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"I brought rations."
I hand Wilder a candy bar, sour gummy worms, and a bottle of water.
"No popcorn?" he pouts.
"No popcorn," I confirm. "We were out at home."
We sit silently, our elbows touching.
"You have hazel eyes," I state beside him.
"Okay."
"In face reading," I take a bite of my candy bar, "hazel eyes are some of the rarest in the world."
"You're also a fan of face reading?" he guesses.
"No, but I hear enough of Jill's TikTok to pick up on a few things."
"What do hazel eyes mean?"
"It means you're trustworthy," I reveal. "And a good friend."
"I am an excellent friend," Wilder boasts.
"What happens when Cash comes back?" I chew on the inside of my cheek. "Does our friendship end?"
"I don't know, Blondie."
"What happens if this whole bonding thing really does make us friends?" I push. "What then? Are you going to ditch me for Cash?"
Wilder sighs. "You've been a better friend to me the past few weeks than Cash was in twelve years, but I don't think Cash and I will ever not be friends. We've been through too much together."
Even though he ditched you? Even though he hasn't talked to you? Come on, Wilder. Open your eyes.
"Yeah," is all I manage to get out in response.
The lights dim as the movie trailers begin. I take another bite of chocolate and close my eyes. Cash and Wilder have been friends for most of their lives. Of course, Wilder would choose Cash over me. I can't compete with twelve years of friendship.
Still, it hurts a little. No matter how close Wilder and I get this summer, his loyalty will always be to Cash Allred.
And mine?
Mine is shifting.
Chapter 11
The Shopping Spree
Golf Course Attire 101: The more expensive the piece of fabric, the more acceptable at the country club.
That's what Dad said when I asked him, anyway. I figured he was the best person to consult on this topic since he golfed with a client or two back when he had a job. And he wasn't wrong.
"$79 for a skirt?" I whisper-yell to my bored accomplice. "I can't afford this, Wilder."
"We can't play on the golf course without the right clothes," he yawns from his stupid spot on the white, faux leather couch. "The country club has strict guidelines. And since we put it on the bucket list, we have to do it."
"This is dumb," I exhale heavily as I twist in front of the mirror, watching as the pleated white skirt fans out as I do. When my eyes shift back to Wilder, I see his teeth sinking into his lower lip and he's eyeing my backside like it's a piece of meat. "Stop checking my ass out!"
