Page 6 of The Summer List

Priya shakes her head. “This house just gets wilder by the minute. I can’t believe it’s just the two of them and their cats in this mansion. Did they have kids living here at some point?”

I walk over to the fridge to pull out the pitcher of homemade lemonade Sandy told me to finish and pour us all glasses as I answer.

“I don’t know. They both had previous marriages, but it sounds like Sandy’s sons were grown up by the time they bought this place. I saw some pictures of a girl too, but Sandy didn’t say anything about her, so I guess she’s Peter’s daughter.”

I’m glad I’m busy putting the pitcher back in the fridge when I say the last part; the truth is that I didn’t just see some pictures of the girl.

I stared at them.

Hard.

For way too long.

Whoever she is, she’s stunning. There’s a graduation portrait of her in a black cap and gown next to similar photos of Sandy’s sons on the living room mantle. She’s got thick, dark brown hair, and her cheeks and nose are covered in a spray of freckles. Her eyes are a rich, deep brown, but what really kept me staring was the slight smile that barely lifts the corners of her mouth. Something about that shadow of a grin looks dangerous, like the snick of a lighter and the crackle of sparks in the dark.

“Um, hello? Earth to Naomi?”

I jump when Shal rattles her glass against the island. I realize I’ve been standing in front of the open fridge for so long it’s now beeping at me to shut the door.

“Sorry.” I set the pitcher on one of the shelves and swing the door shut. “The cold felt nice.”

“So pizza sounds good for dinner?” Priya asks. “Then movie night to wrap up the day?”

“With wiiiine,” Shal sing-songs.

Priya and I start to protest, but she cuts us off.

“You knew what you were getting into when you told us which bottles they said you could drink,” she says, referring to the stop at the wine cellar during the tour I gave them this morning. “So either I’m drinking it, or we all are, but either way, I’m having wine tonight.”

I’ve only had a glass and a half of wine, but that’s more than I’ve ever consumed in a single sitting. The initial reaction of getting all giggly was familiar to me from a few chaste, parent-approved indulgences on Christmas and New Year’s, but now my tongue feels thick in my mouth, and the whole world has gone soft and warm, like I’ve climbed inside a giant cat igloo.

A laugh bubbles out of me at the thought.

“This isn’t even a funny part,” Shal says with a snort from where she’s sprawled out on a nest of couch cushions, pillows, and blankets she’s made on the basement floor. Bijoux is nestled in beside her.

Aurora Rose is curled up into a ball on Priya’s chest over on the other side of the massive couch we’re sharing, both of them staring at the movie on the screen that takes up most of the wall across the room.

“I’m not laughing at that,” I say, lifting a hand to point at where one of the goriest scenes in Jennifer’s Body is being splattered across the screen. “I was just thinking how cool it would be to be in a giant cat igloo.”

Priya giggles and kicks her feet like a little kid. Shal tips her head back and rolls her eyes.

“You two are officially lightweights.”

“I’m not drunk. I barely had two glasses,” Priya insists, but the hiccup that slips out of her mouth just proves Shal’s point.

“Hey, I’m not judging. I’m the one who told you to live a little.”

Priya juts her bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. “How come only stuff like drinking counts as living?”

Shal shrugs. “Well, I didn’t hear you offering any other ideas.”

I glance back at the screen and realize we’re missing one of my favourite parts of the movie, which just so happens to be my favourite film of all time. I may have guilt-tripped my friends into watching Jennifer’s Body yet again when it showed up in the search suggestions, seeing as I’m their free ticket to a pool all summer.

I’m not even sure why it’s my favourite movie; most of the other films I watch again and again are Jane Austen adaptations, but there’s just something about the utter insanity of a bisexual demon cheerleader murdering her way through a small town’s teenage boy population that makes for an even more effective escape from reality than swirling petticoats and maidens running through fields.

With thoughts of university still buzzing in my brain, I could use the escape more than ever.

“You guys, we’re missing it!” I shriek, loud enough to make Bijoux’s ears twitch.

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