“You did what?” Penelope shrieked.

“I know, I know. But I had to kiss him back,” I said, my face still tingling from the contact. “We’d had such a nice day together, and I really do like him. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. You’re the one who has the dilemma of a lifetime.”

I sighed. “Don’t remind me. Although I am sorry for being late.”

“It’s ok,” Penelope said. “I let myself in and examined your makeup cache.”

“Examined, huh?” I said, casting a dubious look at my vanity mirror and desk, which was a jumble of makeup, some so old I couldn’t even remember ever having bought it.

“Yep,” Penelope said, fluttering her blue-mascaraed lashes. “What do you think?”

“Very 80’s,” I said, not quite sure I had the right decade. “Are you sure you’re still ok with this? I don’t want you to feel obligated to go.”

Penelope pouted. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No, but I was going to try and set you up with Owen, but now that he and I kissed…”

“Listen,” Penelope said. “I’m pretty sure things between you and the twins are a sure thing. But still, I don’t like the idea of it being just you and both of them. Especially when you’re not sure of what you want yet. So how about I come along as a chaperone?”

I grinned, and Penelope huffed. “Ok, maybe I’m not the ideal chaperone, but still.”

“Sure thing,” I said, grinning.

“First thing’s first,” Penelope said. “Let’s try a new makeup look on you.”

Penelope’s looked pretty good, so I consented, which, thirty minutes later, I realized was a very poor choice indeed.

“It looks like you were in a bar fight and lost,” even Penelope admitted with a sigh as she peered down to look at my two black-shadowed eyes that resembled, well, black eyes.

I could only gape dumbly at my expression before grabbing for the makeup remover. “I can’t go out like this.”

Not to mention that I still had an outfit to choose. So, completely bare-faced, I stood before my closet.

“It’s supposed to be pretty warm tonight, so you could totally go for a dress like I did,” Penelope said helpfully.

“It’s not that,” I said. “It’s just – Jake asked me to wear red.”

“So?” Penelope said. “Wear red then.”

“Yeah, but Owen asked me to wear blue.”

“Girl, you have bigger problems,” Penelope pointed out. “We have to be ready in three minutes!”

In the end, I threw on some old black dress, rubbed off the last of the black-smeared monstrosity that was my eye makeup, shoved everything in sight into my big purse and raced down the stairs with Penelope.

“Hey, only 10 minutes late,” Jake said from the driver’s seat with a smile. “Not bad.”

I smiled sweetly at him. “Want me to go and finish my makeup so you can wait longer?”

“Why ruin a good thing?” Owen said from the back. The intensity of his gaze indicated he meant it, too.

I shifted uneasily. Luckily, I still had some lip gloss leftover from earlier today, but still. I was makeup-less in front of the hottest guys I knew.

“This is Penelope,” I told them.

She waved. “Anything you want to know about Cin, you just ask me.”

“Great, thanks,” I said, shooting a glare at her as we got in the back.

“Never said I’d tell them the answers,” she pointed out.

“Ok, how about this,” Jake said as he pulled his Porsche away from the curb. His voice rose an octave. “How do I win Cin’s undying affection?”

“Wine,” Penelope said immediately. “Lots of it.”

We all laughed.

Inside the car, the chitchat flowed easily. Although my mind was periodically pulled away from the conversation, distracted by Owen’s nearness, the way his eyes returned to mine every so often. Inside, I was roiling with nerves. Before, the crazy-hot kiss with Jake and our phone conversation after had made me start to think that he was the one I liked. But now I was definitely starting to have feelings for Owen too. We couldn’t continue things like this indefinitely, could we?

A few minutes later we were there, and Jake raced over to open the door for me.

“An Owen move,” he said, tossing a wink to his brother.

“How gentlemanly,” Owen said as he clasped my hand.

“I try,” Jake said as he clasped the other one.

“Talk about being the fourth wheel,” Penelope said with a good-humored laugh.

“Here,” I said, dropping both twins’ hands and grabbing hers.

“Sorry,” she giggled to them.

Glancing at each other, they went for my free hand at the same time.

“Can we please not act like we’re twelve?” I asked them.

“We can try,” Jake said in a half-hearted voice.

Inside the movie theater, we were pretty early, so there was plenty of time to talk.

“So you did used to switch with each other in school?” Penelope asked, looking to Owen.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sometimes Jake would even fail my tests for me.”

“Just how you started that food fight and said you were me?” Jake said with a sanguine smile.

“Kinda crazy you guys work together now,” Penelope commented.

“Not really,” Jake said. “Back then our feuds were nothing serious, just kid stuff. Whenever we’d get into big trouble, we’d band together to figure it out. Just how we do now.”

There was something forced about Owen’s smile as he agreed. “Yep. Just how we do now.”

“Food time,” I said, grinning as I accepted the menu from the theatre attendant.

“Ice cream,” Jake said immediately, “All I want is ice cream.”

“Ice cream does sound pretty good,” I said, my finger scanning the flavors. “They even have Rolo.”

After we told the attendant our selections and she left, talk returned to the movie at hand.

“I heard this one might be scary,” Jake said to me in a somber tone, touching my arm. “So if you need to cuddle up to me, don’t hesitate.”

“It’s Avengers,” I said, smirking. “Not The Shining.”

“Now that you mention it,” Jake continued. “Didn’t you run out of the room crying when you first saw The Shining, Owen?”

“I was four,” Owen said. “And Jack Nicholson is a scary bastard when he’s crazy. Anyway, check this out.”

He held out his phone and I stared. For a good few seconds, what was on the screen didn’t process. The woman with her hair splaying around her like a halo was too beautiful, almost unearthly so.

“Holy hell you look hot!” Penelope said, peering over Owen to see the screen.

I looked up to Owen. It was clear he’d done some fiddling with the colors and gradients and all that, but still. “This is how you see me?”

He nodded. “That’s how you are.”

Right then, I felt like kissing him, like the rush of feeling in me found a channel. Because it was more than Owen had taken a pretty picture of me. That picture, the way he caught the play of sad and happy, full and empty in my eyes, they way he’d captured it, it was clear. He got me. Owen hardly knew me and yet, he did somehow.

The theatre attendant returning with our ice cream interrupted the moment but didn’t eradicate it. As the lights dimmed and Owen’s hand found mine, I concentrated my ice cream eating with my other hand, happy for the contact. He stroked my hand, tracing the outline of all my fingers as if finger-painting a portrait of them, stroking up and down every inch of my palm as though trying to read it like braille.

Maybe I could tell him about losing Brent, I realized in a flash.

As the movie screen flashed to life and all of us sunk into our seats, it wasn’t the movie I was truly looking forward to, it was what would come after.