Hourglass. Claudia Gray

you guys when we came back last night? You didn’t respond to Eliza’s call.”

      “Oh. Dana and I were…”

      “Were what?”

      Raquel paused. It wasn’t like her to avoid a simple question. Ducking around a lady on the sidewalk who carried three big shopping bags in each hand, I repeated, “Were what?”

      “We were off together on our own. Alone. So we’d have some—you know—some space.”

      I shrugged. What was the big deal?

      Then I saw the hesitation on Raquel’s face, and the hopeful light in her eyes, and I realized that I was just about the blindest person on the face of the earth. “You and Dana are—”

      “Me and Dana.” Raquel grinned, the brightest smile I’d ever seen on her face, just for a split second, like she couldn’t hold it in any longer. But her uncertainty returned quickly. “That doesn’t make you feel weird, does it?”

      “Some,” I confessed, “but only because you never said anything. After all the stuff we’ve told each other, you could’ve told me this.”

      “You never know who’s going to be strange about it. Besides, you kept trying to fix me up with guys.”

      “I tried to fix you up with Vic. One guy. Not plural.” My head was spinning a little. At least talking about her love life had distracted Raquel—and me. “I just never guessed.”