“You know, winning was great, but I prefer winning when all of us play,” I tell him, my voice muffled against his hoodie.
I know I said I love international games, but international games with Matt and Luca are better.
God forbid a girl likes to change her mind.
“How many other excuses will you find to bring up your win?” He teases.
I look up at him. “Millions.”
“Mhh,” He nods, grinning. “That’s what I thought.”
“Guys, focus on the movie!” Matt gives us a disappointed look.
I look at Yana, who is sitting next to Matt on the other side of the sofa, and at Zara, who is next to her, and they give me a knowing look.
I shake my head and mouth no.
They nod.
Before I mouth anything else, a spoonful of ice cream flies through the air — splattering against the wall.
“Zara!” Yana yells.
“He started it!” Zara points at Matt, who is doubled over laughing.
Matt throws some back at Zara, and it gets on Yana.
“Matt!” she wipes the pink off her hair, trying and failing to stay serious.
Luca and I are no better. I flick a bit of vanilla on his hoodie and instantly regret it.
He gives me that slow, dangerous grin. “Oh, you’re dead.”
“Luca, no—”
Cold mint choc chip lands on my cheek.
I squeal, wiping it off with my sleeve, both of us laughing.
When someone gets on the TV, we all seem to simultaneously remember that we were watching a show, and Zara gets up, laughing.
“Ok, ok, we need to clean this up.”
Matt boos.
I look around. The kitchen looks like a dessert war zone.
Matt is trying to lick ice cream off his arm. Yana is mumbling about needing new friends, and Zara is still doubled over laughing and trying to wipe the ice cream off the wall.
I’m sitting on the floor trying to get up and falling back down from my laughter.
Luca is kneeling next to me, trying to clean the ripped, empty tubs, but also failing.
“What even happened?” I ask Zara.
“He tried to steal my ice cream,” she points at Matt.
“You are so childish,” Luca manages to get up and gives Matt a look.
