Uh oh. More stories about Dash’s kind, loyal heart? This is not what I need to keep my flutterings locked down.

“Of course, now I’m the one complaining about how overprotective he is,” she adds, and I relax. Now this is safer territory.

“Killing your game, is he?”

“What game?” Piper sighs. “Between him and his buddies at the bar, it’s like I’ve got a neon sign hanging over my head: ‘Baby sister, do not touch!’”

“He’ll get over it,” I advise her. “I was the same way, with my family, at least.”

“What did you do?”

“Ignored them. Forged my own path.” I grin. “Sometimes you have to do something dramatic, just to make them look at you in a new light.”

Piper looks thoughtful. “Dramatic…” she muses, and I wonder if I’ve just created a monster.

My phone buzzes with a text from Dash.

Where did you go?!!!

I smile at his panicked exclamations. Probably worried I’m spinning more stories of his romantic prowess.

Why? I text back. Miss me?

Always. And there’s nobody to buffer me from gala planning.

“Dash is at the mercy of Zelda,” I report to Piper. “Shall we take pity on him?”

“Umm, nope!” Piper grins. “Do you know how many of these things I’ve had to help with? It’s definitely his turn.”

I text back: Sorry, waffles beat you, any day.

Cruel woman!

:P

I smile, tucking my phone away. And then find Piper watching me. “What?” I ask, wiping at my face. “Do I have syrup somewhere?”

“No, it’s just… You guys are so cute.” She beams. “You’re smiling ear-to-ear.”

I am?

I cough and reach for more food. But my plate is clean. “Come on,” she says, putting down some bills, and getting to her feet. “There’s a store just across the street that you’re going to love… And I can’t let you leave without some expert instruction.”

I’m wondering what I could possibly teach this brisk, collected woman about anything, when she leads me to an amazing store, selling nothing but makeup. I light up. “Ooh,” I exclaim, looking around. “This place is amazing.”

“Dash thought you’d like it,” Piper laughs. “He was asking what spots you’d like.”

“He was?”

I hide a wince. The last thing I need is for him to be thoughtful, too. But luckily, the dizzying array of products on show is more than enough to distract me, and soon, we’re deep in the aisles, and I’m schooling Piper on what brands are worth the price tags, and which are best left on the shelf.

“This shade would look great on you,” I comment, picking a bold red lipstick.

“Really?” Piper looks reluctant. “I never wear anything bold. I’m always worried about smearing it on my teeth or looking like a clown.”

“No!” I cry. “It’s so much fun. Seriously, I know makeup can get a bad rap, and you should never feel like you have to wear it,” I add, “But… It’s like getting dressed in the morning: You get to pick what part of your personality you’re going to bring out to play. Will it be sultry vamp?” I ask, picking up a smoky eyeliner. “Glam-rock superstar?” I add a sparkly eyeshadow trio. “Or bold seductress?”