t touch my work of art.”

Or not.

Chapter 16

We sat in the corner booth of a café, drinking iced drinks and talking. Well, Amber the Olympic talker was doing most of the talking, but I was surprisingly entertained. And not just because a Cubs game was playing on the television mounted in the corner. We talked about the last books we’d read and the subjects at school we struggled in (math for me). I was actually able to contribute to those conversations. So maybe they weren’t much different from my teammates and me. Then we moved on to boys.

“I swear all they think about is food and sex,” Savannah said.

I laughed. “No. That’s not true. I have three brothers. They actually do have other thoughts.”

“Like what?”

“Like everything. My brother Nathan took ten minutes to call a girl the other day.”

“Why?”

“Because he was overanalyzing it and was insecure. And my brother Gage uses humor to cover how he really feels. And Jerom, he worries about everything.”

Amber smiled. “Awesome. Charlie gets to be the Guy Interpreter now.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure I’m ready for a title or anything.”

“And speaking of guys that need interpreting, I can no longer ignore that table,” Amber said.

“I know,” Savannah said, “they are totally staring.”

“I thought we were just pretending they didn’t exist,” Antonia added.

“Who? What?” I asked.

They laughed. “Those guys,” Amber said.

“Okay, they realized we noticed them,” Savannah said. “I give them two minutes before they walk over here.”

“Two minutes is kind of generous,” Antonia said.

I still hadn’t looked. What if they were friends with my brothers?

“See, I told you,” Antonia said.

This time I looked and saw a guy walking our way. He grabbed a chair by the back on his way and slid it across the tile floor until it rested right in front of our table. Then he sat down. I didn’t know him. This made me happy.

“Can I help you?” Amber said, cool and professional.

“We wondered if you ladies wanted to join us.”

“Sorry, girl time,” Amber said. “Which obviously means girls only.”

I wondered if Amber and the others had guys hit on them like this all the time. It was a first for me to be on the receiving end of this exchange, and I found it amusing. I held back a laugh and waited to hear what line he’d deliver. I could probably give him some pointers. My brothers were experts. Right now he was playing the Gage of our group. Gage could never hold himself back. He had to jump in with both feet, even though Jerom and Braden would tell him to play it cool for a while.

I wondered who this guy was interested in. Probably Amber. She was the prettiest, with the typical Barbie-doll look—blond hair, blue eyes, perfect teeth, tan. Or maybe Antonia; she had the most beautiful shade of mocha skin.

He folded his arms across his chest. “Oh, I see how it is. You should’ve hung up a sign that said ‘No boys allowed.’”

I gave a little laugh. He shouldn’t have pulled out the injured-ego play so early. It was not endearing. What he should’ve done was said something like, I can hold my own in a girls’ club, try me. Maybe my title should’ve been Moderator instead of Interpreter. I decided to help him out because it was obvious he needed it. And he was pretty cute, just a little clueless.

“I bet he’d fit right in with the girls’ club,” I said, and everyone looked at me.

“For sure,” he said, a smile lighting up his face.

“Let’s test him. Four questions every girl would know. We each get one. If you answer right, you get half an hour.”

Amber smiled, seeming to like this game.

“I’ll start,” I said. “Name four makeup items.”

The girls scoffed. “Too easy.”

“For a girl,” he said. I agreed. I didn’t think my brothers could name two.

He looked up, biting his lip. “Okay, um, that black stuff you put on your eyelashes.”

“Official names,” I said.

“Wait, I’m thinking.” He slapped the table. “Mascara?”

“Good.”

“Then there’s”—he pointed to his lips—“lipstick.”

“That’s two.”

“Cheek color.”

Amber laughed. “Is that your final answer?”

“No. It’s . . .” The other guys wandered over. “Cheek stuff, guys,” he said. “What’s it called?”

“No help from your friends,” Antonia said.

“Maybe we should let them put their brains together,” I said. Especially since one of the guys who walked over was hot and I wouldn’t mind him hanging out for a while. They huddled for a minute, whispering, and Amber giggled. “This is fun,” she said. I checked out the score on the TV while the guys were busy.

“Okay, we have an answer,” he announced. “Blush.”

“Very good. That’s three. One more.”

“Did you already do mascara?” Hot Guy asked.

“Yeah, and lipstick.”

“Is there anything else?” the other guy, a redhead, asked.