Not Sam.
It’s Axl, and I’ve drenched him. One of my feet slides back, as I entertain the idea of running into the bathroom and refusing to come out.Why did Sam set me up like that?
Little brothers are the worst.
Sam and my parents stand slack-jawed in the adjacent kitchen, laughing like a pack of hyenas.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, struggling to know what to do. I should run back and grab a towel for him, but I should also take a minute to explain why I was acting like a feral ten-year-old boy. “I thought you were my brother.”
His lips bend slowly, as if he’s testing to make sure the attack is over. It’s the first glimpse that he’s not going to be mad at me. “I understand . . .?” His statement comes out like a question, and my cheeks flame with massive rage at Sam for putting me in this situation.
“I’ll grab a towel for you.” I spin on my heel in a hustle to the bathroom when an entire gulf stream offreezingwater blasts my back. I scream, so confused. One glance over my shoulder confirms that Axl’s in on it!
He’s pulled a gun out from somewhere, and he’s firing this way!
How did that happen? Sam must have got to Axl first and set this whole thing up.
I’m laughing and screaming all the way back to the bathroom. Once again, I slam the door as a barrier. I grab two towels, wrapping one around myself, and crack the door open, calling out, “Okay, you won. We need to call a truce before the parents get mad.”
“Truce.” There’s nothing sus in his tone, and I peek my head out. His gun sits on the floor at the end of the hall, and he’s walking toward me. “Would you believe me if I said Sam made me do that?”
“Actually, I do believe you.” I push the door open all the way, and throw a towel at him, fully seeing he got soaked much worse than I did, “This is his thing.” I drag the towel over the puddles on the floor. “I see you already met everyone.” I motion to the chorus of snickering still piping out from my parents in thekitchen. As I turn back, it’s obvious to both Axl and me that a towel isn’t going to dry him off. “I’m so sorry. Dad,” I say, raising my voice, trying to cut through the laughter rushes. “Can you lend Axl a shirt?”
Dad rises to his feet, every smile line on his face deepening as he ushers Axl back to his room, and I’m left standing in the hall.“Sam,” I murmur under my breath. “I’m going to change, and when I get back out here, remind me to kill you.”
His laughter calls my bluff, and I’m not chuckling as I playfully glare at him. He’s not even wet. His dark hair lies perfectly against his head, and his gamer T-shirt looks like it just came out of the dryer. As much as Sam can be sooo annoying, I’m oddly grateful for this distraction. My nerves about kissing Axl have calmed and everyone is laughing. It’s not how Iexpectedthis introduction to go, but the ice is clearly broken.
sixteen
Axl
I feel uncomfortable as Sophie’s dad takes me back to his room, but I hum in my head to get through it. He’s chatty, telling me his name is Shawn. Apparently, everyone in this family has S names, with her mom being Susan. That’s cute. I’m sure he’s sending me a subliminal message when he hands me a T-shirt from his closet that says, “Dads Against Daughters Dating.” The worddatingis in one of those warning circles with an X over it. Good thing we are only fake dating. I can’t help but tease a grin and say, “Thanks.”
I return to the kitchen, and Sophie’s still sputtering out little rushes of laughter. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were here.”
“It’s only water.” I chuckle, still seeing the image of her shocked expression in my head. That was priceless. Everything I expected it to be and more. She’s just one of those chill girls that’s easy to hang out with.
“Thanks, bruh.” Sam reaches over for a high-five. “That was so fire!”
I smack his hand, strangely feeling like we’re part of some club. “You’re welcome,bruh.” I’ve never been up on Gen Z lingo, but it’s sort of fun to pretend to know what it means. Plus, bruh feels good to say. It hangs in your throat and sounds tough.
“Dinner is ready,” Susan calls from the kitchen as she’s busy setting the salad and potatoes on the table. All the food is dished into matching white tableware and looks very inviting.
Sophie leads me to the modest wood table in the center of the kitchen, and we all shuffle around it, filling the seats. “I feel like we’re doing this backwards, seeing as how you met everyone already. I’m sorry I didn’t get to the door when you came. I honestly didn’t hear the doorbell.”
“I didn’t ring it.” I laugh again, recalling how it all went down. “I pulled up to the house, and right away I saw the bushes moving. I thought it was a raccoon, but it was awfully animated.”
“The bushes were moving?” Sophie’s face stills and her eyes widen. She must have anxiety about these kinds of things. “Huh, did you see anyone—I mean anything?”
“Yeah, it was your brother. He was waving me closer to tell me his plan.”
“It was only Sam.” Sophie’s eyes shift side to side before she tacks on, “You didn’t see anybody else?”
It was my turn to shift my eyes side to side. “Was I supposed to find someone else?”
“No,” she blurts out and then rushes to add, “I mean, it’s just weird. Sort ofscaryto think about someone hiding in the bushes.” She elbows her brother. “Glad it was just you, Sam.”
Sophie must have some phobia of being snuck up on or something, because her entire facial expression has changed. Maybe living with a brother who is always starting water fights makes her paranoid?
