I crack the front door open, expecting to see Ty's cocky grin. But my view is blocked by what has to be the most enormous binder the world's ever seen.
"Wow." I tilt my head to the side, studying the monstrosity. It's a foot wide and almost as thick. "I know you owe me an apology, but I didn't expect it to be quite so long."
"I'm sorry." Ty lowers the binder enough for me to see the sardonic glint in his eyes. "Who pushed who in the pool again?"
"Ooh, you were so close there. Should've quit while you were ahead."
"It's a thousand degrees out here, and this thing isn't exactly light. Are you gonna make me stand out here all day?"
The sun's at just the right angle, reflecting off the concrete of the porch. I can feel the heat radiating even from inside the doorway. Ty's probably melting. Good.
I shrug. "The pool's nice and cold. I'd be happy to push you in again."
"Hi, Ty." The hardwood floor lets out a creak as Betty comes up beside me. "What a pleasant surprise." Her eyes flick to mine like she's telepathically chastising me for being rude. "Why don't you come on in?" She reaches around me and swings the door open.
"You know what they say about inviting evil spirits into your house," I mutter.
"Thanks, Betty. I'd love to." Ty's expression is gloating. His arm brushes against mine as he follows Betty into the kitchen, and I wish I could erase my body's visceral memories of him. Goosebumps erupt on my skin despite the heat flooding through the open door. I can't help thinking about how it used to feel to be wrapped up in those arms.
I thunk my forehead against the door as I push it shut. I need a field guide for dealing with my ex-boyfriend. I want to hate him, but I also remember loving him, and the line between those two emotions is maddeningly blurry.
"Quinn, how about that water?" Betty's voice comes from the kitchen.
"Yes, please," I call and turn to follow after them.
Ty's at the counter-height table in the breakfast nook. The binder's open before him, and he's flicking through the pages.
This is fine. My ex-boyfriend is sitting in the kitchen like he still belongs here, which is fine. I'm fine. Tooooootally fine. I just need someone to pass that message along to my heart. It's doing a complicated tap routine against my sternum, attempting to channel Fred Astaire.
"So, are you penning the next great American novel or what?" Liv asks, nodding toward the binder. She's standing in front of the marble countertop, shaking a cocktail mixer. Sunshine glints off the rows of white subway tiles that line the wall behind her. Betty pulls a couple of bottles of sparkling water out of the fridge and sets them on the table. I don't miss the fact that she places mine right next to Ty's.
Betty's always liked him. She tried to convince me to go talk to him after we broke up, but I couldn't. I was too angry. And since everything that happened between us was entirely his fault, I wasn't about to go crawling back to him. I kept expecting him to turn up on our doorstep with an apology and a handful of sunflowers. I waited all summer, but he never showed.
I scoop up the bottle of water in stride and stomp to the other side of the table.
"I'm just dropping off Quinn's homework." Ty flips the binder shut and pats the cover.
I do my best imitation of Liv's eyebrow quirk. "What are you talking about?"
"This is Paula's Founders Festival binder with all the event details."
"You're joking." A lead weight settles in my gut as I examine the sheer enormity of the binder. It's going to take me forever to read through that thing. I groan and let my head thump forward against the table. At this rate, I'm going to give myself a concussion by the time Ty leaves the house.
"And you have Paula's Texas-sized binder because?" Liv plops down in the chair next to mine and sips her margarita.
"Quinn and I are running the festival while Paula's out of town." Ty smiles at me in a way I can only describe as antagonistic. I stick my tongue out at him because that is the level of maturity I've achieved this week.
"The two of you are running the festival?" Betty's eyebrows practically touch her hairline as she glances back and forth between Ty and me. "Together?"
"Paula's mom broke her hip," I explain. "She had to go stay with her and left us in charge."
"Is her mom okay?" Betty asks.
"Yeah. Paula called Giselle while I was at the school. She said her mom will be fine, but she'll have to stay with her until she's back on her feet again."
"And Paula thought leaving you two in charge was safe?" Liv asks, a spark of amusement dancing in her eyes.
"As long as no one stands too close to any open water, we should be alright," Ty says.
I roll my eyes. "Oh, get over it."
Betty doesn't even bother to hide her smile. "Have I mentioned popcorn? Liv, baby, we'll have to run to the market and stock up. Whatever we have in the pantry, it isn't going to be enough."
I make a mental note to short-sheet her bed later.
"Speaking of popcorn," Ty says, scooting the binder toward me. "The first item on our to-do list is to pick a film for the last night of the festival. We're doing a movie in the park."
"I'm aware of that. Unlike some people, I actually live here, remember? I've seen the itinerary on all the flyers around town." I start turning the—I kid you not—thousands of pages in the binder.
"Oh, that's right." The sarcasm in Ty's voice is thick. "You moved here—what was it? Six years ago now? You must know way more than someone who's lived here since they were born."
"Someone who used to live here. Past tense."
Liv slurps her cocktail. I glance over at her and Betty. They're holding their drinks, watching the two of us like this is the most fun they've had all week.
I edit my mental note. I'll be short-sheeting both of their beds later.
"So, what are the movie options anyway?" I ask.
"Please refer to Appendix A, Section 3.5 of the binder," Ty says.
"Why am I not surprised this thing has appendices?" I grumble.
"We've got exactly three hundred and forty-seven titles to choose from. My vote's for The Bourne Identity."
I scoff. "This isn't movie night with your boys. The film is for the whole town. The Bourne Identity is not family-friendly."
"It's PG-13." Ty reaches over and opens the binder to the movie section. "And it's on Paula's list." He jabs a finger at a thumbnail of the movie poster.
"Yeah, I'm gonna go with no."
Ty tosses his hands in the air. "Of course you are. You're going to veto anything I pick."
"Only if you insist on choosing dude-bro flicks."
"Uh-huh. And what would you choose then?" Ty leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest.
"Something actually good."
"Be my guest." Ty makes a sweeping gesture toward the binder.
"Fine." I pull it closer, skimming the selections. There are so many movies listed here it's overwhelming. Betty and Liv crowd around me, checking out the titles over my shoulders.
"Drag Me to Hell?" Betty points from behind me. "Sounds promising, but are you sure Paula approved all of these?"
Ty shrugs. "She said to choose something from the list."
I turn the page and find my favorite movie of all time. "Alright, done." I brush my palms against each other. "That was easy. What's next on the to-do list?"
Ty leans forward, peering at the paper. He sees the movie I'm looking at and groans, sinking back in his chair. "We're not watching Ever After. No way."
"Excuse you," Liv says, "Ever After happens to be the greatest film in cinematic history."
"The first five hundred times you've watched it, maybe. You all used to torture me with that stupid movie."
Betty gasps and covers Drew Barrymore's ear with a fingertip. "Don't listen to him, Drew. He doesn't mean it."
"With all due respect," Ty holds up his hands, "more people in Rosedale will want to watch The Bourne Identity."
"That's not even kind of true. Way more people are going to want Ever After," I say.
"You seriously think that?"
"I know that."
"Alright, that's simple enough to prove." Ty shoots me that smug smirk of his. "We'll take a poll."
"How? You want to go around and ask every person in Rosedale if they'd rather watch Ever After or," I scrunch up my nose, "The Bourne Identity?"
"Exactly," Ty says like it's no big.
"How would we even do that?"
Ty walks around the table and starts flipping pages again. It takes all my self-control not to scoot my chair away from him. "Section 7F includes a list of every resident in town. They're all going to be at the festival. We can have them write down their votes throughout the week. Whichever movie gets the most wins."
"Oh, yeah." Betty sits down. "That sounds way easier than compromising on a film you both like."
Liv snorts. "It is for them."
"What do you say?" Ty holds his hand out to me. "Do we have a deal? Or are you afraid you'll have to admit I know this town better than you do?"
"You wish, California Boy." I stand so I'm closer to Ty's eye level. "Let's do this." I take his hand and give it a firm shake. I really, really hate that I remember every single callus on his fingers.