7. Sawyer
SAWYER
I had to google how to set this prank up. I knew what I wanted to do and planned in advance. I can’t go away with Charli for a weekend and not prank her. That’s like a sin against the Gods of Humor.
She started this war years ago. At least I think it was her.
We were washing her parents’ cars, trying to earn a few bucks to buy snow cones. I was doing the best job I could, wanting to impress her parents. They’ve always been so good to me, and I’d freaking do anything for them.
Charli was on the other side of the car and she let out this wail, like she’d hurt herself or something. I rushed around, my heart in my throat, and got a face full of water.
Her cackling laugh was kind of adorable as I stood there, drenched in dirty, sudsy car water. Waving the empty bucket in her hand, she did a small victory dance, and I immediately started planning my retaliation.
And it’s never stopped, which is why I’m hiding in the doorway across from the bathroom with my camera at the ready.
When she said she had to go to the bathroom, I knew she’d take a minute.
If it’s just a quick pee, she wouldn’t have bothered telling anybody.
It’s only when she announces it that I know she’s taking a dump, and she’ll probably be scrolling on her phone while she does it, which is why she takes so long.
And that’s perfect for me, because it gave me all the time I needed to set up a quick prank that is going to be beautiful.
My insides ping with anticipation as I hear her undo the lock, and I quickly press Record.
The second she pulls that door open, the cup of chocolate syrup I set up starts to fall, and she manages to look up in surprise just as it tips all over her.
“Yes!” I laugh at her squawk, then zoom in on her shock as she wipes chocolate syrup out of her eyes and across her cheeks.
“Sawyer!” she shouts.
“Hey, hey, Chuck.” I step into view, and she tries to glare at me, but her lips can’t hold it.
Licking the chocolate sauce dripping past her mouth, she lets out a playful growl, then starts laughing as she lunges toward me.
I’ve already mapped out my escape route, so I take off running for the second stairwell around the corner. Jumping down it, I land and roll, about to spring back to my feet when she lets out a banshee cry and vaults over the railing to tackle me.
I catch her with a laugh and let her smear chocolate syrup all over my face before pushing her off and scrambling back to my feet.
She pounces right after me when I rush out onto the deck and whip past Mac and Ben. I don’t know where I’m heading now, but she’s right on my heels and stays there until I reach the edge of the jetty.
Spinning, I raise my hands in surrender, but she’s not having it. A cannonball push to the chest and I’m flying back into the water, but not before snagging her shirt and pulling her in with me.
Her yell is a mix of shock and delight, and we’re soon under the surface.
I scramble back to the surface, making sure she’s right there with me.
I never want her to see how much I hate the water.
I decided a long time ago that it wasn’t allowed to scare me anymore, but I still get that hitch in my body every time my head goes under.
But Charli’s safe. She’s right here with me, pushing water into my face.
So I force out a laugh and get into it, kicking my legs and making sure we don’t float too far away from that ladder. I’m a good swimmer. I made sure of it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want dry land to be within easy reach.
“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 bodies tire, 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.