Luckily all I get is a cold, sputtering rinse at the hose with some anti-bacterial soap I found in the bathroom. I need something chilly and uncomfortable to jar me out of my current insanity.
"Hey, man. How'd you get to spend your day tailing that sweet honey in the office?" Rolo's come up to the hose to rinse off, and I'm torn between feeling sorry for the overworked ape and wanting to slam my fist into his face.
"Luck, I guess."
I shrug as the frigid water runs down my shoulders and over my arms. I bend at the waist so I can rinse my head and armpits before I hand the hose to Rolo.
"She's hot as hell. Put a good word in for me, okay?"
His grin is easy, and I have to tell myself to relax the fist I'm making.
"She's my girl."
The words sit sure and steady in the air between us, and the extent of how true they are shocks through me like a volt of electricity from a Taser.
Rolo holds his hands up, surrender-style.
"Alright, cool. Sorry, man. I thought you were still with Lala. I didn't know."
Lala. I haven't been with her for a few weeks, but I know she'll be pissy if she hears I'm with someone else. I don't need the drama. And I don't need anyone in my family finding anything out yet.
Or ever.
"It's cool, man. Look, could you just not say anything? Lala's still a little sore over our whole breakup, and I don't want to mess things up with Evan."
I know Rolo doesn't want to cross any lines with me. He was there when I fought all three Rahn brothers after they got into it with my brother, Remington. It was a bloodbath, and hardly any of that blood was mine.
"No worries, no worries, man. Lala's always had a nasty temper. She won't hear shit about it from me."
His eyes shift down to the hose in his hand, still dribbling icy water.
"I appreciate it."
I give him a nod and set out to my car so I can put on some deodorant and throw on a clean shirt. I stuff my sweaty shirt into the trunk, then pick up the garbage on the floor of my car and toss it back there too, chewing my brother out under my breath when I notice that he left a half-empty bottle of Jack in my backseat.
Sometimes, I swear to God, it feels like Remington wants me to get arrested.
The car looks good, I smell good, it's all good, and then Evan walks down the steps and toward me, and good gets so much better.
"Hey, slacker, they need you in there so they can sign you out!" she calls, shading her eyes with her hand.
I can tell she dolled up for me a little, and it feels damn amazing. Her dark hair swings down her back instead of in its high ponytail, long and straight almost to her waist, where it goes a little curly. Her lips are a deep pink from lipstick, but she doesn't need it, or any makeup really. I've never seen a girl who looks so beautiful when she's dressed plain, hardly done up. The sun is behind her, and I can take in every curve, every long, sweet line of her, and the excitement pumps through so strong, it makes my mouth go dry.
I want this. I want her. And it's been a while since I wanted anything this much.
"You wanna wait in my car?" I point to the open door.
"What about mine?" she asks, walking closer every minute, that long hair picking up and blowing a little in the breeze.
I have to ball my fists to stop from reaching out and yanking her closer, grabbing her hard, and crushing her to me.
"We'll come back and get yours later."
I wonder what will happen in all those hours between when we leave and when we head back to get her car, and the possibilities make the blood rush fast through my body.
"What if I snoop through your stuff?" She tosses her hair behind her shoulder and her eyes tease me.
"Snoop away. I got nothing to hide." I hold my arms out wide and know my smile is all cocky confidence, even if my words are the world's biggest lie.
I hate selling her on a scam. I hate starting things this way. But I'm already taking a dumb risk just going on this date with her. I have to keep myself protected.
I jog in and get my papers signed, and when I come back out, she's already leaned back all comfortable in the passenger seat, and I'm ready to be somewhere, anywhere, alone with this girl who's daring me to put my hand to the fire and feel the heat for the first time in I can't remember how long.
Evan 4
It's been weeks since a Saturday night consisted of anything other than sitting on my bed and contemplating the complete shit my life has recently dissolved into.
This Saturday night, I'm sitting in Winch's low, gunmetal Mustang, the window rolled down, my eyes squeezed tight, my lungs drawing in the smoky rich smell of backyard fires lit up in time for the sunset and the salty tang of the ocean just far enough away to hold a sense of adventure.
I don't ask where he's driving or what we're doing, because the sweet freedom is made even more delicious when it's twined with the unknown.
Winch holds the steering wheel with one hand and lays the other arm half out the window, his eyes stuck on the front windshield, his shoulders squared and tense.
"I won't be upset if this isn't really a date." I hang my head out the window and catch the reflection of my huge black sunglasses in the rearview.
"What makes you think it isn't?" He looks sideways and his smile is just about to unfurl into a laugh. At me.
"I get this feeling like you don't really
