Page 51 of Rebel Summer

“Why do you want to know so bad?”

I lifted my hands. “It’s just conversation. Never mind. I forgot what talking to you feels like.”

“Like what?” He seemed genuinely curious.

“Like a never-ending circle that gets us both nowhere.”

“Maybe you’re just nosy.”

“I don’t need your life history. Just normal stuff. Stuff you’d tell a fr—” My eyes shot to his in panic before I went a different direction. “Stuff you’d tell people you work with.”

He pretended to think. “Alright. How about this for convo? How’s your dad handling your public misconduct?”

I refused to let him see that he had lobbed a direct hit. Instead, I reached over, grabbed the crisp, icy Coke, and took a long luxurious sip. Sighing dramatically, I put the drink back in its place. “He’s probably handling it the same way your parents handled their own son’s misdemeanors. Or were they felonies?” I put a finger to my cheek. “I can’t quite remember.”

“There goes Ivy Brooks, swooping in with her own dodge.” He said the words like a sports announcer on TV.

Before I could gather my wits and wound him with a zinger, he asked, “Can you even admit that you did something wrong?”

My mouth opened before closing again. “Yes. I messed up. I took the wrong pill. In the dark.” A stretch of silence grew between us as we sat. Unable to stand it anymore, I added, “But it was still an accident.”

He snorted. “The chickens getting loose in the school hallway was an accident too. So far, it feels like we’re pretty even.”

I shook my head. “I didn’t know it was a sleeping pill. You can’t possibly tell me that this was even close to the “accidental chickens” or putting the principal’s motorcycle on top of the school.”

“I mean…it’s not as funny.”

“Why did you do all that stuff?”

He shrugged. “Why were you on the student council? Why were you in every club the school offered?”

“Because it looked good on resumes and college applications.”

“Well, I already had a job I loved. I wasn’t planning on going to college. And I already lived on an island. Where was I going to go from there? I was already living the dream.”

I was in Mr. Gray’s class all over again, sitting next to a boy so guarded in everything he did and didn’t say. From what I could tell, he worked in this shop every day of his life. He had friends, but they were always coming to him. Even his parents came to him.

He was a puzzle of heat and ice. And I was one of those kids who used to do puzzles to the sound of an educational TV show in the background.

He motioned to my feet. “You dropped your napkin.”

Confused, I looked down, realizing a second too late what his plans were, but he had already reached over me and grabbed the Coke. He took a long swig before placing the drink down on his other side, away from me.

“I’ll get it back,” I said, picking up my hamburger again.

“Looking forward to it.”

A strange thrill rose in me at his words, though I didn’t allow myself to linger there. Instead, I stuffed my face with another bite of meat and cheese. We ate in silence for a while, picking at our dwindling pack of fries.

Then, in a moment of perfect delight, a song I’d been waiting to hear for days finally made the cut.

The bold intro to the song “You Give Love a Bad Name” by Bon Jovi blasted through the speakers.

Dax froze. “What the?—“

He grabbed his phone on the counter, ready to turn it off, when I tugged at his arm.

“No, please! I love this song. Can we just listen to it once?”

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