Page 69 of Red Flags Only

Probably not.

“Fire chicken is when we go in the backyard and light patches on fire, then whoever puts their patch out first loses.”

Lashes flutter over moss-green irises as she takes that in. “You… purposefully… set fire to your yard… for a game?”

“It’s fun,” I assure her. “You can play with us next time.”

“Um,” she says. “No.”

I raise an eyebrow, and she adds, “Thank you.”

I shrug. Her loss. It really is fun. Invigorating.

“Do we have any plans beyond sleepover?” Lyra asks. “I wasn’t planning on staying in, and Saturdays are my grocery days so I’ve got basically nothing in the house right now for us to eat.”

“Ah!” Iexclaim, standing. “I have a list!”

Grabbing my duffel from where I dropped it by the door, I bring it to the living room and plop it on the coffee table, then dig inside. I push my clothes and toiletries out of the way so that I can grab my research notebook – a black, faux-leather-bound journal that contains all of my thoughts, questions, and findings for the Flag Day project. I sit, hooking a leg under one of Lyra’s so that I can bring her thigh over mine as I flip through to my list for tonight.

She leans into me, wedging herself against my arm so she can read with me.

Dinner - spicy nuggets or life is not worth living

Movie

Arts and Crafts Time

Braid Lyra’s Hair

Role Play an Enemies-to-Lovers Scenario

Only One Bed Time

“You’re going to braid my hair?” she asks, finger tracing our evening’s itinerary. “What is all this?”

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