"You're gonna be wasted before we even leave," I say. She ignores me. Her eyes are stuck on something outside. I follow her gaze. Gio's house. Daisy lets out a soft gasp. "Isn't he just perfect?"
I blink. "Uh, yeah? Why do you think I cried over him?" She shoots me a look. "I meant Lorenzo, you dumbass." I look through Gio's open window, and Lorenzo is there too. Shirtless. Putting on his rings. "Oh."
She grabs her drink and leans on the windowsill. "Look at him. He's a vision. I wanna bite him." I laugh. "Must be something in their blood. Genetics working overtime in that family."
She nods solemnly. "If I die tonight, let it be from being crushed under that man. By the way, I'm just so proud of my little baby brother who's gonna be a tiny sweet little schoolteacher," she says, voice cracking dramatically. "Come on. One shot for us."
She hands me one. I squint at her. "I'm only drinking this because that sentence almost made me cry."
We clink and down it. Right then, the door creaks open and mom steps inside. "Oh great," she says flatly. "Pour one for me too." I look at her, surprised. "What's going on with you?"
She walks in, pulls my chair back, and drops herself onto it like a queen sick of her kingdom. "I think I'm getting a divorce," she says, like she is announcing the weather. "I've had it."
Daisy and I freeze. Then look at each other like, okay?!?
Daisy reaches over and turns the speaker volume down, mid-Freek-A-Leek.
Because discussing our parents' potential divorce with Petey Pablo moaning in the background would be…inappropriate.
"Honestly, I'm very neutral on the subject. And just so you know, he keeps threatening to hurt Gio," I add. "Also, I'm not over that slap. I'm sorry, but he has completely lost my respect. He treats all of us so poorly. Especially me."
Daisy wraps her arms around her shoulders. "Look, between us? Rava's right. We all deserve better. You, us. I'm sorry dad doesn't see what a great woman he has. And how lucky he is with the kids he got. No offense." She leans back, staring her in the eye.
"I'm not gonna tell you 'don't divorce' or 'try harder.' I know you already have. Whatever you decide, you've got us. That's not changing."
Mom smiles. "You mean that? Or is that the Bacardi talking?" "I mean every damn word," Daisy says. Then she shoos her toward the door.
"Go do something distracting. We'll talk when the honorable Mr. Father decides to return to his home. Jesus." As we are getting ready to walk out, mom looks at us over her glasses. "Be careful where you're going," she warns. "Don't drink anything you didn't see opened yourself. Watch your stuff. And please go easy on the Fontanas."
I snort. "Mom, you realize I'm not seventeen anymore, right? The fact that I've been gone for four years doesn't mean I stopped aging. As for Daisy, she's like a grandma now," I add, smirking as I grab my towel. Daisy spins around mid-bikini-adjustment. "BITCH, WE ARE BOTH STILL IN OUR TWENTIES."
"Not inmyhead," I mutter, dodging a flip-flop she launches at me. She lunges, and I swerve behind the chair. Mom rolls hereyes. "I swear to God, I will put you two on sale. I'll find some old lady who'll gladly take you as rescue cases. Calm the hell down!"
I laugh. "Alright, alright, we're going. Breathe." Daisy sprints ahead of me, grabbing the speaker, two bottles, and six random things we do not need. "For God's sake," I yell after her, "we're going out for one night, not relocating!"
Gio
At the beach
We step onto the beach and the party is already halfway to hell. There are people everywhere.
Loud music, lights from portable speakers flashing in pinks and reds. Bottles half-buried in the sand, smoke in the air, weed, probably. Or oregano, who knows with these kids.
Daisy is two steps ahead of us, dragging Lorenzo by the wrist and screaming something about body shots. The speakers are blasting reggaeton. Rava is walking next to me. His chain catches the moonlight.
He looks good. Too good to be walking next to someone like me. And he's mine. I almost wanna fight someone just to prove it. We make it past a circle of drunk college kids singing aggressively off-key.
Someone throws a glow stick at Lorenzo's head. He doesn't even blink, he's too busy doing a ridiculous dance move and yelling.
"TONIGHT WE CELEBRATE OUR ACADEMIC BITCH!" "Is this what it's like dating a celebrity?" I shout to Rava's ear. He shrugs, pretending to be modest. "Better get used to it!"
We finally find a spot under some crooked-ass tree near the edge of the party. Lorenzo is already unzipping his bag, kicks off his slippers and groans.
"I'm sweating in places I didn't even know I could sweat." Then he turns to a dude leaning against the tree, sipping something pink and probably deadly.
"I've known you for exactly two seconds," he says, pointing at him, "but you don't give off thief energy. Can you watch our stuff while we take a dive, right after a shot?"
The dude raises an eyebrow but smiles. "Only if we get a shot too. What are we celebrating?"
