Page 18 of Rebel Summer

“I also wanted to tell you thanks for your help the other night. And for calling Beau.”

He studied me for a long moment. “You’re welcome.”

It was the humor lurking on his face that transported me back to high school biology class, watching a troubled, dark-haired boy attempt to hold back his sly smiles. Though, there was something more settled about this manly version of Dax, his body still held tight with hard edges and a touch of defiance.

Before I could say anything else, Dax motioned me toward the door. “Well, let me see you out. You probably need to get some beauty sleep for your upcoming mug shot.” The look I gave him did nothing to quell the growing smile on his face. Since I said what I had come here to say, there was no other option than to follow him out of the shop and into the lobby.

Motioning toward the garbage cans full of Lego pieces, I said, “Good thing that was just a fake car, right? Pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to afford a real version if I had totaled it.”

“You’re looking at a beloved landmark for Sunset Harbor tourism.”

I huffed out a laugh before giving him my best patronizing smile. “I’m sorry I knocked over your Legos.”

I metaphorically patted myself on the back. I’d given three apologies, not just two. Not a bad day’s work, given how terrified I was to come here.

He blinked before peering into my eyes, as though he were checking my sincerity and finding it lacking. To be fair, I hadn’t been serious. I found the Lego car to be quite dumb.

“Good luck in court, Books,” he said in a voice that sent a nervous thrill racing down my spine. He held the front door open for me. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

Biology Class

Day 3

“Everything alright over there, Ivy and Dax?” Mr. Gray asked.

I looked at Dax, who was staring at me, his too-cool-for-school persona looking a bit disheveled, before I glanced toward my teacher, wincing inside at his obvious disappointment.

“We’re good,” I said, trying to sound chipper. “Just had a scalpel malfunction.”

I turned my attention back to my desk, feeling the weight of this entire dumb class all on my shoulders.

“A scalpel malfunction,” the idiot beside me repeated in my ears. “That’s a generous interpretation.”

Suddenly, I had him. I knew I did. If we were playing poker, he had tell—a crack in his exterior. Though it felt like an angle my dad would try…desperate times and all that. I needed an A in this class, and Dax needed his butt handed to him.

I angled my body toward his. “Hey, Dax,” I whispered.

He moved closer, his arms leaning on the desk, feigning great interest in what I had to say. “Yeah?”

“Pick up that scalpel and start dissecting that frog right now, or I promise that next time I will throw up, and I know just where to aim.”

“I could just leave now.” His eyebrows raised.

“You could,” I stated, my voice low and controlled. “But then, for the rest of your life, you’d remember how dumb you were to let twelve years of school go to waste instead of just sticking it out for a few more months, putting in a little effort, and getting your freaking diploma.”

The air between us came to a sudden halt. I sat, inwardly gaping at what I’d just said to Dax Miller. I waited, with bated breath to see how he would react.

After a long moment, the sides of his mouth lifted, and he eventually moved to pick up the shiny instrument. With long fingers, stained with marks of grease, he brought the frog closer.

Dax’s brow furrowed as he paused and leaned closer, peering at something on the lifeless body.

“Gross. This one’s still juicy.”

“What? He shouldn’t be.” I cautiously leaned closer.

He waited until I had my head at just the right distance before he inserted his scalpel at just the right angle and with just the right amount of pressure to send a squirt of frog juices in a perfect line through the air and directly onto my cheek.

I sat in the courtroom with my foot twitching uncontrollably. Next to me, the foot of my dad’s attorney was not moving at all. Will Frost sat cool as a cucumber, every strand of gray hair perfectly in place, a placid smile, and his long fingers sitting atop his slightly rounded stomach. A direct contrast to my shallow breathing and torn fingernails. The whole walk to the courthouse had been surreal. It felt like I was watching somebody else’s life implode.

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