Kline watches the whole exchange go down before storming out the back door on a huff. The door slams behind him and leavesthe rest of us standing there speechless. Or what should be speechless. My father, unfortunately, is missing the gene.
“After all I’ve done for that fluffing asshole,” Thatch mutters. “This is the thanks I get? Come on, Cass, we’re leaving.”
Cassie and Georgia make apologetic eyes at each other, and Gunnar shoves away from the wall to follow my dad, flipping Evie the bird. To which she just blows him another kiss. And I linger there, unsure what to do or where to go from here that won’t make things even worse than they already are.
“Lia,” I turn to whisper, hoping she’ll have some kind of answer.
“It’s okay,” she whispers back. “I’ll cool him down. Just…make sure you get rid of that fucking crocodile and pronto.”
I jerk my chin at Finn, and he moves around Scottie to come help me lift the offending Rubbermaid off the counter and carry it outside.
But Nathan is already pulling away from the curb when we get outside, and my dad is hanging out the back window, shooting me the finger.
I sigh as Finn and I set Crocky on the ground, and I pull my phone out of my pocket to call Gary.
“So…fun party,” Finn says as Crocky hisses and thrashes his tail around in the container so hard that both Finn and I have to place our hands on the top to keep it from falling on its side.
Oh yeah. A fucking thrill and a half.
Especially considering my goal to win Julia over just got ten times harder. I’m not in the fold—I’m officially removed entirely.
Friday, July 4th
Ace
The Fourth of July at Aunt Paula and Uncle Brad’s—aka the Winslow family’s—lake house isn’t so much a holiday as it is a generational event. A full-cast production of chaos and food, laughter and fireworks explosions, and overrun with more relatives and friends than should be able to fit in the cabin.
Everyone’s here.
Julia’s family—Kline, Georgia, and her sister Evie—claimed the guest rooms with lake views. My parents and my lunatic brother Gunnar, who set up a floating beer pong table in the shallow end of the lake the instant he got here.
Finn’s whole family—his mom Helen and his siblings Reece, Jack, Travis, and Willow—rolled in with enough snacks to feed a teenage militia.
Of course, the Winslow clan descended in full force. Wes and Winnie are here with their kids, Lexi and Wes Jr., plus the Winslow brothers—Remy, Ty, Jude, Flynn—and their spouses and kids.
And Scottie and my good buddy Blake Boden are here too.
It’s loud. It’s crowded. It smells like sunscreen, burgers, and the practice fireworks my dad and Gunnar have already shot off.
In the water beside me, Julia floats on a pink flamingo inner tube, looking like summer incarnate. The corner of her mouth curls up as she laughs at something Blake says, and I watch in awe. The sun reflects the lake water in her blue eyes, and her blond hair looks lighter by the day from all the time we’re spendingoutdoors this summer. She has it loosely tied on the top of her head, and her bright white and red-striped bathing suit sticks partially out of the water as she continues to float on the bright-pink inner tube.
Finn, Scottie, and Lexi have posted up on the deck, watching us through keen eyes and shaded sunglasses, and all the other Hayes siblings are on a mission to the grocery store two counties over for more beef since we’ve already bought out everything within a twenty-five mile radius.
I feel badly for Scottie—wondering if it makes her sad to think about how she would have been in the water with us, swimming, if things were like before. She’s handling it well, and Finn would more than willingly hold her in a doggy paddle of his own for sixteen straight hours if she wanted him to, but I can’t help but feel like this is one of those reminders of her rapidly changing world because of her tragic spinal injury.
Nothing is promised. Nothing is guaranteed.
And if you’re me, you might just realize you’re in love with a girl you’ve known since you were born in one flash of an instant. She’s been texting whatshisface on and off today, and I’ll be fucked if I can’t come up with a way to distract her completely. I need to be funnier. I need to be more interesting. I need to make big moves.
I need to move on to the next phase ofAce’s Plan to Woo Julia.
Especially given that our families are practically the fucking Hatfields and the McCoys since my dad tried to give Kline Brooks a crocodile for his birthday last week. After the big blowout at the Brookses’ house, I ended up taking Crocky to a reptile habitat in the city, where he is now safely living his best life. My dad was annoyed—the big bastard thought we could just keep the fucking crocodile—but when I explained that our pig might end up bacon, he gave up on the wild plan.
Truth be told, the fact that both of our families are even here together is a minor miracle all on its own, one I spent many days and nights facilitating in every way possible, but I am officially behind the curve in the race to be the guy Julia Brooks ends up with one day.
And I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit.
I swim over to the edge of Julia’s flamingo, my arms draped over a pool noodle, and look up at her as she tips her sunglasses down the length of her nose. “Your shoulders are getting a little pink,” I tell her. “In a few minutes, we should get out so I can put more sunscreen on for you.”
