Under the Same Stars(41)

“Get away.” It took a hell of a lot to keep my voice level. “Get away from me.”

Penn State furrowed his brow, as if confused. “What?”

“You heard me,” I said, suddenly feeling trapped in my booth. “Away.” I raised one of my skates, as if to threaten him.

“Okay…” he said slowly. “I really don’t know what’s going on here.”

Liar, I thought. He remembers my name, so he remembers what he did.

“Two words,” I still reminded him. “Pepper spray.”

Penn State backed off, taking several giant steps away from me. I seized the opportunity to scramble out of the booth and toward the rink’s automatic doors.

“Wait, where are you going?” he called after me. “I don’t understand!”

I stopped for a second. “We didn’t have much fun the first time around, Derek,” I told him dryly. “Which means I highly doubt today—”

“Derek?” The guy cocked his head. “You think I’m Derek?”

Now I was the one confused. “Well, aren’t you?”

“No.” He shook his head. “No, no, no. I’m Chad. Derek is my brother.”

Brother?

I didn’t believe him.

I might’ve asked to see his driver’s license.

Whelan, Chadwick, it read, along with a birth year the same as mine.

“You look like identical twins,” I said weakly when returning his ID. My heart rate had slowed down, almost back to normal.

But not quite.

“Yeah, we get that a lot,” Chad muttered, then cleared his throat. “How, uh, do you know Derek?”

I told him.

And, somewhat surprisingly, Chad did not apologize for his brother. “I’m nothing like Derek,” he said instead. “I promise.” He shifted from one foot to the other, and it was then that I noticed he wasn’t as tall as Derek and wasn’t carrying any beer weight. “And I’ve been really looking forward to this.” He half smiled, dimples appearing—my pulse spiked, wishing they weren’t so eerily like his brother’s—as he gestured to the rink. “Do you still want to skate?”

I took a breath, then nodded. “Sure,” I said. “Let’s do it.”

But all I could think while tying my skates was: Why didn’t I bring Connor?

***

“Is there going to be a second date?” Yasmin asked after I finished speaking. “It sounds like it went well overall!”

“No,” Courtney, the therapist, said firmly at the same time Meredith, who clearly had impressive intuition, went, “Are you kidding, Yaz?”

Yasmin shrugged. “What? It seems like they had a good time after getting over the whole Douchebag Derek thing.”

“Chad had a nice time,” I said, my quiche now cold. “But I only pretended to; I didn’t—couldn’t—get over the connection.” I chewed and swallowed a bite. “I knew he wanted to hold my hand, but I kept outmaneuvering him. They look so much alike—too much alike. I can’t…” I trailed off, uncomfortable all over again. “I just can’t.”

Courtney nodded as Meredith squeezed my shoulder in support. Even though I thought it’d been beyond obvious I hadn’t wanted to hold Chad’s hand, he kept up our lighthearted conversation and had asked me to dinner after the free skate ended. But I’d declined, and he guessed why. It had put me on edge even letting him hug me goodbye.

“I’m sorry, Mads,” Amanda said. “Katie mentioned you visiting Princeton, but all she said was it wasn’t the right fit. I didn’t know about that guy.”

“This isn’t the end of the world,” Reese said after a few beats. “For your next date, I think you should pick an app—Bumble, maybe—and set up a profile. What do you think?”

“I think we should stop playing this stupid game,” I muttered, and when all the bridesmaids blinked at me, I added, “It hasn’t worked and hasn’t been that fun.”

Reese arched an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

“Reese,” Meredith warned. “Don’t.”

The bridesmaid ignored her. “Well, I hate to break it to you, Mads, but that’s what dating’s like. You’ve only been on two dates! Of course it hasn’t worked. I sometimes go on three dates a week, and still, nothing has truly stuck or been particularly fun. It’s not”—she made air quotes—“magic like every garbage Bachelor Nation show makes it out to be.”

Amanda grimaced in agreement.

My cheeks flamed. “I know that,” I fired back. “Those shows are beyond overproduced, and the couples almost always break up once the bubble breaks. I get it.” I glanced around for the bride, of all people, but Katie was eternally lost to the shower guests. “I guess I thought you’d all be more like Chris Harrison—yes, I know he no longer hosts the show—and support me.” I shrugged. “I feel alone. You set me up with these guys and then I feel alone.”

“That’s how you feel while dating,” Reese said matter-of-factly.

Courtney sighed. “Reese, I know I’m not your therapist, but maybe we should talk about your romantic life…”