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Jason eyes me. “I’ll drive.”
I pretend to consider it. “Can I bring my friend?”
“Who’s your friend?”
“Donovan.”
A sliver of something cruel slides across Jason’s blue eyes. “I don’t think he’d like the crowd.”
“By that, you mean you don’t think the crowd would like him?”
His mouth sets. “Whichever.”
I shrug. “Then it doesn’t sound like my crowd, either.”
I scoop a forkful of crème brûlée while Jason considers. “Okay,” he says finally. “He can come.”
“Cool. You can pick me up later.”
Jason’s smile returns. Calm. Controlled. Cocky. “See you then.” Then he nods toward Four and Pearl. “Enjoy the rest of your dinner.”
With that, he turns and leaves to join his own family again. They have, obviously, the best table in the house, with a perfect view of the boats swaying in the marina.
Pearl puts her lips to her wineglass. “He’s cute,” she says into her pinot noir and wiggles her eyebrows.
“If you’re into…that.” I shrug and try not to blush.
“What did he mean about his boat?” Four asks, his brow furrowed.
“Hey!” I jump in with a quick change of topic. “I was thinking—can you teach me how to fish tomorrow?”
5
Donovan
“Kiddo.”
My eyes pry themselves open. As the sleep clears, the Sundance Kid races across the screen, shouting for his partner in crime.
Our TV is a small, square box, which is propped up on the fold-out table in front of us, along with a few empty beers and scraps from dinner.
I’ve passed out in the crook of my dad’s arm. And drooled on myself.
Real baller right here.
Dad points to the window. “Your secret admirer is back.”
As if on cue, there’s a plink! against the window. A muffled voice: “Donovan!”
I jump up and wipe my mouth with the back of my arm. I fling open the door of our trailer.
She’s there, looking ethereal in a white dress and a dangerous smile.
I hang halfway out the door. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she says. Small pile of acorns in her hand. And then: “Wanna come to a party tonight?”
“Sounds gross.”
