Free Sweet Nothing by Mia Henry Page A

little sister cramping your style.
     
    Besides, things are starting to get a little better here. Kylie and Liz invited me out the other night—we just had a couple drinks at that karaoke place in the Village where they don’t check IDs. It felt like things were getting back to normal. Maybe school won’t be so bad after all.
     
    Love you for infinity,
     
    A
     
     
    Gwen’s at the kitchen table when I get home, surrounded by a stack of papers, legal pads, three back issues of
In Touch,
and a mason jar of iced tea. She manages to look hot in a full set of blue and white-striped men’s pajamas, and her brunette waves are twisted around a red colored pencil. She whistles softly when she sees me.
    “Pretty dolled up for a Tuesday night, missy.” She nudges one of the kitchen chairs with a bare foot and motions for me to sit. “Where’ve you been?”
    Trying to hide my grin, or at least disguise it as a casual I JUST WENT TO A SCHOOL-SPONSORED ART RECEPTION AND DRANK GINGERALE! NOTHING ELSE HAPPENED!-smile, I kick off my sandals and flop onto the chair.
    “Nowhere.”
    She leans back, surveying me from head to toe. “Just… ‘nowhere’? That’s what you’re going with here? You’re a sucky liar, you know that?”
    I pretend not to hear her and reach for her jar of tea. I need something to do with my mouth. I’d prefer that something to involve Luke, but he’d dropped me off just a few minutes ago with a sweet, quick smooch. Had told me that while he wanted me to stay, he also wanted to take things slow. Which I both loved and hated.
    “Easy, chickadee. It’s spiked,” she warns as I lift the frosty glass to my lips, which feel bee-stung from Luke’s playful bites. “I can’t grade these summer reading tests on straight iced tea.”
    Then she goes silent, waiting me out as I take a long swig. I want to tell her where I’ve been. In fact, I want to tell her everything. But there’s no use saying the words out loud.
I kissed Luke Poulos tonight. And it. Was. Magic.
If I say it, then it’s real. Something, when I know that there can be nothing between us.
    Still, it felt like a pretty fucking incredible nothing.
    “Okay. I…went to the art reception for the summer session,” I admit, looking everywhere but directly at Gwen. There are two chocolate chip cookies on a burned cookie sheet on the stove, and our Chinese takeout containers from the night before are still sitting on the counter.
    “Wasn’t that at Luke’s place? And wasn’t it for art faculty only? I think Waverly tried to score an invite, and he said he wanted to keep it small.”
    When I give in and look at her, Gwen taps her nose ring knowingly, her brow furrowed with amusement. She’s on my side. Not that Luke is a competition. And if he were, I’d be winning. I can’t help but gloat a little that Luke wanted me there—
me—
and not Waverly.
    “Look. He probably asked me since I’m new, and he’s my mentor, and he figured I don’t have anything else to do, and—”
    “And he wants to, like,
know
you. In the Biblical sense.”
    I snort. “You are such a dork.”
    Gwen sighs. “No, I’m just spaced-out from reading too many essays. Although this one is actually good. Listen.” She reaches for a typed essay at the top of her stack and reads aloud. “In William Faulkner’s LIGHT IN AUGUST, the theme of the isolation of man is significant. Most of the characters in the book bring isolation on themselves, but Joe Christmas’s isolation is not totally his fault. Society is also to blame.” When she looks up, her eyes are sad. Haunted.
    “I never read LIGHT IN AUGUST,” I say quickly. Suddenly, it feels like I’ve glimpsed a part of Gwen that I shouldn’t see. I look away, and my mind flicks to the textbooks in my leather tote. I should be prepping for class tomorrow. Instead, all I want to do is get a little tipsy on tea, flop into bed without taking my clothes off, and think about the way Luke’s mouth felt on