And then the perfect twenty minutes came to an end.
“I’m really impressed to see how sporting you are, Liv,” said Emily, who was sitting opposite me. She had eaten only half a jam roll, with a knife and fork, which showed that she and Grayson had not been holding hands under the table. “I’d really never have thought it of you. My respects.”
What was she talking about? “Well, we Silvers have our good points,” I cautiously replied. “But I don’t think I can manage a third yeast roll. It’s Grayson you should be impressed by. If I’ve counted correctly, he’s on his fourth.”
“My fifth,” said Grayson with his mouth full. “I already had one before—”
Emily cut him short. “I wasn’t admiring you for the number of calories you can consume, Liv, I was admiring your nonchalance.”
Nonchalance—the Boker had used that word recently (when she complained that she didn’t have any herself these days, in view of the fact that Ernest and Mom were an item), so I knew what it meant; it meant being casual and unconcerned, not minding. Hmm. “Nonchalance about what?” I asked suspiciously.
Henry held my hand a little tighter and started getting to his feet. “Why don’t we go upstairs and … well, unpack your suitcase?”
Emily returned my glance without batting an eyelid, totally unimpressed by the fact that Grayson was looking at her as if he’d like to jab his fork into her.
“Em,” he said menacingly.
“What? I’m only saying I admire her.” Emily was still looking me straight in the eyes. “I don’t think most people would be so happy to have their sex life discussed in public.” She added with a thin-lipped smile, “Or rather, their lack of a sex life.”
Henry groaned quietly and stopped pulling at my hand, and Grayson dropped his fork on his plate with such a loud noise that Mom, Lottie, Florence, and Ernest, who were all deep in conversation at the other end of the table, fell silent. For a second you could have heard a pin drop.
Then Mia, speaking instead of me, said, “What?” I was very grateful to her for taking over. “Who’s been discussing Liv’s sex life where?”
“Sex life?” Mom echoed her. It was always a cue for her to be wide awake.
“Oh, I suppose someone at Frognal Academy.” Emily leaned back, crossing her arms. “Someone with nothing else to do. If it’s any consolation, most people don’t think you’re really frigid.”
“What?” said Mia again. And once again Mom, too, echoed Emily: “Frigid?” I swallowed with difficulty.
Florence sighed. “Em! Presumably Liv hasn’t seen it yet.” She was looking at me sympathetically. “Or did you go on the Internet while you were away skiing?”
I shook my head slowly. Nonchalantly, you might say.
“Oh, I see.” Emily allowed herself to give that thin-lipped smile again. “I thought Henry would have told you about it ages ago.”
No. He hadn’t. Whatever it was.
“I haven’t had a chance yet,” said Henry. “And by the way, Liv is standing right here. It’s only silly gossip. No one will be interested.”
“No, of course not. Secrecy only let two hundred and forty-three readers add comments to her post,” said Florence.
Mia jumped up and snatched Lottie’s iPad off the sideboard. She was right. It was about time I gave up my wonderful nonchalance as well. I let go of Henry’s hand and stood up.
“Like I said, it’s only uninteresting gossip,” Henry repeated.
“Dead boring,” agreed Grayson. “May I have another of those jam bun things, Lottie?”
“Oh,” said Mia, staring fixedly at the iPad. “Oh no. Oh. Bloody. Hell.”
I took the thing from her and skimmed Secrecy’s post. One nasty dig after another, which was typical of her blog. There was the bit about Henry and me at last, in the postscript: they’ve been an item for months, and they still haven’t slept with each other.
Well, in fact, that was true. How did she know? Or was she simply guessing?
Only making out and holding hands … Hmm, what do you make of that? Seeing that we all know Henry Harper isn’t exactly famous for holding back, it must be something to do with Liv.
What did she mean, Henry wasn’t exactly famous for holding back? I didn’t think he’d been all that restrained. Or me either. But you didn’t have to go rushing into things.
Is she a prude? Frigid? Or does she belong to some kind of religious community where sex is forbidden before marriage? Then again, maybe she’s just a little slow for her age, poor thing.
Oh well. Huh. If that was all. Maybe I really was a little slow for my age. So what?