The Summer Deal (Wildstone #5)(40)

Boys are so dumb. Why didn’t you ever tell me that?

And why do we only get one veggie for the whole camp?

Also, everyone’s got boobs but me. I know you said it would happen, but WHEN? Kinsey’s boobs arrived. Everyone’s boobs arrived.

Except mine.

Kinsey said, and let me quote, “Nice mosquito bites.”

I’m not going to put on my bathing suit. I’m not going swimming. Which, because it’s a million degrees, means I’m going to die. Good-bye, Moms, we had a good run.

Love,

Your thoroughly dead daughter

THE NEXT DAY after work, Kinsey was frustrated. She’d tried to see Brynn at school, but her sister had refused to talk to her during class and then had sneaked out at the final bell before Kinsey could catch her.

Both Max and Eli gave her a wide berth until she finally tossed up her hands. “Look, it’s not my fault she’s gone.”

“Actually, it kinda is,” Max said.

Eli didn’t say anything, just leveled her with those steel-gray eyes that never failed to reach into her soul and remind her that she wanted to be a better person than she really was.

Dammit.

She spun on her heel and left. Using the GPS to get to Brynn’s moms’ place, she parked on the street and eyed the small, modest but well-kept home. The grass was a little long, but vibrant green. The two oaks were thick and lush. Gorgeous, colorful flowers lined the walk and filled planters along the porch railing. She had no idea what kind of flowers, because she’d never been impressed by flowers before. And she’d certainly never grown any.

One of the moms—Kinsey didn’t know which one—answered her knock. She was petite and wore a long, flowy, whimsical sundress covered in bright sunflowers. “Can I help you?” she asked Kinsey with a sweet smile.

“I’m looking for Brynn. I’m Kinsey Davis. Her . . . roommate.”

Her mom looked interested in this information. “I thought she wasn’t taking the room after all.”

“There was a . . . miscommunication. We very much want her to.”

Brynn’s mom’s smile warmed. “I’m Raina. And I remember you, you know. I haven’t seen you in years and years, not since Parents’ Day at summer camp in . . . goodness, eighth grade, I think. Come in.”

“No, don’t let her in.” This was from Brynn, who was suddenly standing behind her mom.

Raina shook her head at her daughter. “Hiding from your feelings is never a healthy choice, baby. And it plugs you up, remember?”

Brynn banged her head against the doorjamb a few times.

Kinsey smiled at her sweetly. “We wouldn’t want you to get plugged up,” she said.

Brynn rolled her eyes, gently nudged her mom aside, and said, “We’ll be outside talking. Do not listen in.” She then shut the door.

Kinsey opened her mouth to say something, but Brynn held up a finger and cocked her head at the closed front door. “Mom, I can still hear you breathing,” she called out.

“Dammit,” came Raina’s voice. “It’s my allergies. There’s a lot of pollen today. I’m going to go sit in front of the humidifier.”

Again, Kinsey opened her mouth, but Brynn shook her head. “Not yet,” she whispered, then said loudly, “Let’s go to McDonald’s for a Big Mac and fries, the extra-large order with extra fat.”

Nothing from the other side of the door.

“Okay,” Brynn said with what looked like relief. “She’s really gone.” She eyed Kinsey coolly. “What are you doing here?”

Kinsey paused. “You, um, have nice toenail polish.”

Brynn looked down at her sparkly purple toes. “You came here to say that?”

“No, I came here to say you suck at fighting. But we have that deal where I have to say something nice to every not-so-nice thing.” She drew a deep breath. “You’re not supposed to go away when you get mad. You’re supposed to fight back. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that?”

“No,” Brynn said.

“Well, it’s true.”

“Okay,” Brynn said. “So let’s fight. You’re sick. Like really sick.”

Kinsey sighed. “Yes, but don’t you dare look at me with pity.”

Brynn let out a choked laugh. “Are you kidding me?”

The front door opened. It was the other mom, or so Kinsey assumed. This one was wearing a suit dress and heels that Kinsey drooled over.

“Honey,” this mom said to Brynn. “Even I don’t leave friends out on the porch.” She smiled at Kinsey. “Hi, I’m Olive.”

“She’s not a friend,” Brynn said. “This is Kinsey, from summer camp. You remember, the one I complained about every time I got to call home.”

“Ah,” Olive said, and looked Kinsey over for a long beat.

Kinsey squirmed a little bit. Embarrassed, she realized, at what a shithead kid she’d been. She gave a little wave and a grimace. “Camp was a long time ago.”

“True,” Olive said, and stepped back, gesturing for them both to come inside the house.

Brynn hesitated, but not Kinsey. She took the only “in” she was likely to get and entered the living room.

“Raina’s making tea,” Olive said. “She also has homemade cookies.”