Page 10 of One Spicy Summer

She pulls back, eyes narrowing. “Now spill, what had that silly grin on your face before I made it obvious I was watching?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, dragging her along.

“Oh no. You’re not leaving me hanging.”

“I can and Iwill,” I say, flipping my hair dramatically. “Maybe I’ll tell you later.”

“And maybe we’ll skip the rest of school so youhaveto tell me.” She twirls me to face her.

“We can’t skip. They’ll call our parents.”

“Let them. We’re top of the class, maybe they'll cut us some slack.” She’s already leading the way, not waiting for my answer. “Let’s go.”

“AgathaKristie!”

“Don’t use my government name! Aftereverythingthis morning? You deserve a free day.”

She’s not wrong. It’s the only reason I let her tug me outside to her brand new, sleek, black, two-door Volkswagen Tiguan, an early birthday gift.

She clicks her key fob and the car purrs to life. Must be nice.

“Luxury looks good on you,” I mutter.

“Please. You could’ve had the same thing. You turned it down.”

She’s right. My parents offered me the white version, which makes zero sense because I’m not even old enough to get my license yet. I only have a driver’s permit, same as Agatha. But since this is a small town, most of the kids get a pass.

Rafe was pissed, but he got over it, same as them. I’ll get a car when the time is right.

“You’re right,” I say. “I just didn’t want them going broke over a car.”

“They weren’t. My parents were going halfsies. You know they think you’re their long-lost daughter.” She bumps her shoulder against mine. “The offer still stands. But enough about that. Get your juicy ass in the car.We ride, bitches!”

“Who’sbitches? It’s just us.”

She laughs as I slide into the passenger seat, and we peel out like we’ve got somewhere important to be.

Two Hours Later

Shopping usually makes me want to scream, but Agatha always makes it bearable. My mom ruined it for me ages ago, dragging me from store to store, trying on clothes we’d never buy, like it was some kind of Olympic event.

The worst part? The lies. "We’ll get food after this." Lies. All lies.

Maybe that’s why I have trust issues.

Bags in hand, we find a cute, little coffee shop, not Starbucks, but it’ll do. After ordering, we sit and get comfy.

“So,” Agatha says casually, “have you seen Ry naked?”

I choke on nothing.

“Shit, are you okay?” she asks, slapping my back as I wheeze.

“I’ve died and gone to Heaven.You whore.”

“How was I supposed to know you wereactuallychoking?”

“Why would youaskthat?”

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