Free Art is the Lie (A Vanderbie Novel) by Courtney Cook Hopp Page B

crossing over her eyes before she said, “I’m almost done in the kitchen and then I will come join you girls.”
    “Do you need any help?” I asked, hoping to avoid a painful dose of Summer’s vomit of the mouth.
    “No, no. I’m about done. You sit and enjoy yourself.” She walked back to the kitchen, which was only separated from the room by a breakfast bar with four stools sitting in front of it.
    I dropped down on the couch and Summer pounced down next to me. Autumn was already curled up in an oversized chair with her nose in a book.
    “So,” Summer hummed with a gleam in her eye. “Who is he?”
    “Who’s who?” I asked, having no idea what she was talking about.
    “The guy? The dark haired guy?”
    The tempo of my heart picked up. She couldn’t know. There’s no way she could know. “What dark haired guy are you talking about?” I asked again, trying to play it cool, praying none of this conversation was floating out of the room. “There are so many, after all.”
    “Summer, lay off,” Autumn said from behind her book. “If she wants you to know, she’ll tell you.”
    Ignoring her sister, Summer went on. “Natalie McDonald said she saw you hanging out with some dark haired guy she didn’t recognize down at Point Robinson Lighthouse.”
    How did I not see Natalie? I don’t remember seeing anyone. I hate small towns and small islands. My mind was spinning for a plausible answer to divert Summer from her current track of thinking. “Oh, him,” I said as casually as I could make my voice sound. “He was some photography student asking about other parks on the island.”
    “Does he go to Vashon High?” she probed relentlessly, her eyes hoping for something juicy.
    “No,” I said, glancing up at Autumn, whose attention was caught by something behind me. “He’s a student over in Seattle.”
    “Who’s a student in Seattle?” Aunt Lucy’s voice floated by. I turned my head, cringing inside.
    “A photography student that CeeCee was hanging out with last weekend at Point Robinson Lighthouse,” Summer graciously answered.
    “I wasn’t hanging out with him,” trying to clarify over the heavy pounding in my chest. “He just came up to me and asked for directions.”
    “Mmm,” Aunt Lucy breathed before saying, “Girls, could you please finish setting the table? Dinner is almost ready.”
    “I can help,” I said, standing up.
    “No, they can take care of it.” She gestured for me to sit back down next to her on the couch.
    “A Seattle student?” she asked, resting her arm on the back of the coach. “Anyone you might dress up for to do homework with?”
    “I really don’t know him.” I stared off, unable to look her in the eyes. “Summer jumped to the wrong conclusion. I ran into him while I was down at the park and he asked about other places to shoot photos of long, dark shadows.”
    She placed her fingers under my chin and lifted until her intense gaze held mine. “If there was someone you were dressing up for, you could tell me,” she said gently. “I know I’m not Gretta, but I’m pretty good at boy talk.”
    “There’s no one.” The first of my words that weren’t a lie.
    “Dinner is off the grill,” Uncle Russell bellowed from the kitchen. I worked hard to contain my sigh of relief.
    I was about to stand, when Aunt Lucy said, “The girls and I are planning a trip into the city on Sunday. Would you have any interest in joining us?”
    My brain hurt. I couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough to get out of going. “Okay.”
    “Wonderful.” She wrapped her arm around my shoulder and led me toward the kitchen. “We’ll be glad to have your company.”

 

     
     
    “Too much?” Grace asked turning back and forth in front of her mirror, admiring the fifth top she’d tried on. Currently, a blue silk blouse over a mini-skirt.
    “I thought this was a casual Homecoming dance?” I questioned, looking down at my jeans and t-shirt. “Are you really going