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I’m relaxing on the pool lounger when a shadow moves in and blocks my sunshine. Hooding a hand over my eyes, I squint and find Gio lingering nearby.

“The eggs were looking at me this morning,” Gio says, sounding perturbed.

I let out a giggle and glance away, trying to keep my cool, but it doesn’t work. I snort and giggle again.

When he was in the shower, I added large sticky-backed googly eyes to the eggs. Matt helped add them to the milk, fruit, butter sticks, and flour bag. Turns out, he likes pranking Gio too. They have their own contentious relationship.

But honestly, this prank was prompted by Gio’s own little trick. When I was at dinner with Amelia the other night, he wallpapered every surface in my bathroom with his smiling face.

Do you know how hard it is to pee with Gio watching? In the middle of the night, timid-tinkler syndrome kicked in. I had to fumble downstairs to use the Gio-free powder room. When I emerged, Gio was laughing into the couch pillows.

If he wanted to really annoy me, he would officially move into my bedroom. I’m convinced he’s only biding his time to mess with my head. This way, the threat hangs over me.

“Can I go inside, or are you still doing your little social-media thing?” I twinkle my fingers, trying to get under his skin.

Ignoring my question, he asks, “Find your boyfriend yet?”

“No, but I left him love notes,” I say, knowing that will also annoy Gio. At this rate, I’ll find Adam before Gio does. Now that I have his stage name, address, and social-media info, it’s only a matter of time.

“Aww, that’s convenient for you.” Gio’s grin turns knavish.

“What’s that mean?” I lower my glasses to take in all the beautiful parts of him, while I ignore his face.

He cages me in by bracing his hands on the armrests and says, “It means we get to spend another Saturday together, just the way you like.”

23/

giovanni

Hip-Rolling Techniques

“Why are we at a Waimea festival?” Sophia turns to me with an expression of confusion.

It’s Saturday, and she’s wearing a fluttery pink dress with a hibiscus pattern. It’s so fancy, she looks like she should be having afternoon tea with royalty. And I’m one hundred percent annoyed she dressed up for a potential run-in with Adam instead of for me.

“My friend says Adam might show up,” I say, but we’re here because I need to make our Adam hunts interesting. If I can hold Sophia’s attention, she’ll be distracted, happy, and safe. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

“Let me get this straight. Adam doesn’t announce where he’s going to perform?” Sophia’s voice rises. “I don’t remember reading that on his website.”

“It’s like a DJ party, flash-dance mob thing. It’s a marketing stunt, creates a viral panic,” I say.

“That sounds insane.” She narrows her gaze, studying me.

“I agree. It’s stupid.” I hold up my palms, then use reverse psychology. “If you’re not feeling it, we can go home.”

Sophia mulls this over. She scans the open field, food vendors, live music, carnival rides, and thousands of people enjoying the sunny afternoon. I only relax when she stomps down the street, begrudgingly merging into the current of festival-goers.

I win. I rub my hands together and follow.

She wanders between the tents, picking up products and talking to vendors with a sweet smile. When a handsome vendor starts a conversation with her, I move in fast and loiter until she moves to the next booth. There, she touches straw hats and allows silky ribbons to slip between her fingers. Her attention jumps from one product to the next, only slowing when she reaches for a hairband.

“What do you think?” She holds up a pearl-studded one that matches her dress as she steps in front of a floor-length mirror to try it on.

Without thinking, I step close behind her.

I know she’s asking for my opinion, but my answer falters when I see our reflection. It’s an image I’m not prepared for. I tower behind her glowing silhouette, which sits perfectly within my shadow.

I’m the frame. She’s the masterpiece.