“Hey,” he says, stepping toward us.
And then he instinctively bends down like he’s about to kiss me.
I see someone walking up behind him.
Barron.
Porter’s father.
Oh hell.
Time slows down in that horrible way it does right before something goes very wrong.
So, I do the only thing my panicking brain can think of.
I drop the snow cone.
The icy blue mountain slips from my hand and smashes into the ground right between us.
Slush explodes everywhere.
Cold, syrupy ice splatters across Porter’s jeans.
Across his boots.
And, most tragically, across his nice white henley.
Porter jumps back. “Son of a bitch, that’s cold!”
He looks down at his shirt in horror as bright blue stains spread across the fabric.
Ruby bursts into giggles.
I press my lips together so hard that they nearly disappear, trying not to laugh.
Porter looks up at me slowly.
His eyes narrow.
I give him my most innocent expression. “Oops.”
He leans in close enough that only I can hear him. “You did that on purpose.”
I clear my throat. “Your father is right there,” I say through gritted teeth.
He glances over his shoulder, and awareness dawns on him. “Oh.”
Behind him, Barron is now only a few steps away.
Porter straightens.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from losing it.
He looks down at the sticky blue mess again. “Damn it.”
Ruby is practically wheezing with laughter now.
Porter glances at her. “Sorry, kid.”
