“You’re such an ass, Mr. Dick!” Charli laughs, pushing a wave of water at my face.
I swim toward her, snatching her wrist and stopping another onslaught. She laughs and rests her hand on my shoulder. Our clothes are drenched and we need to get out before our bodiestire, but I give her a friendly little dunk before heading for the ladder.
Her head pops back up and she wipes her face with a laugh, then follows me.
“Come on, Chuck.” I climb up, then reach down to help her, but she flicks me away with a laugh.
“I can do it.”
That’s been her catchphrase since she was five.“I can do it. I can do it.”
She’s spent her life keeping up with Darian and me.
I still remember the first time I met her. She was playing on the street outside our houses, and I was watching her through the window. She was messing around on a skateboard and obviously had no idea what she was doing, but damn was she determined to figure it out.
I saw her hit the ground with a thud and rushed out the door.
Her knee was bleeding pretty bad and I could tell it really hurt, but she refused to cry.
“You okay?” I bent down to help her up, but she flicked my hand away.
“I can do it.” Popping back to her feet, she stared down at her grazed knee. Blood was glistening from the wound, a trickle heading down to her ankle, but she sniffed and muttered, “It’s just blood.”
“A little red sauce to brighten up your day, huh?” I was a bit dubious when I said that, and I don’t even know what made me say it.
But she looked at me, snorted, then let out this cackling laugh.
And that’s when I knew she was gonna be my best friend.
Well, that and the fact that her brother came running out of the house moments later. Within five minutes, we were helping Charli nail the ollie… and the rest is history.
I don’t know what I’d do without them.
They kept me sane, let me sneak into their bedroom and sleep on the floor between them when Mom and Dad wouldn’t stop yelling. They pulled me into their family, and I became an honorary Gomez… although Charli won’t quit calling me Mr. Dick whenever she gets the chance.
I guess that’s what happens when your last name is Richards.
The day she found out that Dick is short for Richard, she laughed so hard I thought she was gonna pee her pants. I think she actually did a little bit. But she didn’t care. She was so happy that my last name could be shortened to Dick.
And so it has been ever since I was eight.
Mr. Dick.
Stepping back, I make way for her sopping wet body to walk past me before trailing her into the house.
My lil’ Chuck.
Equal parts the bane of my existence and the greatest joy in my life.
8
CHARLI
My clothes stick to me,making weird squelching noises as I walk back to the house. Sawyer is right behind me, and Ican’t help laughing to myself. He got me so good! That chocolate sauce prank was genius, and I’m already thinking of ways I can get him back. My mind is racing with possibilities, going over past pranks and rejecting them. This one needs to be messy. I can’t go for a simple scare or something humiliating. That boy behind me needs something epic. Something that will force him to shower or plunge into the lake again just to get clean.
I’m kind of glad he pulled me in after him because I got most of the chocolate syrup out of my hair. Think I’m still going to need a shower, though.
Patting the back of my thick, quickly matting hair, I internally groan. I’ve always struggled to manage it. When I was a kid, I hated brushing it, and Mama had to force me to stand there after every hair wash while she patiently worked on it with a wide-tooth comb. As I got older, she forced me to learn all about hair care and the power of a decent conditioner. I hated it, but I’m kind of grateful now. Thankfully, I packed my conditioner and will slather it on after I’ve washed my hair.
