“Because we could be doing better things with our evil-genius-style skills, Sid.”
Asher never calls me Sid. Unless you count the night he was drunk—the night he kissed me. It sends a warm fuzzy ball into my stomach that makes me uncomfortable and a little nauseous. “What do you propose?”
“I propose we combine forces against a common enemy.”
The only other people around are our parents, and I don’t see it going over well if we turn our attention to them. “I can’t sabotage my mom’s shampoo, I still need my parents to help pay for college. Andmyshampoo,” I say. “That crap’s expensive.” I hold a lock of hair in my fingers. “I have to buy sulfate-free shampoo, and special conditioner, and these special extra-soft towels, just to keep this hair in check,” I say matter-of-factly, stopping myself from the nervous ramble that is waiting just behind my lips.
“Nadine,” Asher murmurs, and I turn to look at him, not sure I heard him correctly. “We call a truce on all of our crap with each other. And we focus on making Nadine’s summer without us so much worse than it ever was with us there.”
“That’s…” I think about it for a minute—let it marinate in my brain a little. It’s immature. So childish. “… super spiteful,” I scold, and his face drops a little. I turn my eyes to the water and then back at him. “I like it.”
He smiles and I can’t help but do the same. “So you’re in?” His voice is hopeful and surprised.
“I’m in.”
Asher
“Should we talk details?” Sidney asks. “Is this a permanent cease-fire? Or for certain hours? Or just when we’re together on a mission?”
I snort at the wordmission.I guess I’m not the only one in my own imaginary one-person army around here.
“And are we talking all summer, or just until Nadine is thoroughly punished?” I’m not sure Sidney has taken a breath yet.Or blinked. “And whatisthe goal with her, anyway? Do you think we should—”
Here we go.“Sidney?”
“Asher?”
My name holds the same amount of disdain as usual, except it’s coming from right next to me, as opposed to our usual sparring distance, so it stings a little more.
“It’s been ten seconds since I suggested this. We don’t need a detailed strategy just yet. Can you calm your control-freak brain for two seconds?”
She narrows her eyes at me, but it seems like she’s having to try a lot harder than usual to look annoyed with me. Maybe it’s all in my head. “You’ll appreciate my attention to detail now that we’re on the same side.”
I hold my crossed fingers up in the air between us and she rolls her eyes. “I’m counting on it. Otherwise, what else can you really offer?”
“Whatever,” she mutters. “You’ll be sor—”
I laugh as she stumbles on the last word. “Go ahead,” I challenge. “Finish it.”
“Sorry.”
“Sorry you said it?”
She shrugs. “Sorry I forgot already. Being on the same side might take some getting used to.” She looks at me with a truly puzzled look on her face. “What am I supposed to do with all of the extra time I’d usually spend”—she looks around like she’s searching the night air for the word she needs—“plotting?”
I was going to say torturing.“I don’t know, I guess we just plottogether? And we do normal summer stuff? Like we used to?” My eyes have fully adjusted to the dark and I can see the pained expression on her face. “I’m not saying we have to do it together,” I add, just to make sure we’re on the same page. “I mean, the plotting, yes. But the other stuff…”
She doesn’t let me finish. “Plan.”
DAY 11
Sidney
I’m not a mean person. I’m really not. And while I don’t love parties and huge groups of strangers, I’m not straight-up antisocial, either. So it probably shouldn’t be this hard to force myself out of bed. Why does the thought of sitting at our kitchen table with him make me feel like my bed is the only place I could ever be truly happy? Any normal person would think that not being in a feud with someone would make life so much easier.
Except that when someone has been your nemesis for long enough, it’s not easy to switch off that little voice in your head. The one that says you have to be alert. Watch for traps, be prepared for retaliation. Set your own traps before he catches you in one of his. Do. Not. Trust. Because what if this truce is the longest prank ever? Asher seemed genuine when he suggested the truce—and Idowant to make Nadine’s life miserable—but that voice is still screaming in my head, telling me that now is not the time to let down my guard and trust him.
I glance at the clock; it’s 6:02. I’ve already listened to the soundtrack of Asher’s morning. The open and close of his door, the bathroom faucet turning on. Does he brush his teethbeforehe gets in the shower? Weirdo. He took a short shower—barely long enough to have washed everything—and then there wasthe click of the door again. Listening to it all felt a little bit like being in the bathroom with him; my room even faintly smells like his body wash now.As if this whole situation could get any more disturbing.
