“Shhhh.” He tilted his head as if listening for something.
Biting my lip, I glanced over my shoulder.What’s going on?I mouthed to my friends. The look on Asha’s expression echoed my confusion. She shook her head, and Boomer raised a shoulder in a half shrug.
Not knowing what else to do, I followed Alec into an unlit foyer and set down my duffel. Beyond the tiny room was a magnificententrance hall decorated with all the elegance and glamour of the 1920s. I felt like we’d stepped back in time. Ancestral portraits of gray-haired men in uniform and women wearing fashion from another era lined the walls, which were covered in an antiqued-silver damask paper. A grand staircase made of mahogany or some other type of warm wood, with carpeted red steps and hand-carved banisters, commanded the center of the hall.
Alec, who didn’t seem impressed by our surroundings the way I was, was still looking around with caution. Then a scraping sound cut through the silence as something hard slid across the floor and connected with my foot.
“What the…?” It was a neon water gun. A second Super Soaker was lying next to a laundry basket filled to the brim with water balloons.
At the sight of the plastic toys, Alec’s entire demeanor changed. He didn’t relax exactly, but the suspicion in his eyes faded, as if he knew exactly what was going on. He scooped up the water guns. He passed the bigger of the two to me and tested his own. A quick blast of water sprayed across the stone floor.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” I asked, staring down at the toy in my hands.
“Use it.” His expression was grave. “We’re going into battle.” He eased down the entrance hall.
Two apprehensive seconds ticked by.
“Double O Seven, target is in sight! Repeat, target spotted!”
The next minute unfolded like a scene out of a movie.
A familiar face jumped out from behind a suit of armor. Unlike the last time I saw JJ Morris, he was fully clothed. He had on apair of camo pants and a black tank top, with a stripe of war paint under each eye. Clutched in his hands was a plastic water gun similar to ours, only his was bigger. He blasted Alec with a spray.
Alec lunged out of the way and fired back. Without taking his eyes off JJ, he shouted to me, “I got him. You take Oliver!”
Oliver? The only person here is JJ…
But then Oliver charged down the hall in our direction. He wasn’t wearing the dorky camouflage his partner in crime was, but a bandana was tied around his head Rambo-style, and his recognizable brown waves curled up around the strip of fabric. Before I fully comprehend what I was doing, I lifted my Super Soaker and aimed it at the lead singer of the Heartbreakers.
Oliver faltered when he saw me, as if he expected Alec to be alone. But he quickly schooled his surprise and charged my way, a war cry tearing from his lips. It was surreal—a celebrity chasing me with a squirt gun—but it was happening too quickly for me to consider. I pumped the handle of the gun until enough pressure built and let it rip once he was in range. Oliver returned the favor, and when a jet of cold water hit me in the face, I shrieked and dodged the stream.
For the next two minutes we dueled across the room, dousing each other in icy showers. Oliver seemed unconcerned about drenching the carpet and walls and furnishings of his uncle’s house. I was giddy with the craziness of the current situation, my laughter melding with the chaos. JJ shouted mocking insults at Alec who, silent as ever, seemed to be evading much of the attack, but I was too focused on beating Oliver to pay full attention.
My gun, which was much smaller than his, was the first to run out of water. When I pulled the trigger and nothing came out, a slow smirk spread across Oliver’s face. He lowered his weapon to revel in victory.
“Looks like you’re out,” he said. “Tough luck.”
But before he could take aim, another war cry rang out behind me. Boomer and Asha rushed out of the foyer, the laundry basket of balloons swinging between them. Grinning, I tossed the empty toy aside and grabbed three of the water bombs. Oliver’s smirk fell. The fight didn’t last long after that. With Asha and Boomer as reinforcements, the four of us were able to back JJ and Oliver into a corner and rain balloons down on them until they were soaking.
“Okay,okay!” Oliver sputtered, waving his hands in surrender. “Enough already. You guys win.” His hair was dripping, plastered to the side of his face, and a huge puddle had gathered on the oriental rug beneath his feet.
There was only one water balloon left, and grinning to himself, Alec plucked it from the basket and lobbed it at his bandmates. It hit JJ square in the chest and exploded. JJ’s eyes flickered with irritation, but the paint running down his face rendered his expression comical.
“That didn’t go as planned,” he said, picking a chunk of broken latex off his shirt. He flicked it in Alec’s direction. “We didn’t know you were bringing”—he craned his neck to look up at Boomer—“a giant with you.”
“Or anyone else for that matter,” Oliver grumbled.
“So having an advantage is okay, provided that you’re not theones outnumbered?” Alec asked. He crossed his arms, disgruntled, but the corner of his mouth twitched, and I knew he was curbing a smile. “That’s not very fair, is it?”
“All right, Mr. Moral High Ground. We get it. JJ and I got what was coming to us.” Oliver yanked off his bandana and shook out his hair, sending a spray of droplets in every direction. “Now,” he said, after fixing his bangs, “are you going to introduce us to your friends, or are we going to continue pretending this whole situation isn’t slightly awkward?”
“Oh!” Alec turned to face us, two small patches of pink on his cheeks. He gestured at me first. “Oliver, JJ. This is—”
“No introductions needed there,” JJ cut in. He showed me a toothy grin. “Felicity from Skype.” Alec shot him a warning look, and JJ quickly added, “I was scolded rather severely for being”—he frowned and paused—“what was it Stella called me again?”
“A pervy, womanizing pig.”
“Yeah, that’s it! My apologies. I swear I didn’t mean to offend you.”
