We kiss again, less hungry, more even. I feel around the roof with my hand, finally touching the smooth surface of my notebook.
“Okay, so,” I say, snuggling into his chest, “What did you get for number three?”
5
Finn
“Where do you need this lumber?” I ask, leaning out the window of my dad’s truck. I’m idling in Ezra’s driveway. Coach Chandler is such a fan of the traditions of homecoming, including mandatory participating in float building, that he gave us an hour off practice to help out. I have no doubt we’ll pay for his generosity in the weight room tomorrow, but I no complaints. Since my family owns a truck, I got sent to the hardware store to pick up a donation of supplies.
“Over by the trailer,” Ezra says. It’s funny that he’s the one hosting this year. Extra-curricular activities haven’t been his priority recently. Other than freshman year, I think the last time I saw him at float-building he was there to not-so-discreetly hook up with some of his buyers.
I park the car and get out. Ezra’s got the tailgate open and has started to unload before I make it to the back of the truck.
“Any idea on how to build one of these things?” he asks.
“A little,” I reply, grabbing a stack of two by fours. This is probably why Coach was okay with us taking time off. It’s still grueling work. “They’ll send an alumni by who will act as a mentor. They should come tonight and a few more times.”
It doesn’t take long to unload the lumber. There are a few boxes of other supplies; hardware, rolls of chicken wire, cans of spray paint and jugs of glue.
“We’re going to make a float out of this.”
“And a shit-ton of tissue paper,” I say, nodding to the boxes already delivered by the SGA.
“What the hell did my dad get me into,” he mutters.
I laugh. “It’ll be fun, and this is our last year. We need to win.”
The last year we won was freshman year, which ironically was the last time everyone in our group had been on good terms. It was before Rose and Juliette pulled the prank on Kenley. Before Rose and I started dating. Ozzy and I were still hanging out all the time, and Ezra was set to be the star of the Thistle Cove football team.
It’s weird how things have come full circle, except for one missing piece—the piece that seemed to keep all of us apart.
“I saw your dad getting on your case today,” I say. “Everything okay?”
Ezra rubs the back of his neck and grimaces. “Yeah, he’s just riding me hard about playoffs.”
“The old guys are really focused on it, aren’t they? I saw Mr. Waller downtown when I was picking up the lumber. I kind of hate seeing him, you know?” Ezra nods in understanding. Talking to your dead ex’s dad sucks, especially when you may be part of the reason why she jumped over the side of a bridge. “All he wanted to talk about was the next two games and how important they are—like we haven’t already been told a dozen times.”
He laughs. “For real. My dad has started having these little motivational meetings at breakfast. He got our housekeeper to load me up on some kind of maximum impact nutritional diet.”
I grab the tailgate and slam it shut. “You know what I’m not looking forward to?”
“Getting your ass handed to you in the weight room tomorrow?”
I roll my eyes. “No, the homecoming spectacle that Juliette’s planning for halftime. It’s going to turn into some kind of Rose Waller tribute. I just know she’s going to drag me into it, and that’s going to mess with Kenley’s head.”
He frowns. “What are you talking about?”
“Even gone, Rose has some kind of hold on KK. Just last night, I had to reassure her that I’m not comparing them.”
His hands grip the top of the tailgate. “I hate that because…”
“There’s nothing to compare, and if you do, Kenley wins out every damn time.”
“Yep.” A few cars pull into his driveway. It’s six—time for kids to start arriving. He pushes off the back of the truck. “It’s going to take more than a few weeks for Kenley to shed those insecurities, but if there’s one thing we can do, it’s help her through the process.”
“How do we do that? I already talked to her, I’m just not sure how well it worked.”
“Let me think on it,” he says, walking away, “but the best thing we can do is assure her that there’s only one queen in our lives, and despite what everyone is going to pretend the next two weeks, it’s not Rose Waller.”