Eduardo's truck had become even more of a mess since Wednesday's practice and was now on par with a garbage can. Bottles littered the floor, burger wrappers crunched between seats, and gym socks and shorts tumbled out of his backpack. The only good thing the vehicle had going for it was the smell of McDonalds overpowering the lingering scent of stale sweat.
There were only three seats inside the truck, so I sat squished between Izzy and Eduardo while Eoghan stretched out in the cargo bed all by himself. Izzy had convinced Dan to follow behind us to the dock party in his jeep with the other half of the team.
Eoghan only hunkered down after the truck knocked against the curb on the side of the main road. I lurched forward even with my seatbelt on, but soccer-mom Izzy whipped her arm out in front of me and her brother.
We entered a dirt road near the Ridgeway Institute and travelled into the woods.
It wasn't an official road per-say. There were tire marks and gravel, sure, but there was a clear sign that said: No Entry.
We weren't the first to ignore the sign that night and wouldn't be the last. Someone had made the effort of lighting lanterns and hanging them in the branches of the trees on either side of the road. There were even signs made of cardboard and paint. The 200m sign had a stick figure upside-down on a keg-stand and the 100m sign had two obscure stick figures feeling each other up.
The team screamed from both truck and jeep at each bump in the road. They were like little kids in a bouncy house.
"Can you get the losers to shut up? I need to focus on not ramming into a tree," Izzy complained, knuckles white around the steering wheel.
"Knock it off!" Eduardo yelled.
"Sir, yes, sir!" Eoghan yelled back, saluting through the window behind our heads.
"Knuckleheads," Eduardo murmured.
"Knuckleheads that you wanted to bring," Izzy reminded him.
"That's right, because we need this. I need this," he said. "I don't know how you convinced the team to come, but thank you, Kate. It means a lot that everyone is here."
Was that scary genuineness or extreme sarcasm? I couldn't tell. "I did nothing," I said, not taking any credit.
"Kate's right. I convinced everyone to come," Izzy interjected, swerving to avoid hitting a stray branch. "We couldn't leave you two idiots alone in enemy territory. The only reason Kate's here is for her stupid hoodie and you? Kate's third cousin, huh? Do you think I'm stupid?
"You thought hamburgers were called hand-burgers until last year," he said.
"There's no ham in the hamburgers and you hold burgers in your hand. It makes sense! You know what? We're not debating this again. You're here for a girl and I'm here to figure out who she is."
"Wait, what? Girl? What girl?" Eduardo asked just as we approached the end of the road toward the tree lining.
We drove along the lake's shore toward the other cars parked near the grass behind the pier platform. From there, the view of the private school beyond the trees on the hill was clear. Anyone could have seen us gathering down at the lake with all the bright lanterns and fairy lights scattered around the area. No one was worried. Random Ridgeway students carried cases of beer without fear. Were those fireworks gathered beside the gigantic birthday cake?
Izzy parked the truck, pulled the handbrake, unbuckled her seatbelt and brought something big and black up to her face. The darkness obscured the object.
"Time to scout the area for Eduardo's mystery girl," Izzy said. "Dan, you've got the west side covered?"
"Affirmative," Dan confirmed, his voice coming out of the thing in Izzy's hand while he pulled up beside us in his jeep.
"You have walkie talkies?" Eduardo asked.
"Eoghan?" Izzy asked, ignoring her brother.
"East side covered," Eoghan said loud and clear.
"You know your assignments. Go, go, go!" Izzy yelled.
She scrambled out of the truck. Hollers echoed behind us as the team jumped out of Dan's jeep vehicle one by one.
"Are they seriously on a manhunt for Dorothy?" Eduardo asked, watching as the group ran off.
"If you wanted to keep your thing with her a secret, maybe you shouldn't have invited the entire team?" I said, patting him on the back.
He groaned, resting his forehead against the dashboard. "I wanted everyone to get along first before I said anything about her."
"I don't see that happening anytime soon."
"Me either," he mumbled, turning his head so his cheek rested against the dashboard. "At least you're getting your hoodie back."
"Maybe," I said.
"Maybe?"
"She didn't exactly agree."
Rosie hadn't responded to my last text message at all. She'd seen and promptly ignored the message two minutes after I'd sent it.
"So, you came on the off chance she brought the hoodie and is willing to give it back to you?"
"I may have subtly threatened to ruin her birthday party if she didn't bring it."
"It's a really good thing I won't be captain anymore because everyone is crazy," he said, yanking the keys out of the ignition and climbing out of his truck.
I followed him and said, "You love it."
The first hour dragged.
Dorothy Connelly called out orders through a megaphone. The few Ridgeway kids that were already at the lake busied themselves setting up the place for the party. They set up tables full of beer, unfurled beach chairs, dumped kegs around the place, sprinkled glitter everywhere and hung obnoxious unicorn birthday banners wherever possible.
Izzy and the rest of the Dragons had vanished and stayed gone since they'd jumped out of the truck. Either they were in the tree line waiting for Eduardo's secret hookup to approach him or they were off doing stupid crap in the woods. At least they had walkie-talkies in case one idiot wandered deeper into the trees alone.
Eduardo and me hung out alone waiting for party to kick off. We took turns skipping rocks off the edge of the docks while dodging the balloons swaying from the four wooden posts around us. He was better than me even with his non-dominant arm.
The second hour was awkward and full of fruity pebble beer.
Eduardo ditched me when the party got into full swing and walked off into the woods alone, leaving me by myself with three empty beer cans. I was supposed to tell Dorothy to join him when she slowed down on barking orders. Rosie was here somewhere too or would be here soon. It was only a matter of time before she made an appearance.
I looked over my shoulder to scan the perimeter for the hoodie-stealing-Connelly.
A group of people ran toward the shoreline and splashed into the lake. They threw ping-pong balls at each other and hooted as one ball bonked off a guy's forehead: that forehead belonging to the one and only Carter Baker.
He left his shirt and jeans on the grass and walked waist deep into the water two yards in front of me. He pushed one end of an inflatable raft, all the while avoiding all eye contact with me. He clearly wanted me to see him, even though he acted like I didn't exist.
The Ridgeway Institute and the trees in between had their image stamped onto the mirror-silver lake. It was a much better view than my ex-boyfriend trying to get a rise out of me. That's what he had to be doing, right? He could've set up the beer pong raft anywhere else.
The shrieks and splashing grew louder and louder. An uncomfortable heat swarmed my chest. All because my ex-boyfriend was right there setting up red plastic cups on the raft.
He knew what he was doing. He had to have known.
Was the hoodie worth waiting for? I could always grab it at the rematch.
"Kate?"
The sudden voice made my body jerk. The quick movement forced a stone out of my palm and into the water. It sank and disappeared quicker than Izzy had.
Two sets of footsteps came from behind me.
One belonged to Dorothy, who walked with a skip in her step along the outskirts of the water and near the ramp. She wore a pale blue bathing suit accompanied by a white and loose cardigan. Rosie hung behind her, wearing a sweater that was dark blue, bordering on navy with a big white, embellished collar paired with a skirt.
Dorothy dragged her reluctant sister over to me, who clutched my hoodie to her stomach, looking like she'd rather be anywhere else but here.
I turned my back and struggled to keep my composure. My ex waded through the water to the front and my rival came up behind me to probably push me in the back toward my ex. No place was safe. The previous calm lake had ripples from my nervous foot swirling around.
"You're not pining for that mop-head who helped break my sister's heart, are you?" Dorothy said as a greeting, waiting at the steps leading up to the ramp.
"Eduardo's gone streaking in the woods," I lied, turning and facing them.
"I can't believe he went through with it! And without me! Unforgivable!" Dorothy hollered, scurrying away after her shocking statement. But I focused on the footsteps padding across the deck to me.
Rosie gripped my shoulder, squeezing on the skin exposed above my neckline, and said, "You're not actually pining after him, are you?"
"Once a cheater, always a cheater," I said.
The words slipped out before my brain could think.
We so weren't going to talk about that. I only came here for one thing and it had nothing to do with our exes.
She bent down, using my shoulder as leverage, settled in beside me, and tucked her knees beneath her chin. Instead of facing the lake and watching the chaos, she faced me with big brown eyes full of something; something that wasn't irritation or anger or smugness at my misfortune. No. This was different. It made me too aware of the fluttering in my chest and the roughness of the ramp beneath my dancing fingertips.
"I guess the cheater haters club is still together," she said.
"Please, that's not a thing, we're not making that a thing, like, ever," I said, earning a disbelieving stare. "I'm not pining, not that it's any of your business."
She tossed the hoodie in my direction. "Here's his hoodie back, the one you wanted so bad that you came all the way out here in the middle of nowhere to crash a party no one invited you to."
"It belongs to my dad, actually," I revealed, running my finger over the paint covered sleeve. "You don't look exactly thrilled to be here."
"What gave that away?" she asked, index finger pulling her collar away from her neck.
"The fact that you're still talking to me. Misery loves company."
"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you," she claimed.
"Why doesn't that surprise me? Everything is my fault when it comes to you," I said, unable to hold back a laugh at the downward turn of her mouth, her pout more prominent than usual.
"It's true! I was free to do nothing tonight after weeks of convincing Dorothy I was happy to be sitting and watching a rerun of well . . . It doesn't matter what it was," she said, clearing her throat. It had to be something embarrassing. "And then you happened."
"You mean the fact you thought I was your ex's side piece."
"Plus my sprained finger, the whole slushie thing, and you stealing my chocolate milk. My sister saw your obsessive texts on Wednesday and now it's her mission to throw the biggest party ever."
"You could've said no to her," I pointed out.
"You don't know my sister," she said.
"She can't be that bad."
"I said 'no' when she asked for my permission to get revenge on Hazel for me."
"Why would you say no to that?" I demanded.
"That's not the point."
"It should be," I mumbled, but motioned for her to continue.
"Dotty got the worst granny panties she could find, stitched Hazel's name onto them, smeared it with chocolate, dark chocolate, sprinkled them with rotten egg and then hung them up in the changing room for everyone to see after practice."
"I feel like that's a poor example of the point you're trying to make. I wouldn't say no to Dan wanting to do that to Carter. In fact," I said, getting out my phone and thumbing out orders to him, "I wouldn't say no to that at all."
He replied with a bunch of poop emojis.
Fitting, sure, but not a confirmation.
"My point is, she always gets her way," she finished.
"All I'm hearing is, you're here for me," I said, standing up and wrapping the hoodie around my waist and reveling in her pinched expression. "Unfortunately for you, I got what I came for. Bye Connelly."
I took two steps away before someone called me back; it wasn't by the girl I'd left behind.
"Kate!" Carter yelled, shifting his way through the water until he planted his fingers on the edge of the ramp. He wetted his lips and asked, "Can we go for a chat?"
"What is this? Love Island? Fuck no. We've got nothing to talk about," I said and then noted Hazel wading her way through the water toward us in a red one piece suit.
"Did you ask them?" Hazel asked, stopping by Carter, and rested her cheek on his shoulder.
"Ask what?" I said when it looked like Rosie wouldn't say anything.
Rosie shifted backward and away from the conversation. Which was hard to do when she was hiding her face behind her knees and trying her best to be invisible at the same time. It's like she genuinely believed none of us could see her.
"Us versus you two," Hazel said, waving toward the beer pong raft. "Since you seem to be all buddy-buddy now."
"No thanks," I deadpanned, not waiting for her to elaborate further, and walked off.
"I wonder what it is you two talk about?" Hazel yelled after me, making my steps falter; the implication was clear. "It's not like you have anything in common except . . . that's right. Us."
I couldn't help it. The comment stopped me in my tracks. Carter and Hazel shared a knowing glance as I looked over my shoulder at them. Whatever. Who cared what they thought? I didn't owe him or her anything.
I stormed toward the truck and failed to notice that someone had followed me until they gripped my wrist.
"Slow down, Kate," Rosie said.
"I got what I need. I'm going home."
"Do you even have a ride?"
My ride was probably still attempting to stalk Eduardo and Dorothy. "I'll walk."
"Ten miles?"
"I'll hitch-hike. Why do you care?"
"Because you're a girl planning on walking alone through the woods in the dark," she deadpanned, coming to a stop. When that didn't elicit a response from me, she huffed but didn't make any more move to follow. "I'll take them on by myself. You'll only slow me down, anyway."
I came to a halt and faced her. The challenging look in her eye was enough to make me forget where I was going. "Why do you want to play against them so bad? It's not like winning a stupid beer pong game is the perfect karma for them cheating on us."
"It's not about the game," she claimed.
"What is it about, then?" I asked.
She opened and closed her mouth before her lips pressed together into a slight grimace. "Forget it."
I stepped forward as she turned to leave. "You chased after me. You might as well tell me."
She tapped a finger against her lip, weighing her options. "Don't you ever want to rub it in his face that you're happy? Happier without him? That what he did had no effect on you?"
"It did have an effect on me," I admitted. What was the point of lying to her? She went through the same thing as me.
She sure as hell remained mute whenever Hazel was around or brought up in conversation, yet she had no problem trying to put me down a peg or two when the opportunity arose. It'd affected her more that she'd like to admit.
"But he doesn't have to know that," she whispered.
Our exes caught my attention over her shoulder.
Hazel sat at the edge of the dock while Carter tugged on her feet, gradually pulling her into the water. They both sunk beneath the dock and out of view. They came up, hair slick, bodies wet, pressed together, laughing, and spinning in circles. They kissed the daylights out of each other.
Rosie stood with her arms crossed around her middle. She'd curled into herself twice and had tried making herself small around Hazel; once in the town square and also at the dock. She looked small now, but she was willing to go back to face them, with or without my help.
That took guts.
We weren't friends or anything, but we had a common enemy waiting for us.
"I don't have a swimsuit," I said.
"Same," she said, before spinning around, confident that I would follow.
Which I did.
Annoyingly.
"One game. Consider it your birthday present," I agreed.
"Have you ever played beer pong before?" she asked as we approached the dock again.
"I've played drinking games. Flip cups, straight face, thumper . . ." I listed off the top of my head. "Never beer pong, though."
"What are you? A frat boy?"
"My point is, they're all in the same wheel-house. It'll be fine," I said and then asked, "You don't go out much, do you?"
"It's hard not to with a sister like Dotty, but I don't drink that much," she admitted.
"You're not much of a drinker, or you don't drink?"
"Does it matter?"
"It's not like we're competing in drinking games to defend our honor or anything," I said, only to be ignored. This would not end well. "I don't think I've ever regretted anything this quickly and this much before."
"How hard can it be?"
"You've jinxed yourself."
"It's going to be fine," she repeated. "Hazel is a drowsy drunk."
"And you've never been drunk."
"And you watch Love Island!" she tossed back.
That was a low blow. It was a guilty pleasure. I answered her anyway. "What can I say? I love love, but I hate the idea of losing to a pair of cheaters."
They'd already seen us approaching. It was too late to back out now, even if we wanted to.
The third hour?
Well, that remained to be seen.