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“When’s your birthday?”
“May,” I shot back, raising my eyebrows. “When’s yours?”
“June,” he replied, throwing his hands in the air as he fell back in the grass. “Fine, you’re older. Barely.”
“Barely still counts,” I said primly.
Rumi smiled at me again, and for some reason, this time it made my belly swoop like I was on a roller coaster.
“Rum,” another boy called, stomping toward us in the grass. “What the heck?”
“Found someone cooler to hang with,” Rumi joked. “This is Nova.”
“How’s it goin’? I remember you. You’re Samson’s granddaughter, right?” the older boy said, jerking his chin up. “I’m Michael.”
“You can call him Micky,” Rumi said, rolling his eyes.
“Hey,” I muttered. I rememberedhim. When we were little, he’d shot me in the face with a Nerf gun and I’d had a welt on my cheek for an entire day.
“I’m the idiot’s brother,” Micky said, glancing over his shoulder. “That your brother?”
I looked over to where Bird was lying on his back in the grass, shooting water into the air so that it would fall back down on him.
“That’s Bird.”
“Firebird,” Rumi corrected.
Micky’s eyebrows pulled together as he looked between us. “Your parents must be into cars.”
Rumi snorted. “Could be worse,” he said, elbowing me in the side like we were sharing an inside joke. “They coulda named him Trans Am.”
Micky chuckled and looked between me and Rumi. “You gonna come back?”
“Nah,” Rumi said, leaning back on his elbows again. “I’m gonna hang with Nova for a while.”
“Suit yourself.” Micky turned slightly and pulled a water pistol from the back of his shorts, shooting Rumi with a stream of water before either of us had a chance to duck. “I win.”
“You fuckin’ cheated,” Rumi yelled as Micky jogged back across the yard, flipping him off over his shoulder. “Asshole!”
I glanced nervously over my own shoulder, watching for any adults that could hear him swearing. When I looked back, he’d pulled off his shirt.
I’d seen plenty of boys without their shirts. It was summer. It was hot. They walked around town and the river and playgrounds topless all the time. My cheeks reddened anyway.
“Won’t you get in trouble if someone hears you?” I asked, averting my eyes.
“Probably,” he grumbled. His lips tipped up at the corners. “But who the fuck cares?”
My belly did that swooping thing again.
“Rumi, you out here corruptin’ my granddaughter?” Pop called out jokingly as he and Nana came out of the building. He was carrying a mesh bag of laundry over his shoulder that he tossed in the back seat of the car on his way over.
“No, sir,” Rumi called back, straightening. “Just keepin’ her company.”
Mortification slid through my veins like acid as Rumi got to his feet.
“I swear,” Nana said, reaching out to give his ponytail a tug. “You’re even more tan than the last time I saw you. Spend some time inside, for goodness’ sake.”
“No way,” Rumi said, smiling at her. “I’m soakin’ up the sun for as long as I can.”
