She Acts Like a Dude

Chapter 29: The New Heir

Chapter 29: The New Heir

~Ives~

I stretch out my neck, my eyes scanning the crowd. Where is she? Where is he?

I scratch my head. The program is already starting and August is still not back from the restrooms. To add to my missing persons list, the program organizers are in disarray looking for my brother. The program can't go on without him. Where did he run off to now?

"Hey, what's taking August so long?" Tristan mutters, spinning his fork with pasta.

"Ives, I think you should go and look for her." Jude takes a sip of white wine from his glass. "It's her first time in this house. She might've gotten lost or something."

I nod, agreeing to Jude, and move to stand up from my chair. A firm hand on my shoulder stops me.

"That won't be necessary, little bro."

I turn around to see my reflection staring back at me. This reflection has close cropped hair and a huge wide grin, both attributes I do not have. On the contrary, I have glasses, which the reflection does not have. In short, it's my brother, Ivan.

Beside him, August stands, coolly waving at us with a hand holding a Polaroid shot. "I should have preferred the 'or something', but yeah, I've gotten lost," she says.

"Thankfully, I was at the right place at the right time to rescue Ives' girlfriend." Ivan glances at me and winks. "Won't you even thank your big brother?"

"You're getting the wrong idea. She's not my girlfriend."

Ivan puts one arm around the now red-faced August in a quick movement. "Really? But she just seems to know a lot about you and she told me that she's your date for tonight."

I raise both eyebrows at August, mentally asking why Ivan knows she's my date. As our eyes meet, she seems to grow a deeper shade of red. She tilts her head toward my brother and rolls her eyes in annoyance. I interpret it in usual August-speak as "I can't help it. Don't blame me if your brother kept pestering the hell out of me."

"Woah! That can't be right, Van. August has rejected me just a while ago. She doesn't go for handsome guys," Tristan mumbles with his mouth half-full of turkey.

August shoves past me. The next moment, a table knife is embedded an inch away from Tristan's hand as he reaches out to grab a napkin. I bet he would've yelled his lungs out if he didn't have food in his mouth.

"I'd rather say that I would go out with a handsome guy if he's not you, thank you very much," I hear August say. Her free hand is still poised in midair, a result from throwing the knife. She is leaning over me, too close that I can hear her heartbeat better than her strong voice.

"You could've impaled my hand!" Tristan protests, his eyes still wide from the shock.