Day 19
Sidney
I was joking when I asked Asher what I was going to do with all of the time I’d spent plotting, but almost a week has passed since we met at the dock and I’m surprised by how true it actually is.
Without pranks to think about and plan for, and recover from, I don’t just have more time—I feel lighter.
And even if it’s not going to last all summer, I’m not ready to jeopardize it.
So when Asher gives me a tiny wave as he walks past the deck—where I’m lying out on one of the lounge chairs—I wave back.
There’s a towel tucked under his arm, and he’s heading down the steps, toward the dock.
Despite our breakfasts together the last week, our new normal has been to hang out in our own little areas.
Me on the deck, sometimes with the moms or Kara, and Asher out on the dock.
I feel a little bad about it. It’s pretty out on the dock, surrounded by water, but it is not comfortable out on the uneven wood planks.
Even with the two towels Asher lays down.
Yesterday I considered that maybe I should buy him one of those cheap plastic floats to lie on.
But now, I’m realizing there is a much easier solution.
“Hey.” The word is out of my mouth before I can stop myself. Asher stops in his tracks. “You can chill up here. I mean, if you want to. It’s not my private area or anything. We’re sharing the house, you know. Mi deck es su deck. Or something like that…” I’m rambling. Why am I rambling?
He steps up onto the wooden deck and spreads his towel on the chair next to me without a word.
We sit there, side by side, reading our books for at least an hour before we say anything.
Every little sound we make seems to echo in the air, the soft brushing of the papers under our fingers, the squeak of our chairs as we shift around.
I’ve abandoned my book and am lying with my eyes closed, almost asleep, when Asher’s voice breaks the noisy silence around us.
“Do you want to ride together to that party tomorrow night?”
I forgot the party was tomorrow.
It’s hard to keep the days straight up here.
There’s no school, no jobs, we hardly even watch TV.
Somehow three weeks of vacation have flown past. And there’s nothing to separate the weekend from every other day.
I told Kara I’d go to this party, since I survived the first one.
Since it seems to be the only time I can see her this summer.
The party Kara assured me Caleb isn’t going to, because he’s visiting a friend a few hours away.
“I sort of owe you one.”
I turn to look at him, startled when I open my eyes to find his too close to me. We’re in mirror positions on our chairs, our faces a foot apart. I don’t understand how a foot can feel so close, or why he thinks he’d owe me anything. It was my mom who forced us to drive together to the last party.
He raises his brows like I’m missing the obvious.
“You probably barely remember, because I’m such a graceful, charming drunk.
” A giant smile spreads across his face, the kind of self-amused smile I used to see as he was saying, How much do you hate me right now?
“But there was that whole thing after the last party.”
I close my eyes for just a second, but it’s long enough to remember everything that happened that night.
It sends a tight knot of unease into my stomach.
Drunk. He was drunk, Sidney. He only did it to screw you up for your date.
I have to look away from him. “Oh right, when you almost died in your own vomit.” I say it because I know how much it annoys him.
“I would never.”
I look at him and there’s that smile again.
“I’m way too pretty for that.”
“Mmhmm.”
“Did you just admit I’m pretty?”
“No.”
“You did.”
“I’m just not arguing with you anymore.” I turn to him with my own self-amused smile. “I’m the nicer one now. I plan on keeping it that way.”
“Excuse me?” He looks at me with complete confusion, and I throw my hand to my chest in mock horror.
“One word,” I say, holding up a single finger, just inches from his face. “Pancakes.” The word is almost a whisper on my lips.
“Oh, so now we’re keeping score?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Mmhmm.”
Asher closes his eyes, and I close mine, and we lie in our deck chairs in peaceful silence until Sylvie announces lunch with a yell from the kitchen window, and we spring out of our chairs like we were just caught. What’s the punishment for conspiring with enemy forces?