Page 87 of Don't Go Faking My Heart

*GIF of a woman throwing her coffee at someone*

*GIF of woman cackling wickedly*

This wouldn't bug you if you didn't like him. HAHAHAHA

I confirm nothing.

Wait till I tell the Janes.

I can throw coffee at four of you just as easily as one. #Snitchesgetstitches

When did he leave?

Maybe twenty minutes ago. Have fun with your Hotcakes. *Winking smoochy face emoji*

I look at the note again. He's not at Duke's, so that must mean he's taking a "plunge."

Hot tub, here I come.

Five minutes later, I'm walking barefoot outside in the muggy morning air. The rain has stopped, but dark clouds still fill the sky. Huge overgrown trees dominate Rusty's backyard, and crickets and birds serenade me on my walk, emboldening me with every step.

When Greg first told Mom and me about how he and his boys always kept extra swimsuits in the car, I was so torn. I thought it was cool, but I also worried Frank would make me feel like a misfit for it. But I wanted at least one of my father figures to love me, so I risked it. I started carrying it with me in my bag, my backpack, my car, everywhere. And I'll tell you: it comes in handy.

Like right now.

I spot Rusty in a hot tub that almost looks like an oversized bathtub. He has his arms perched on the side of the tub and is looking up at the trees. It's already warm enough out, but I shiver in anticipation. I quietly take off the T-shirt of his I'm wearing over my retro pin-up style two piece swimsuit. Rusty's eyes are closed, and he looks so content, I wonder if he's fallen asleep.

I take the two steps up to the tub when Rusty's eyes fly open. "Ash? How did you get your swimsuit?"

"I told you last night that I always keep a swimsuit in my bag. Remember?"

"I didn’t realize you were serious, but I should have." He gives me a half-smile coupled with a careful look. "Do you know what you're doing?"

He asks this with such sincerity that I answer more openly than I had planned. "It's time for me to take the plunge.”

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

I bite my lip, my toes hovering over the water. "I’m sure."

Rusty sits up, and where his body has been immersed, his skin is a different color. Yikes. How hot is this water? I'm already sweating from the humidity. Maybe this isn't the right place for a symbolic gesture. But Rusty's looking at me quizzically now, not quite eager but definitely curious.

I put my foot in.

It burns so hot, it almost feels cold. I hiss and put the rest of my leg in, and the sensation overpowers me, making me convulse. My body folds in on itself and I rock forward. Rusty scrambles to get up and catch me, but I'm already going down …

And as more and more of me crashes into the water, I realize why the sensation feels like ice.

IT'S AN ICE BATH.

I fall onto Rusty, and he manages to save me from smashing my face on the other side of the tub, but we both go down in the water. My legs, torso, and my face all immerse. Rusty pulls me up, but he has no warmth to offer me because HE'S A FLIPPING ICEBERG.

The near freezing water steals my breath, and I'm gasping so fast, I can barely get oxygen in. I'm up to my neck, and it feels like a thousand icicles stabbing me. I'm getting stabsicled.

I can't think. I can't breathe. The frigid water hurts.

And Pookie's next to us on the steps, frantically barking. When she can't take being left out for another moment, she jumps into the water and is filled with the same instant regret I have.

Rusty keeps holding me up with one hand while he grabs a whimpering Pookie with the other and nudges her back to the edge. She climbs out and starts running around the yard, yelping and rubbing her huge, goofy ears on the grass.

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