Page 24 of The Surprise

I reach for her phone. “Here, that’s not a good photo. Let me delete it for you.”

Beth gasps, ripping her phone away from me. “No. I would hate you forever if you took it away.”

Hate me forever?“I think that’s a little melodramatic.”

“It’s my Normal Rockwell.”

“NormanRockwell?”

“Yes.” She shakes her head up and down, but after a few bobs, she stops on her own this time. “You can’t have it. It’s shiny for me.”

Shiny for her.

I think drunk Beth is adorable, but she’s not the clearest. “Okay. I won’t delete it, but here.” I snatch the phone before she can object and take a quick selfie, my fingers throwing up the peace sign.

“You took a picture?” she asks. “That’s so good. Now I have my Normal Rockwellandthe hottest guy who ever asked me out.”

“Why would you tell me no?” I ask. “If I’m the hottest guy?”

She slumps forward then and drops her chin on her palm. “Because I can’t marry the shiny prince. I have to find a villain’s kid or something.”

“A villain’s. . .what?”

“My dad’s making your mom sell the ranch so she can go back home.”

What on earth is she talking about? Drunk Beth is adorable, but she makes no sense at all. “Okay,” I say, my voice high and squeaky. “I’m cutting you off, villain-spawn.”

“You should.” She sighs slowly. “You should cut me off, and then you should kick me to the curb, and then you should—”

“Beth.” I grab her shoulders and turn her toward me. “You are really drunk. I’m going to drive you home, and then—”

“No way,” she says. “You can’t drive me home. My dad will see you, and the villain always tries to kill the prince, only you don’t have your sword. So he might win.”

“My sword?” I chuckle. “You’re right. I left that at home. My mom doesn’t like me driving with it.”

“You need to have your sword, or the dragon can eat you.”

“Is your dad a dragon?”

“Well, no, but if he were in a cartoon, maybe.”

I wish I was recording this. There’s no way she’s going to believe any of it tomorrow. “Here, hand me your phone again.”

“Okay.”

“I’m texting you a message.”

“From my phone?” She frowns. “That makes no sense.”

“Watch.” I open up a text to herself. It’s an open string, and I can’t help seeing what else she’s texted herself.

PICKLES

PECANS

PURPLE GRAPES

PIMENTOS

---