Page 95 of The Surprise

“Dangerous?”

“To phones, I mean.” He tucks it in his pocket, and then he runs.

I have to chase him to get it back. But somehow, we wind up in his room. And when he kisses me again, I can’t think of anything but Ethan and Hannah.

Beautiful, uncomplicated Hannah.

Sunny, handsome, smart, kind Ethan.

He deserves someone like Hannah, and I should stop acting like I might ever be good enough for him. The best I’m ever going to deserve is someone like Jackson. Someone who steals my phone. Someone who verbally bullies me.

Someone who’s exactly as crappy as my family deserves.

18

Ethan

With the world population above seven billion, on any given day, there are somewhere around twenty million people who share the same birthday. It varies by the day of course, but it’s somewhere around that range.

It really isn’t that special.

But as mine approaches, I can’t help thinking that when I was eighteen, I hadn’t even met Beth. I did badger her into celebrating it with me later, but that was really just an excuse.

Now I’m nearly nineteen, and I’m still hung up on the same girl, but I’m no closer to being with her. It’s not Amanda Saddler level dedication to a lost cause, but it feels like I’m definitely heading down a bizarre path—far closer to the last owner of this ranch than I’d like to be.

“It’s time,” I say.

“I’ve never heard that before.” Izzy laughs.

“I mean it this time,” I say. “I don’t care what she says. We know she likes me, right?”

Izzy shrugs. “Do we? I mean, I think Hannah’s her best friend in the world, pretty much, and that girl would not ease up. If Beth really liked you, I’d have thought she’d have told her.”

“She was relentless.”

“That’s what a girl who likes you looks like.”

“Annoying?” I ask. “Badgery?”

“I don’t think that’s a word,” Izzy says.

“Neither is ‘yeet,’ but that didn’t stop Hannah from using it every time she chucked something my way.”

“She was trying to get your attention. She’s not that annoying at school.”

“I hope not,” I say. “Or I’d assume she’d get punched pretty often.”

“I thought you were going to punch her.” Izzy suppresses her laughter, though why, I’m not sure. She usually brays like a donkey when she’s amused. “When she came out in that bikini and took a photo with you—”

“I should have punched her then for sure,” I say. “But Dad was pretty adamant that I never could.” If I hadn’t heard his voice in my ear, I’d have done it. First she dumped that stupid, sticky red punch on my shirt. Then she said she’d go wash it out. When she came back out in a bikini and took a photo, like we were on some beach vacation instead of the community trash clean-up event, I wanted to crush her phone.

Because I know she’s friends with Beth.

The last thing I need is for Beth to get the wrong idea. But then Hannah showed me that photo Beth sent her. She’s apparently fine to date—just not to date me.

“Or maybe I do just need to let it go,” I say.

“Why do you like her so much?” Izzy rubs Leo’s forelock. Mom doesn’t usually let us ride him, but when I told her we wanted to go for a trail ride, she actually offered him to Izzy.

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