.

"Five minutes, or I'm leaving without you! You can walk, for all I care!" I scream up the stairs to the second floor of our family home—a sound as common as the creaky steps it carries over.

"I'm coming!" Sydney yells right back at the top of her lungs, winning this round of tonight's scream-off.

Brat.

My foot begins impatiently tapping on the tan linoleum floor of the kitchen, and I snap the purple rubber band on my wrist. The tiny tingle on my skin makes Syd's voice a little more tolerable. I hate when I'm forced to take her to a friend's house. Everything in town is within walking distance. When I was thirteen, I had to walk.

I snap the rubber band again.

"Calm down." Mom huffs as she walks by with a basket filled with laundry. The air fills with the scent of Downey and Bounce dryer sheets. "It's not like you need to be anywhere right this instant."

"She's taking forever! I'm supposed to hang out with Morgan and Cole in ten minutes!" I glance up at the clock again, seeing I'm running later than I thought—eight minutes.

"To do what?" She lifts a brow to me as she folds towels, neatly forming a pile on the countertop.

I can't exactly tell my mother that the town drunk is meeting me at the gas station in eight minutes to buy my booze for the night. Time to lie on the fly.

I shrug and cross my arms across my chest. "Studying."

I'm terrible at lying, but perhaps I can get away with this by offering some humor. It couldn't hurt. We both know there's no way in hell that I'm opening a textbook tonight. Now a novel, that type of book would be a different story.

"You know I don't believe that for a second, right?" She continues folding. "I send the report cards. I know your test scores before you do."

"Believe what you wish, dear mother. I study damn hard for those Cs."

I watch as she presses her lips together, shaking her head in an attempt not to laugh. She knows me better than that. All I ever do is read. I don't believe I've ever actually studied before, except for my driver's exam. She won't complain though, because my grades are way better than Felix's were when he was still in high school.

"Call if you need a designated driver, please. Even if you only have one drink."

I stare down at my mud-stained chucks and smile. My mom isn't stupid. She knows exactly where I am going. The town drunk, the one supplying our spirits tonight, is her brother Tim. She knows, as well as I do, dad will not be patrolling town tonight, and we can get away with a little fun while he's out on the county highways.

"Okay?" she demands her answer, her tired blue eyes lifting to mine.

"Yes, ma'am." I nod.

"Thank you."

"SYD!"

My mother jumps—startled by my second outburst—and clutches her chest with a roll of her eyes. You would think she would be accustomed to our screaming matches by now. She's only had to deal with them since my sister could speak.

"Alright! Jeez, Gabby! Calm down!" The annoyed voice of my sister comes from above me.

Sydney rushes down the stairs and grabs her purse, becoming the third and final Brooks blonde to enter the kitchen. She moves past me with haste, clearly not wanting me to see something as she ducks her head. It's hard to miss, though—I take one look at her barely hidden face and burst into a fit of laughter. Her cheeks are bright pink with lavender eye shadow and a heavy-winged eyeliner.

She has been up there watching YouTube tutorials on how to apply makeup again.

They didn't work.

"Holy fuck. What happened to your face? You look like a clown!" I cover my mouth in shock at the sight before my eyes. Why would you leave the house looking like that?

"Shut up, Gabby! You are such a snot! You don't even attempt to look like a girl!"

I glance down to my Pearl Jam tee, frayed shorts that once were jeans until I stained them with lake mud, and a pair of beat-up Converse. Looks fine to me—I don't need all that extra shit on my face.

"I already am a girl. At least I look human. Yikes."

I continue giggling at her glossy pink lips, knowing that it's only revving her up more. No one is as good as I am at getting our little Sydney to throw a tantrum. The continued huffs and puffs as she finishes getting ready prove me right.

"Gabby." My mother hushes me again with a shake of her head. She sees it too. My little sister looks like a hot mess right now.

"I almost feel embarrassed for her." I bite my lip only for the second it takes me to giggle again. "Almost."

"Stop laughing, Gabby!"

"Girls!" My mother swipes her blonde hair out of her eyes. "Attempt to get along for one car ride. Please?"

I look back to Sydney. I swear her face goes even more pink, as if it were possible. I need to play nice if I want to hang out with my friends tonight, but giving Sydney a hard time is my duty as an older sister. I'm not ready to stop quite yet.

"Maybe I shouldn't take you. I don't have a clown car, and..." I'm hit in the face by a folded towel, stopping me from my next insult. "Mom!"

"Play nice or I will tell the town officer exactly what his oldest daughter is doing tonight," she glances up at me.

I furrow my brows and throw the towel back at her as she laughs.

Touché, mother.

"Why? What is Gabby doing tonight?" Sydney asks as she puts on her heels. "Why would dad care?"

Heels? Seriously? On a thirteen-year-old? They're pink, for fuck's sake!

"Not prostituting the town corner like his youngest."

"Gabrielle!" Mom scolds, no longer playfully. Her stare is telling me I should stop while I'm ahead. If I push it anymore tonight, I will read on the porch and not drinking with friends at the old dock.

"Right, then. Off we go, sis." I grab Sydney's shirt and drag her with me to the front door.

"Love you, mom!" I call back to her without meeting her angry stare. She can really give a nasty pair of eyes when she's pissed.

>>

"About damn time!" Morgan throws her hands up and slaps them back down to the disintegrating boards of the old dock. "We are thirsty!"

She sits with her feet dangling over the lake, leaning back on her palms to keep her upright. Cole sits beside her, his legs folded like a pretzel with his chin resting on a fist. I laugh at my two friends pouting at me and grab the case of Bud Light from the trunk of my car.

"Sorry. Sydney needed to apply her face."

"Oh? She rocking some makeup, unlike the middle Brooks child?" Cole asks as he takes the beer from my hand. He shifts his feet to dangle from the old broken dock beside Morgan's.

"She's wearing enough for the both of us."

I sit beside my friends and open the box of pepperoni pizza. There's nothing as good as greasy pizza from the local bar, other than buttered popcorn, of course. I grab a slice and happily begin devouring it. I'm no lady with pizza.

"Music?" I ask with stuffed cheeks.

Cole immediately stands, setting his open can back down in his place. He runs back to his truck to give us some much-needed background noise for the night. Morgan's eyes wander to our friend and linger much longer than they should. I swear the girl is breaking into a sweat as she watches him.

"Hot damn. Look at that boy run."

I roll my eyes and continue eating my pizza. Cole is good looking; I'll give her that. He towers over us whenever he stands beside us. He only appears to look athletic if you don't know him, because he is anything but. His body is very toned, and I am convinced he works out when he isn't with us. Dark brown hair stands straight atop his head and never seems to move from its place—just as he prefers. He's hot, but I could never look at him in any way other than a friend. He's more like another brother. Plus, Morgan would murder me for even thinking he was attractive. She knew she loved him in the third grade.

"He's got on new shorts," she continues, knowing I'm attempting to ignore her. "They are hugging the package nicely."

"Gross, Morgan!" I push her shoulder as she laughs. "You're going to make me lose my appetite. I don't want to know about Cole's package." I squirm at the thought of it, knowing that now I will purposely avoid looking at Cole's shorts tonight.

Jimmy Eat World blasts through the stereo of Cole's '89 Chevy S10 as he walks back to us with a smug look on his face. He seems thrilled with his choice in music tonight, and I can't say I blame him. He knows "The Middle" is one of my favorite songs.

"Whose package would you like to see then?" her eyebrow cocks with interest.

I look at Morgan and shake my head. Always sex on this girl's mind. She's the resident pervert of our little group. She wants to talk about it constantly. You'd swear she's already had it.

"Have you seen the losers we go to school with? None of them. Well, unless I can choose a celebrity. Then it's Tom Hardy." The thought of his tattoos makes me salivate.

"Always the tattooed celeb and never someone from reality." She shakes her head at me with disproval. "What about Kane's package? When are you finally going to give into that?"

Oof, not going there.

"What are we talking about?" Cole returns to our side to crack open his beer and take a sip. He sits beside us once again. I mentally thank him for interrupting us, because now I don't have to answer her question about Kane.

"Whose package Gabby wants to suck on," Morgan shrugs. "She wants the Tom Hardy D."

"Christ, Morgan!" Cole appears completely disgusted, face cringing. He shouldn't; this is a typical Morgan conversation. "I don't need a visual."

"Want to know who Morgan would choose?" I stare at her and watch her eyes form saucers. I plant a big grin on my face, knowing she is panicking right now. I would never spill the beans that this girl would spread her legs for Cole right here and now, but I enjoy making her squirm a bit. She's my best friend. If I don't do it, who will?

"No, I'd rather not," he replies.

Morgan releases the breath she was holding as I giggle. The bright red tint to her cheeks is a pleasant contrast to her olive skin tone.

"Too bad then." I shrug and take another bite of my pizza. "I think you would have approved..."

"Gabby!" Morgan snaps and cuts off my conversation with Cole. Her eyes remain huge, telling me to stop. "What's new with you? Saw the house across the street from yours finally sold. Meet the new neighbors yet?"

I laugh at her attempt to change the subject. Someday she will finally tell him, but not today. Cole is completely clueless and carries on eating his pizza.

Boys are so dumb.

"No. I saw they moved in earlier this week, though. I haven't had the pleasure of meeting numbers 497-500 yet." I toss my crust into the lake and watch as the ducks attack it. Our old neighbors were so nice and quiet. That's rare around here, having neighbors that mind their own business and don't give in to all the town gossip. "My mom said they have a daughter who is our age. She's in our grade. Mom wants me to befriend her since she won't have much time to make friends with one semester left 'til graduation."

"Seriously?" Morgan looks up to me, brown eyes growing wide. "Do we really need to add a plus-one to our group just because your mom says so?"

"Maybe she's hot." Cole shrugs.

Morgan wastes no time hitting him upside the head. She mutters beneath her breath about him being a pig. That was such a guy thing of him to say.

"Hey!" He holds up his hands to block any further attacks from Morgan. "She could be!"

This boy is so damn clueless. Morgan is beautiful. That olive toned skin, with a body tall and thin—it baffles me it hasn't caught his interest yet. She has long, dark, wavy hair that she constantly combs between her fingers. Morgan is the type that has an effortless beauty to her. Basically, she is stunning and is literally throwing herself at Cole constantly; yet, he never takes notice and then makes comments like that. Idiot.

"I'm sure she can pick her own friends," I agree, "but if she fits in with us, well, why not?"

"Whatever." Morgan shrugs with an eye roll. "I'm still your best friend."

Morgan and I have basically claimed each other as best friends since the age of five. She doesn't need to worry. Thirteen years and no one has separated us yet. We're good.

"Well, yeah. I mean, we took baths together. Best friend status is intact," I laugh. I open a can of beer and begin taking small sips of it as Cole's eyes bug out of his head. It's taking him a bit to register what I just said. Finally, I see that gleam in his eye, telling me he likes what he just heard.

Cole smirks. "Recently?"

Typical male.

Another smack upside the head ensues from Morgan. This has basically become their way of flirting. He says a derogatory comment; she smacks him, he laughs, and it makes her giggle. It's disgustingly adorable.

My attention pulls away from my two best friends with the sound of my phone ringing. "Don't Fear the Reaper" blares from the iPhone laying on the weathered wood beneath me. I peer down to see "Incoming Call: Brat-Face - Cell" appearing across my screen.

You better not want a ride home already.

"What's up, Ronald McDonald?" I answer the call. "Scare everyone away yet?"

"Be nice or I won't tell you who I just saw." Sydney's tone at the moment is saying she's fed up with my shit tonight, and that makes me feel accomplished. It's just too fun not to poke fun at her.

"Okay, I'll bite." I roll my eyes and lie my back onto the dock. "Who did you just see?"

"Dad's patrol car entering town. I'd say you have less than five minutes until there's four of you."

Oh, shit. I sit back up in panic. I look towards the wooded area expecting to see his car poke through. I don't see or hear anything yet. I might still have a little time.

"Fuck. Thanks, Syd. I owe you." I end our call. I glance to my friends who are giving each other googly eyes. I hate to break this up, but... "We need to go. Like, now. My dad is patrolling town."

The three of us stand quickly and toss the remaining pizza into the lake. Ducks immediately begin flocking to it. I was still hungry, but I can eat at home. Preferably, while I'm not grounded.

"Who's taking the beer?" Cole looks at the practically full case of Bud Light with a frown. "We can't waste it."

"I'll take it this time. Mom knows I'm drinking tonight, anyway. Or I'll drop it off at my uncle's place."

"Tim will drink it all!" Cole panics.

He's got a point. That case won't last my uncle Tim the night. The man drinks like a fish. He practically lives at the bar.

Lights peek through the trees from down the lane, and I know in my gut that it's my dad's patrol car. No one else comes to this part of the lake; the lane is hard to see through the overgrown brush. Basically, the area is used for hidden parties and nothing more. It was abandoned years ago with no one willing to do free upkeep. The lake has plenty of other docks that aren't falling into the water piece by piece.

"Jesus, I'll take it." Morgan grabs the case of beer and runs to her car to put it in the trunk. She slams the trunk shut and leans against her car, dragging her fingers through her long hair like nothing happened. Playing it cool, that girl is.

With only seconds to spare, I watch as my dad's dark-gray Dodge Hellcat patroller drives through the small opening in the woods to our hidden dock.

"Evening." He nods through the open driver-side window. "Mom said you were studying at the lake."

"Yep, just finished." I smile big at him, holding my hands behind my back as if I'm his sweet, innocent daughter. He knows better. Especially after what happened homecoming weekend, which is a memory I avoid. Basically, consuming a beer with my friends is the extent of my rule-breaking abilities, except that weekend, but he's been watching me closer ever since.

"Gabby, am I going to find beer cans floating in that lake?" he asks as he opens the door of his car.

"No, just pizza. Maybe nothing now. Lots of ducks tonight."

"Right." He peers over the dock and looks around, finding nothing—as promised. "What were you studying?"

"Spelling. Would you like me to spell antidisestablishmentarianism? Because Cole here," I grab Cole by the shoulders, "is an excellent spelling tutor."

"I do what I can." He shrugs and beams towards my father.

"A, N, T, I..."

"Okay, enough. Who has the beer in their car? I'm taking it. Then you three can go home."

Morgan sighs and hits the trunk button on her key fob. Cole looks as though he wants to cry at the loss of yet another pack of beer. It never fails. Dad always finds out. I don't know who tattles on us, but every damn time we get beer from Tim, my dad somehow knows. I'm thinking Tim calls and warns him, and then dad gives the beer back to Tim as a 'thank you for outing my daughter again' gift. Free beer for the town drunk, while we are out the beer and the cash.

Note to self: find a new supplier.

"Thank you," He takes our hard-earned beer from the trunk. "Do you need rides home?"

"No." I sigh. "You can clearly see we each had one, not even. I had like two sips. You really have shit timing."

"Gabby," he shakes his head, smiling, attempting not to laugh because it would be considered poor parenting and even poorer policing, "go home."

"Night, daddy. Love you." I place my hands on his shoulder and lean up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek, then hurry my way back to my car.

"We will talk later," he calls out to me.

"I have no doubt!" I give him the thumbs up out my car window before starting the car.

He may have found it funny, but he's still a dad and he's still a cop.

Perfectly good beer wasted again.