Queen of Babble in the Big City by Meg Cabot Page B

saw him. But then maybe I was too busy bawling my eyes out to notice. “Wow. Well, I’m sure it’s just a transitional thing. Once Shari settles into her new job, they’ll be fine.”
    “Maybe,” Luke says.
    “What do you mean, maybe?” I ask. “What do you know that I don’t know?”
    “Nothing,” Luke says innocently. Too innocently. He’s smiling, though, so I know whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.
    “What is it?” I’m laughing now. “Tell me.”
    “I can’t tell you,” Luke says. “Chaz made me swear not to tell. You, of all people, especially.”
    “That’s not fair,” I say, pouting. “I won’t tell. I swear.”
    “Chaz said you’d say that.” Luke is grinning, so I know whatever it is he’s not supposed to tell me, it isn’t something bad.
    “Just tell me,” I whine.
    And then, just like that, I know. Or think I know, anyway.
    “Oh my God,” I cry. “He’s going to propose!”
    Luke stares at me over his bubbling chicken. “What?”
    “Chaz! He’s going to ask Shari to marry him, isn’t he? Oh my gosh, that is so great!”
    And I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out sooner. Of course that’s what’s going on. That’s why Chaz asked me those searching questions about Shari in their place the other day. He was feeling me out to see if Shari had said anything about how living with him was going!
    Because he wants to make it permanent!
    “Oh, Luke!” I have to hold on to the counter to keep from falling off my stool, because I’m practically swooning, I’m so excited. “This is so fantastic! And I have the best idea for a dress for her…it’s like a bustier, you know, but with off-the-shoulder capped sleeves, in dupioni silk, and with little pearl buttons down the back, totally fitted through the waist, and then pooching out into this totally elegant belled skirt—not a hoop skirt, she wouldn’t like that…Oh, you know, she might not even want a belled skirt. Maybe I should make it more—well, here, this is what I mean.”
    I reach for a notepad that his mother has left lying around—Bibi de Villiers, it says on the top of each page, in cursive—and scribble out the design I’m thinking of with a pen from the bank we both use.
    “See, something like this?” I hold up the sketch, and see that Luke is staring at me with a mingled expression of horror and amusement.
    “What?” I ask, shocked by the look on his face. “You don’t like it? I think it’ll be cute. In ivory? With a detachable train?”
    “Chaz isn’t asking Shari to marry him,” Luke says, half grinning and half frowning. It’s clear he can’t tell which to do, so he’s doing both.
    “He isn’t?” I put down the notepad and stare at my sketch. “Are you sure?”
    “I’m positive, ” Luke says. Now he’s completely grinning. “I can’t even believe you’d think that!”
    “Well.” I am so crestfallen, I can’t hide it. “Why not? I mean, they’ve been going out forever—”
    “Right,” Luke says. “But he’s only twenty-six. And he’s still in school!”
    “Graduate school,” I point out. “And they are living together.”
    “So are we,” Luke says with a laugh, “but we’re not getting married anytime soon.”
    I force a laugh along with him, although the truth is, I don’t see anything funny about the situation. No, we may not be getting married anytime soon. But the possibility is still there, isn’t it?
    Isn’t it?
    But of course I don’t ask him this out loud. Because I’m still woodland-creaturing him.
    “Chaz and Shari have known each other for a lot longer than we have,” I settle for saying instead. “It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing if they got engaged.”
    “I guess not,” Luke admits—but grudgingly. “Still, I don’t exactly see either of them as the marrying kind.”
    “What’s the marrying kind?” I ask…sort of hating myself even as the words are coming out of my mouth. Because it’s totally obvious from this