Page 98 of Hand Picked
Ugh.
“Ohhhh, yeah, no, I’m afraid I couldn’t possibly,” I argued. “I don’t have a change of clothes—”
“No one has gotten splashed yet this morning. Besides, it’s only a cup of water. Don’t be dramatic.” She turned around like my agreement was guaranteed.
“Sorry, still no. I need to watch Aiden,” I said with false regret. “Webb left him with me. So.”
“Aiden will stay with me. I’m the school principal.AndI’ll man the Pick-a-Book booth,” she said, taking away my final excuse.
I was going to insist that I still couldn’t—maybe even take my life in my hands and suggest that she and her pantsuit should take a turn under the bucket instead—when Aiden unexpectedly threw me to the wolves.
“That sounds great, Principal Oliver!” he said sweetly. He stepped toward her and took her hand, which seemed to surprise her as much as it did me. “Luke, you’re the best. I hope you have so much fun. I can’t wait to see!”
Damn it.
“Fine, then. Same rules your dad gave you earlier apply with Ms. Oliver, okay?”
“Sure.”
I sighed. At least Em had said that hardly anyone ever got splashed.
Still, I gave Aiden my cell phone and my keys to put back in my booth, just in case.
But after I’d taken my seat on the folding chair under the bucket of water—which was ginormous, and I wasnotbeing dramatic—I realized I’d underestimated just how badly the kids wanted to splash one of their teachers.
They clustered around the booth, laughing and cheering as, one after another, they tried and failed to hit the target. Above the sea of faces, I could see Aiden and Olin, both standing on a chair in the Pick-a-Book booth, getting a bird’s-eye view of the spectacle and laughing their heads off, and I found myself laughing, too.
“Jasmine,” I said as one of my students paid her dollar and collected her beanbags. “Dude. You don’t wanna splash me, do you? We’re friends.”
“No, I don’t.” Jasmine giggled. “My aunt Katey might, though.”
My eyes widened as I recognized the adult standing behind her. None other than Webb’s favorite server at Jack’s. The woman who had a huge crush on him. The woman who’d once told me she was the best softball pitcher in Hollow Swingers history.
“Katey!” I said a little nervously. “H-hey. Don’t you look nice today?”
“Thanks.” Katey grinned and tucked her blonde hair behind her ears. “I want you to know, Luke, I really like you. And I hope we can be friends.”
Then she proceeded to slam the beanbag into the target.
Oh, sweet merciful muffins.
“Ahhhh!” I screamed as the chilly bucket of water splashed down, plastering my hair to my head and soaking through my T-shirt. I jumped to my feet and squeegeed the water away from my eyes with both hands. “Oh, God. You got me! Wow. You weren’t kidding about being a great pitcher, huh? Awesome job. Well. Who’s the next splash victim?”
I pulled my soaked T-shirt away from my chest and looked around… but no one appeared.
Katey smiled again… a little evilly and held up her remaining beanbags. “It’s still you, Luke. I paid for six.”
Six?
“N-no, but. But—”
Janice, the other PTA parent working the booth, shrugged as she refilled the bucket with water from a cooler. “You and I are the only ones here. I guess we could both get wet…”
What the duck? There was no one else coming?
“No,” I groaned. “I’m already soaked. How much wetter can I get, right?”
It turned out the answer was much, much wetter.
