“Miller, why don’t you take Violet to the pool house so she can change into her bathing suit, and you can grab her a sodawhile you’re at it?” Dad turns to Skye. “You can get changed in the house and we can bring out that delicious-looking cheese tray.”
Skye beams at my dad. “That sounds great. Violet, is that okay with you?”
Violet shrugs. “Sure.”
My dad and Skye disappear inside, leaving me alone with Violet.
“Whelp, this is nice and awkward, isn’t it?”
I grin. “Yeah. Kinda. Want me to show you the pool house?”
“Might as well, since I’m pretty sure our parents are about to get their bone on.”
I glance toward the house. “Seriously?”
“Based on the way they were eyeing each other, yeah.” Her slides slap the deck. “Let’s move away from the house so we don’t hear anything that will result in us needing therapy to recover from.”
I follow her across the patio to the pool house. “You’re tiny,” I observe.
“Or maybe you’re just unusually large. How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
“How tall are you?”
“Six-two and a half.”
Violet snorts. “Like you need to add the extra half inch when you’re already over six feet. I’m barely five-four. I need every single one of those inches to count, partial or not.”
“Bet you can fit in any backseat without a problem.”
“True, but I always end up in the middle seat and that sucks the D. Especially in those really old cars with the hump on the floor.”
I rush to get in front of her when we reach the pool house so I can be polite and open the door for her. “That’s legit.”
She steps over the threshold and whistles. “You have a TV in your pool house?”
“Yeah. This is where me and my buddies hang out. There’s a bedroom through there if you want to change.” I point across the room.
“Sure. Thanks.”
I rummage around in the fridge and line up a selection of sodas on the counter while I wait. A few minutes later, she returns wearing a beach cover up and she’s piled her hair on top of her head in a huge, puffy bun.
“Want something to drink?” I motion to the counter.
“Ooooh, I haven’t had grape soda since I was a kid. I’ll take one of those.”
“Cool.” I hand her the can and take an orange soda for myself. “We can spike them.”
Violet arches a brow. “Tempting, but I’m a lightweight and awkward with the word vomit when I’m sober. Pretty sure I don’t want to add booze to the mix.”
“Fair.” I gulp down some soda and replace it with the contents of a tiny vodka bottle, hiding it under an empty bag of Doritos in the garbage before we head outside.
Violet takes a lounge chair in the shade. I strip off my shirt and take the lounger beside her. Nothing is worse than a t-shirt tan.
“You’re fuzzy as fuck.” Violet gently pats my arm hair, then snatches her hand away. “Shit. Sorry. That was weird. And awkward. You have a lot of chest hair for a teenager. I mean, it’s blond, so like, it mostly blends in, but it’s almost like an optical illusion. You have a blond aura of protection. Imagine if that was an actual superpower? Like your body fuzz was a magic repelling force field!”
I stare at her, waiting to see what else will come out of her mouth.