Blue smirks, knocking his fist with mine. “I know.”
“Fuck you, and fuck you,” Stanley calls out.
We all laugh. The guy who cracks the joke can’t take a hit himself.
I sink the last cup.
“Reeve,” Stanley protests.
I mutter, “Stan. Drink your water.”
He picks up the beer with the rules of the game and downs it. He slams it on the table. He points at Percy across the room.
“Deveroux. Reckoning.”
I put the ball down and walk to the side of the dining room. Blue is already there with my beer. He hands it to me without saying anything, and we lean on the wall together. We watch Stanley try to start a fight with our goalie in a language he does not speak.
Blue takes a drink.
The front door opens. And I see my sister’s face. She is in her Wolves crewneck and jeans, and she has her hair up in a high ponytail. Behind her is Mara, whom I have seen at this house a few times. Mara is in something black and short. She’s holding her phone and a half-empty White Claw. Behind Mara is Lucy.
My throat tightens at the sight of her. I didn’t expect to see her here. She’s in dark jeans and a black top. Her hair is down. She is laughing at something Mara said, and her cheeks are pink, and the laugh is — it’s a real laugh. It’s not the laugh she did over the chocolate yesterday.
Gianna spots me and lifts a hand. I lift mine back.
Lucy hasn’t seen me yet.
Blue, who has been watching me watch the doorway, “Who’s that?”
“My sister and her friends.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Reeve.”
“What?” I mutter.
“I know that’s your sister, and I know that’s Mara. She always comes with G to these things.” He leans in. “I mean, who is that in the black top?”
“My tutor.”
His eyes widen. “Thatis your tutor?”
“Yes.”
He looks at me one more time over the rim, and then he pushes off the wall.
“I’m gonna go talk to Percy.”
“Subtle.”
“That’s me. The subtle one.”
He goes. I stay at the window.
Lucy is in the kitchen now. I can see her through the doorway. She’s talking to Gianna who hands her a Solo cup. I’m certain that it has Percy’s punch in it. I shouldn’t walk over there yet. I drink my beer and come up with a plan.
The plan lasts two minutes.
Wexler corners me on the way to the bathroom. He has been working up the courage for thirty minutes, because I saw him drift toward me twice and abort both times, and he is nowstanding in front of me with both hands wrapped around his Solo cup.
