“So, Dana, what does your dad do? I mean, what kind of business does he run?”
I froze with a spoonful of cornflakes halfway to my mouth, and stared at September.
I thought last night’s ice breaker had turned out pretty well, all things considered. I had to scramble to cover up my mistake, of course, but everyone seemed relieved when I said wanting to go to Salem was my lie. Everyone except September. She was the only one who kept looking at me after I’d finished speaking. At the time, I did my best to ignore her and focus on the next game Dean Dobronravov introduced. But with only the five of us at the breakfast table this morning, it was a lot harder to ignore her gaze.
I gulped down the cornflakes and tried to appraise the look on her face. She knew. Somehow she knew what my real lie was! With the Dean’s lie, I just thought she was good with accents, but how did she know the truth about my dad…?
“He, uh…” I raced to think faster than the early hour really allowed for. “He owns a restaurant,” I said. I dropped my spoon back into my cereal and focused on finishing breakfast as quickly as possible.
The other girls perked up a bit at my announcement.
“That’s so cool,” Angelica said – the first time I’d heard her speak since she’d stumbled into the Honeybee House’s kitchen in her pajamas, bleary-eyed and reaching for the coffee. Since she was now on her second cup, I supposed she’d finally woken up. “My dad’s in the restaurant business too!” she said, and my chest constricted. “What kind of food does his place have?”
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