“Keep going—I want the deets!” she says. “Mostly I want to know what my cousin did to convince you that he’s worth your time.”

“I’m right here!”

Wyatt looks at me again, almost like he’s asking permission. I don’t know what he wants me to do here. I’ve got nothing, and she asked him. This is his job.

“Well, we were walking back to the dorm one night. There was a student movie night in the auditorium. They were showing that Emma movie, the new one.”

“With Anya Taylor-Joy,” Lindsay adds. “Put respect on my girl.”

Wyatt laughs and keeps going. “And you got extra credit in Classic Lit if you went and brought the ticket stub back to class.”

I kick him lightly under the table, and he looks down.

Does this dude not understand the art of subtlety?

He’s giving Lindsay too many details; he needs to keep the lie simple. I try to tell him as much with a look, but there’s only so much a look can do.

“Sorry, um.” Wyatt clears his throat. “The sun was setting; it was pretty romantic. And I finally worked up the courage to ask him out. Officially.”

“Well, that’s cute!” Lindsay cheers before she turns to me. “I thought you had that thing going with Josh?”

“That’s over.”

“Yikes? Break his heart?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I sip my water to give myself something else to do other than answer her questions.

But she just keeps asking them. “Is he coming this weekend?”

“No idea.”

“His brother is Michael’s best friend, right?”

“Yeah, and?”

Lindsay shrugs. “Okay, geez! No reason to get all rude. Is he like this with you?” she asks Wyatt.

“Oh, all the time.”

“How do you put up with it?”

“I usually just ignore him until he forgets what he’s angry about. Or a quick little peck on the lips—isn’t that right, sweety-ookums?” Wyatt reaches across the table to pinch my cheek, and I slap his hand away.

“Sweety-ookums?” I glare at him, trying to decide if I’m more confused or angry. “I will make you sleep in the hallway tonight.”

“Sharing a room already, my, my. This did move quickly.”

“You can thank Mother for that,” I tell her.

“Where is the puppet master, anyway? I should go say hello.”

I turn to point over toward the table, and just as I do, I meet Mom’s gaze, and the information that I’m here dawns on her as she stands very carefully, telling Michael and Grandpa that she’ll be right back.

“Oh no,” I murmur.

“Speak of the devil, and she shall appear,” Lindsay whispers.

“Neil, how long have you been here?” Mom stomps up to the booth, her hair done in an elaborate bun. She’s wearing a black dress that’s actually pretty cute. “And, Lindsay, it’s so good to see you again.”

“Nice to see you too, Aunt Rebecca.”

“We missed you at Christmas.”

“Things got pretty intense.”