Chapter 4
Julia
Summertime, wealth, and the freedom of a weekend when you’re a college student is a dangerous combo.
It’s pushing noon by the time I finally drag myself out of bed, last night’s makeup smudged and blond curls a mess. I’m still a little groggy from staying out way too late dancing at Groove, but I’m ready to see what today’s entertainment will hold.
I know not everyone lives like this—I’m truly not that self-absorbed—but I’d be a fool not to enjoy it while I can. Dickson University won’t last forever, and according to my parents, the “real world” comes at you fast. Like, horrifyingly fast. With taxes and meetings and a Roth IRA.
I’ll have plenty of time to be steady, reliable, and respectable—boring—later. For now, I’m young, alive, fairly responsible, and excelling in my only obligations of good grades, good vibes, being kind, and hanging out with my friends.
My dad owns Brooks Media, one of the biggest tech strongholds and in-house marketing firms in the world. His dating app, TapNext, basically invented online romance, and now he’s worth literal billions.
Sometimes I forget we’re rich. Like…obscenely, what-even-is-money rich. But that’s probably because my dad’s idea of luxury is a well-seasoned grill and his favorite hoodie from college. I’m incredibly privileged, but I’m privileged in a Ford, you know?
We don’t own a yacht. We don’t summer in Monaco, and our yearly holidays revolve around my parents forcing my younger sister Evie and me on trips to our cabin in the Catskills. It’s the opposite of what you’d think a billionaire would do with his money. But that’s my dad, Mr. Humility.
However, the fact that my dad’s wealth could have us sitting on our own superyacht in the South of France is freaking insane when I let myself really think about it.
Once I’m awake enough to focus, I do what I always do first thing in the morning—grab my phone and text Ace.
Our families are practically fused at this point.
Our parents fell in love around the same time, built their empires of wealth at the same time, and popped out kids who were apparently soul-bound from birth.
Ace and I grew up together. We’ve been best friends since before we knew what friendship was. Since before we had teeth.
Me: Gooood morning! Where did you go last night? Gary said you sent him back for me but didn’t say why you ghosted.
When he doesn’t answer almost a minute later, I send another.
I’m not afraid to be myself with Ace. I can be demanding and demon-text, and I don’t have to choose my words carefully.
We’ve known each other since before we could toddle—before we could think—and I know he’d never judge me for something so stupid.
He might fake judge me, for the sake of a joke or running commentary, but he’d never do it for real.
He’s the most open-minded, kindhearted guy in the world.
It’s not just forced proximity that makes him my best friend—he earns the title too.
Me: Helloooooo. Earth to Ace! Time to wake up, sweetie pie! Rise and shineeeeee. You know I’m going to keep texting until you answer, so you might as well just roll over now.
Me: No, don’t be rude and smack me off the nightstand. Just answer me and I’ll stop pinging you!
Me: Ow, buddy! That hurt. Am I damaged? Do you need to take me to the phone store?
An answering message finally vibrates in my hands, and I celebrate, throwing my arms up over my head and doing a little dance before pulling them back down to read it.
Ace: You think you know me huh? I’ll have you know I’m well-rested Up conquering the day
Me: Where did you go last night?
Ace: To crazy town dude. I got home to Gunnar here back from the bahamas without Cassie or Thatcher’s knowledge
Me: WHAT? How did he get back?
Ace: Spirit Airlines or some shit I dunno I don’t know how we have the same dna
Me: Haha. Okay, then. Let’s move on to what’s really important. What are we doing today?
Ace: No clue. Something together tho
Me: Well, duh! How about I get ready and meet you at your parents’ place in an hour?
Ace: No, I’ll come pick you up
My eyebrows draw together, but I shrug. I’m all the way at my parents’ house in Jersey, but whatever.
If he wants to come pick me up, it’s probably because we’re going to end up in Ocean City, Maryland, eating crab or something.
Ace is always dragging me along into spontaneous shit, and as much as I pretend to protest, I secretly love it.
He’s controlled chaos, and my life would be far too boring without his brand of fun.
Me: Okay. See you soon!
Stretching widely, I get up from my bed with a toss of my white comforter and run on my toes across the air-conditioned hardwood floor to my bathroom. I flip on the light, and the heated floor, and turn on the shower to scalding levels.
While it warms, I admire my youthful glow in the mirror, despite still being covered in last night’s makeup.
I know rolling out of bed and looking this bright-eyed and bushy-tailed won’t last forever either, and Ace’s mom is always reminding me to “kiss my tits while I can still reach them.” Seriously, her words, not mine.
“Maybe I should be a little sluttier,” I whisper to myself cheekily before shaking my head with a laugh.
I’ve never been the loose-as-a-goose type, and sleeping with random guys at the drop of a dusty, crusty dinner date seems like the very thing that would make my father’s humble-billionaire head explode.
But I’ve never had an actual long-term boyfriend. Not even in high school. I’ve hooked up. I’ve even had sex…once after senior prom with underwhelming results. I’ve gone on dates but never actually dated anyone for longer than a month or two.
And I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
Like, should I be putting myself out there more? Should I be dating? Lord knows, Ace has been balls deep in the dating pool since we hit puberty.
“Julia!” my sister Evie yells, the shrill panic in her voice making me hold my ears. She’s fifteen—almost sixteen—and perpetually in crisis these days.
“Jeez, Evie,” I complain as she comes bursting into my bathroom without invitation. “I’m about to take a shower.”
“Thanks for the update, sis, I never would have guessed by the running water,” she replies smartly, her attitude temporarily pissing me off. “Though, I’m thankful your tits and bits are still covered.”
“Hey, genius, you’re in my room, on my time, without invitation, and clearly freaking out about something. If you want me to listen without kicking your ass out, you’d better take a chill pill.”
“Ugh, fine, sorry.” She huffs out a breath. “Queen Julia, master of your lair, may I please bestow my problems upon you?”
Poising my face with regal conviction, I bow. “That’s better. You may proceed.”
“I know you’ve been out of high school for a year, but this gossip has the kind of big boobs and an even bigger ego that’s unforgettable.
” My eyebrows draw together as she continues.
“Heather Donovan is running for class president against me this year, and she just put up a website claiming to have dirt on our father.”
The big boobs are making sense now, as Heather was always well-known at West Chester Prep for her G cup. I can’t even imagine the back problems she’s going to have in twenty years, but for now, she relishes the attention too much to get them reduced.
“It’s summer, Evie. School isn’t back in session for, like, two months. Why are you busy with your reelection?”
“Did you just hear anything I said?” Evie glares at me. “Heather Donovan says she has dirt on Dad.”
“Dirt on Daddy?” I shake my head. “That doesn’t exist. Don’t stress.”
Evie rolls her eyes. “Wow, I never thought of that, thank you. Come on, get real! I looked at the site, and she’s got screenshots of Dad sending ugly dick photos to women on TapNext! It’s his profile, his picture, his username! All of it!”
“Get real. That’s got to be AI.”
She purses her lips. “Well, I ran it through that AI-detection app that Lexi made, and it says it’s legit.”
Lexi Winslow is the daughter of my parents’ other best friends, Wes and Winnie Lancaster. She’s twenty-six, finishing up her second doctorate degree at Dickson, and quite literally the most brilliant human being you’ll ever meet.
She’s not just smart. She’s the smartest person in the room, always. So I can understand why Evie is freaking out, but I still have a hard time believing that our father has sent dick pics. Ever.
“Evie, come on.” I shake my head. “This is Kline Brooks we’re talking about, for Pete’s sake. He doesn’t do dick pics. He doesn’t do scandal. He does socks with sandals.”
“You’re wrong, Julia,” she refutes and starts typing something on her phone. “Just look at the website. Look at the photos before you make any assumptions.”
“Look at the dick pic photos?” I say on a disgusted laugh. “No way. You can leave now.”
“Just look at the photos!” she exclaims and starts moving toward me with her phone held out.
“I said no, Evie!” Immediately, I cover my eyes. “I am not looking at dick pics some high schooler is claiming our father sent!”
“Just look at them!” She’s all up in my personal space right now, trying to tug my hand away from my eyes. “Don’t be such a prude!”
“Don’t be a prude?” I retort on a screech. “Evie, this isn’t me being a prude. This is me protecting my freaking sanity!”
“Just look at them and tell me if it’s Dad’s dick!”
“Oh my God, Evie!” I shout and push her hands away from my face as I back up so far that my ass bumps into the glass shower wall.
“Have you lost your ever-loving mind? Like I’m going to be able to pick our father’s dick out of a lineup?
Fucking gross, Evie! And I highly doubt whatever photos Big Boob McGee put on that website are real! ”
She finally drops her phone to her side, and I breathe out a sigh of relief.
“Are you done, you psychopath?”