Page 24 of As You Walk On

It’s so ridiculous. Not his love for the strawberry-flavored Starburst. They’re the only redeemable ones, lemon being a close second. It’s the way he says it, with this sheepish grin and a strange confidence in his brown eyes. I want to laugh.

Luca must detect my trembling smile. “Are you done food-shaming me?” He sounds more amused than exasperated.

“Whoa! No judgment here!” I motion toward the chips in the crook of his elbow. “Those are my favorite.”

“Thanks.” He readjusts his snacks before the can falls. “Your approval is all I was waiting for.”

Okay, asshole. I can’t help beaming.

From anyone else, that’d feel like a jab to the throat. An outrightyour opinion wasn’t asked for, so mind your businessthat’d send me reeling, ashamed for daring to speak. But Luca attaches this crooked smirk to the end of his sentence like a postscript on an email.

“That’s an exceptional haul for a Saturday afternoon,” I note. “Going to a movie?”

“Party.” He eyes a bag of spicy, white cheddar cheese puffs.

“Chloe’s?”

“Strong possibility.”

“Me too.” I’m not quite sure why my voice rises to an octave that would make Sam Smith proud.

“Cool.” He hovers over a rack of M&M’s. “Warning—don’t plan an epic promposal by the pool with fireworks and the cheersquad dancing behind you. It might end tragically.”

My eyes widen. Does he know about the dare? Has Darren been running his mouth again?

“Hell no.” I shake my head, chuckling. “I’d never do something that pathe—”

The word almost slips out. Doesn’t matter. Luca’s expression shifts dramatically. His nostrils flare. The skin around his eyes tightens. I’m a half second too slow with an apology.

“That’s not what I—”

“No. I get it.” He sniffs, then reaches down. Clumsily, he grabs a pack of honey roasted peanuts. Tosses them at my feet. “Here. You need these since you clearly didn’t have the nuts to tell me I was making a mistake yesterday.”

“Wait, I meant...”

Again, my words aren’t fast enough.

Luca’s gone, ducking into the line. Never looking my way when I say, “I wish I was half as brave as you were.”

6

THE SAME POST MALONE SONGS ON REPEAT

“Let phase fourbegin!”

In the back seat, Darren crumples a Sonic wrapper, mouth half-full of bacon cheeseburger. He brandishes two pink, chewable antacid tablets.

“You’re a masochist, D,” Jay says from the passenger seat. He dumps twin mini bottles of vodka into two thirty-two-ounce SpeedEx cups three-quarters filled with lemon-lime soda.

We’ve been aimlessly driving around Prospect to kill time. I’m behind the wheel. There’s an unsaid code between TNT—I’m always the designated driver.

I haven’t touched any alcohol since the Night of Too Many Jell-O Shots.

Everyone has their “and that’s why I’m never doingthatagain”war story. Mine involves Darren’s parents’ sixteenth-wedding-anniversary celebration. Technically, we weren’tinvitedto the party. Jay and I were there to keep Darren occupied while his parents danced the night away with their adult friends. It didn’t stop us from swiping a tray of Jell-O shots from the kitchen.

Honestly, what’s more fun than puking your guts up while playingHalo? Try adding rainbow chunks to it.

My impulse control is a solid eight now.

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