That's it," Rayna said, pushing my laptop closed. It was about a week before the Rio trip, and she and I were at the kitchen island working on term papers.
"Rayna!" I complained. "I could've lost my work!"
"Please. You hadn't typed anything in the last hour. Consider this a one-person intervention: Who is he and why haven't you told me about him?"
I felt the blush rise into my face. "Who is who?"
"Seriously? You're going to play that with me? Clea, it's obvious. You're practically delirious; you've been a million miles away since we got back from-" She gasped and smacked my arm. "Oh! My! God! It's Ben, isn't it? I did interrupt something the night we got back from Paris. It's Ben, and you haven't told me because you didn't want me to say I told you so, when I so told you so! You loser!" She hurled the epithet with a grin of such complete delight that I almost hated to tell her the truth.
"No! Rayna, it's not Ben. It's not anyone."
"Liar."
"Okay, it's not anyone real, I said, grimacing.

Author: Hilary Duff