I didn’t consider myself particularly sentimental—and still disapproved of their timid romance—but even I smiled at their antics. At least, I did until I caught sight of Eddie’s face. He wasn’t giving away much, to be fair. Maybe hanging around Dimitri had provided some tips on the guardian poker face. But Eddie wasn’t Dimitri yet, and I could see the faintest signs of pain and longing.

Why did he do this to himself? He’d refused to tell Jill how he felt. He took the noble stance that he was her protector and nothing more. Some part of me could understand that. What I couldn’t understand was why he kept torturing himself by endorsing her going out with his roommate, of all people. Even with his hang-up over Micah and Mason, Eddie was forcing himself to constantly watch the girl he wanted with someone else. I had no relatable experience, but it had to be agonizing.

Eddie caught my eye and gave a small shake of his head. Let it go, he seemed to be saying. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.

Angeline soon piped in with more talk about the dance, interrogating Jill and Micah about whether they’d be going. She also brought up her plans to go “with” Eddie. That pulled him out of his melancholy mood, and although I knew she annoyed him, I wondered if that was better than continually being tormented by Jill and Micah’s relationship.

Of course, the conversation came to a halt—as did Eddie’s problem—when Micah frowned and pointed out what the rest of us had missed. “Why would you go to the dance together? Aren’t you guys cousins?”

Eddie, Jill, and I froze. Another cover story mess-up. I couldn’t believe this had now slipped past me twice. I should have mentioned this as soon as Angeline brought up the dance. In the school’s eyes, we were all related.

“So?” asked Angeline, missing the point.

Eddie cleared his throat. “Um, third cousins. But still. We’re not really going together. It’s more of a joke.”

That effectively killed the topic, and he couldn’t help smiling triumphantly.

Brayden picked me up immediately after school the next day so that we could make the windmill tour on time. Ms. Terwilliger had even let me go a few minutes early, after promising I’d get her a cappuccino on our way back to Amberwood. I was excited to see Brayden and the tour, yet as I got into his car, I felt a brief pang of doubt. Did I have any business doing these sorts of fun, personal activities? Especially now that the cover story had slipped a couple of times. Maybe I was spending too much time on me and not enough on the mission.

Brayden had lots to tell me about the debate competition he’d attended over the weekend. We analyzed some of the more difficult topics he’d come across and laughed at the easy ones that had stumped the opposing team. I’d feared dating for years but was again pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to talk to him. It was a lot like the Shakespearean outing: an endless source of topics that we both knew lots about. It was the rest of the experience that still left me unsettled—the “date” stuff. The dating books I’d read since our last outing mostly advised on when to have sex, which was completely useless since I had yet to figure out holding hands.