Prologue - Not-So Sweet Revenge
Carson
Late July
Nothing screams summer like a good prank.
I stand by the unoccupied house, hiding with a lemon meringue pie at the ready for my best friend, Jake Parker, to show up. Earlier this morning, I woke up to a pie in the face thanks to him and figured it was time to return the favor.
So when he left for the gym in the morning, I took it upon myself to walk to the village and grab a frozen lemon meringue pie that I let thaw.
Given how hot it can get in July, and in Los Angeles of all places, it didn’t take very long.
Every time I hear something move even slightly, I can’t help but turn my head to see if that’s Jake, but it always ends up being some neighbor passing by, taking out the trash or a car horn.
It’s Thursday morning, for crying out loud. How are the streets so busy?
Jake and I arrived yesterday and two of our roommates—Adrian and Enzo—are supposed to be coming later this evening. There’s much more for me to do, like settle into my room, but it can wait once I get even with Jake.
I check my watch, seeing the hour hand at one. How long does it take someone to work out? Jake is not even a gym rat.
The creaky fence alerts me and the sound of crunching dirt gets louder, breaking me out of my thoughts. Finally, he’s here. Pie in hand and determination set, I lunge out of my hiding place and smack the pie square onto his face.
A gasp takes me by surprise, because of how high-pitched it was. As far as I know, we don’t have any girls living in the house in front of us.
I realize that the footsteps I heard earlier do not belong to my best friend. The people—yes, I mean people—were actually two unfamiliar girls around my age. One of whom is now covered in lemon meringue pie from the neck up.
A short girl with long dark braids has one hand over her mouth and stands at a distance from me and her—I assume—friend. Her brown eyes are wide as we watch her friend wipe the filling from her eyes and mouth.
“Oh. My. Gosh.” The girl covered in pie narrows her bright hazel-green eyes at me. “Are you fucking insane?!”
Holy cracked knuckles, she’s got a set of lungs.
“Hey, what’s with all the comm—oh shit!” Jake stops in his tracks and takes in the scene in front of him. His jaw drops slightly when he realizes what just happened.
I narrow my eyes at him. “You couldn’t have come earlier?”
He shakes his head and walks around the girl, towards our house. “You dug this grave on your own, Carson! I’m staying out of this shit.”That son of a bitch.
Clearly, I’ve never put myself in a situation like this before—thrown pie at an unsuspecting cute girl and gotten yelled at by said girl—so I’m a little lost for words at the moment. All that falls out of my mouth is, “I swear that was an accident.”
But the brunette standing in front of me is full of more words than a dictionary. “Yeah, and Iaccidentallychose to live in front of an overgrown child. Totally my fucking mistake.”
She turns on her heels and storms off. Her friend doesn’t follow behind, instead choosing to stay in her spot. “You definitely made an impression on her.”
I let out a breath and run one hand through my brown hair. “You think she’ll forget?”
She scoffs. “Never. Diana doesn’t forget things like that. I’m just glad it didn’t hit me.”
Ah, so the spitfire has a name. I arch a brow at the girl in braids. “You wouldn’t want pie in the morning?”
“I wouldn’t want pie at all,” she emphasizes before holding out her hand to me. “I’m Lucia, by the way. We just started moving our stuff in so she’s a little tight-wounded. Don’t mind her.”
I grab her hand and shake it. For a girl so small, she’s got a tight grip. “Well, I hope she doesn’t hold it over me for the next twelve months.” I glance at the trail leading to the gate, where drops of pie filling lead like footsteps, getting smaller and smaller.
Lucia laughs. “With Diana, anything’s possible.”
“Even forgiveness?”
