She smiled. "Yeah. Thanks for inviting us. This is a cool party." She nudged Rishi. "He just won a sketch-off."
"Really?" Kevin eyed him a little warily. "Great."
The girl with the piercings set the plate of brownies on the table where the lemonade was. "You guys want one?" she asked, taking a square herself.
"Sure!" Dimple said, reaching for it.
Rishi grabbed her elbow. "Um, Dimple, are you sure those brownies are safe to eat?" he whispered in her ear.
She tried to ignore the tickle of his breath in her ear, or the way it sent a little delicious shiver up her spine. "Yes, it's fine," Dimple said, aware that her voice was two octaves too high.
Rishi didn't seem to notice. "But you don't know for sure," he repeated, raising his eyebrows for emphasis.
Kevin Keo watched this interaction in interest.
CHAPTER 26
Stifling a laugh Dimple reached for one of the totally innocent brownies and took a bite. "Mmm. It's good."
"My favorite mix," the girl said. "Made from scratch."
"You're a really talented baker," Dimple said, and the girl flushed with pleasure.
Rishi leaned in to Dimple as Kevin and his friends began to disperse into the crowd. "How can you just eat and drink things in a place like this?" He looked around at all the people hooking up and shouting and laughing in near darkness.
Dimple took another bite, chewed, and swallowed. "Are you serious right now?"
He looked at her blankly.
"You need to relax and let go a little." Rishi opened his mouth, and she said, "And please don't say I need to watch out for the date-rape drug." Because I already saw these were completely safe, she thought but did not say. She was enjoying watching Rishi worrying about her, though she didn't want to admit it.
He snapped his mouth shut. "Okay, I won't. But seriously, aren't you worried? Didn't you ever pay attention in any of those D.A.R.E. presentations?"
Dimple snorted and took another bite. "No. Did you?"
Rishi rubbed his jaw. "Th-that's not the point. Look, you can't just wander around a strange party drinking and eating from unattended containers. It's not safe. People will take advantage-"
He stopped talking when Dimple leaned closer to him and brushed his lips with the rest of her brownie. "You know you want to. It's delicious. "
Looking down at her, he shook his head and made an "uh-uh" noise in the back of his throat without opening his mouth. Oh my God, he was so cute. Dimple batted her eyelashes at him and said, in a sultry voice she had no idea she was capable of, "Please, Rishi Patel?"
Something glittered in his eyes at her words, and Dimple felt herself flushing at whatever was going on, practically rippling in the air between them.
After a pause, Rishi obediently did as she asked. Dimple felt a thrill that he'd actually listened to her. That somehow, some way, she seemed to have power over this boy.
It was important not to panic. So, okay, he'd just downed a brownie that might potentially contain something illegal. That he'd done it because of Dimple's petite, chocolate brownie –scented hand near his mouth (and because she was standing so close to him he could feel her body heat) just made it worse.
But Rishi wouldn't think about that. He wasn't going to worry about the possibility of a SWAT team bursting through the door, throwing him to the ground, and handcuffing him either. He wouldn't think about writing letters home from his prison cell while his somewhat flirty, six-foot-three-inch roommate, Bozo, watched.
Dimple giggled-giggled! A sound he'd never imagined leaving her mouth-and let her hand drop. Rishi was immediately bereft. "You should see your face."
"I bet it's nothing compared to my brain waves. They're probably crying out, spiraling into years of addiction."
Dimple shook her head and sighed. "There's nothing in that brownie except sugar and fat." She gave him a sidelong glance. "I saw them make it, okay? I peeked into the kitchen when you weren't looking."
Without talking about it, she and Rishi began to make their way to the sliding back door. The dark backyard beyond looked mostly empty. Rishi opened his mouth and feigned being aghast at her, his heart lifting when she trilled a laugh.
"Sorry, sorry," she said, lifting her hands in front of her. "You're just too easy with your paranoia."
"It's not paranoia, Dimple. I think it's idealistic to trust people so completely. That's why I don't like going to parties." He could feel her watching him in that sardonic, Dimple way she had-eyes calculating, eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Yeees?"