An impassioned argument ensues. As usual, no one can agree on anything. We never could when it came to movies. Except that one summer when, inexplicably, we’d all decided, as though by magic, that it was the perfect time to watchThe Lord of the Ringstrilogy. The sun had shone, the pool had been open, and we’d all hunkered down, bleary-eyed and pale, stuck on the drama of Frodo, the intensity of Aragorn, and beauty of Legolas tossing his golden locks. It had become a quest: must finish, no matter how sore our butts had been. Even August, who usually eschewed such group get-togethers, had been sucked in.
Today, however, is not that day. March insists on a smashupcar chase. May and June want a fantasy series—truly, the power of Legolas remains an influence to this day.
“You’re going to have to break the tie,” March says to me. “Or we’ll get nowhere.”
“What tie?” June says with heat. “May and I agree. That’s two to one. We win.”
“A,” March holds up a finger. “You two are a freak hive mind when it comes to movie choices so that counts as one vote. And B...” He holds up another finger. “Pen gets a say. You never know, she might want my pick.”
“As much as I enjoy cars,” I deadpan, “I don’t think I’m up for another showing ofFast and FuriousFifty—The Furiouser.”
“Hey! It’sTen. The tenth one.”
“Which is, like, nine too many,” May says.
“Try ten too many,” June mutters.
March’s brows lift in outrage. “Did I say anything last Christmas when you two insisted we watchThe Devil Wears Prada? Yet again?”
“Yes. Frequently.” May sniffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “We could hardly hear the dialog over your commentary.”
“It added much-needed depth to the plot.” March shakes his head in disgust. “That chick wouldn’t even eat the grilled cheese sandwich. I’d have killed for that sandwich!”
“Why don’t you go make a sandwich now?”
March lobs a pillow in the direction of June’s head. Unfortunately, his aim is not as good or as fast as August’s. May ducks, and I get a face full of pillow.
“Ack!”
“Sorry, Penny.”
“March, you bonehead!”
“I said I was sorry. You all right, Penny?”
“All right? You nearly killed her. I’m telling Mom.”
Holy hell. We really have reverted to children.
“I feel like we’ve entered a bizarre time warp,” I tell themdarkly. “Next thing you know, May is going to stomp her feet and March will wet his pants.”
“I never!”
A rumbling chuckle cuts through the chaos. August stands in the doorway to the den and shakes his head. “I leave you kids alone for twenty minutes and look at all this squabbling.”
Quicksilver eyes find me. The impact of meeting his gaze does funny things to my insides. Maybe he knows this because his mouth quirks with humor. “I must say, Penelope. I didn’t know you’d had it in you to bring up The Pants Incident. Nice hit.”
Hot shame colors my cheeks and swarms along my skin. God, that was a low blow. I glance at March, but he grins back like he’s proud.
“We’ll corrupt her thoroughly by the time she leaves.”
“It’s already too much.” I cover my face with my hands. “I’m sorry, March.”
“Don’t back down now,” March says. “That was a wicked bad hit.”
I shake my head, refusing to look up. I could say it was shame making me hide, but that would be a lie. My heart beats fast and light. My skin has gone tight and sensitive. It’s as though I’ve been shocked into full wakefulness. And it’s all because of August. I don’t want this awareness. It’s uncomfortable and inconvenient. At the very least, when we were younger, my discomfort came from the way he ignored me.
He’s not ignoring me now. And it’s unsettling. I can actually feel him enter the room. It’s like a useless superpower.
