He didn’tsoundvery definite, but I had my win, and I was going to take it. I had to compromise when Noah took almost every hanger in the closet and almost all the space, though, so it felt fair in the long run.
Even if he did huff and give me a look when I took the top drawer in the dresser. And even when he took up, like, all the bathroom space.
But that was what relationships were about, wasn’t it? Compromise. It wasn’t about being selfish. And we’d have to figure it out if we were going to live together over the summer in Boston, like Noah had suggested—and like I maybe wanted to.
Since we’d all skipped lunch, we made dinner early. Lee and I took charge and made tacos—although, admittedly, it was mostly Lee doing the cooking, while I chopped up vegetables and salad and laid the table outside.
We were just sitting down to dinner when Noah disappeared back into the house, before reappearing with four cups and a bottle of champagne—which the rest of us greeted with a loud chorus of cheers.
“I swiped it from Mom and Dad,” he explained, undoing the metal twist around the cork. “They had, like, a dozen. They won’t miss it.”
He readjusted his hold on the bottle to remove the cork.
Pop!
Excitement danced through me, like the bubbles in the champagne Noah was pouring into glasses for us. He set the bottle down and raised his glass in a toast.
“Here’s to the summer!”
“Our last and best summer at the beach house!” Lee concurred, and the four of us cheered and whooped and clinked our glasses together.
We sat down to dinner, sipping champagne. I wasn’tentirelysure I was really a fan of it, and Lee said he’d prefer a beer, if he was being totally honest, which I was relieved to hear.
Rachel laughed. “Well if you guys won’t drink it, I will.”
“Might want to save some for later,” Noah said.
“What? Why?”
“Well, just as a heads-up…Lee and I might have told afewpeople to stop by tonight. Kind of a…housewarming thing.”
I narrowed my eyes, looking between the two Flynn brothers, who had wide eyes and big, innocent smiles plastered on their faces. Rachel gave me an uneasy glance.
“Howfeware we talking?” I asked.
Lee sipped his champagne again, pulling a face as he swallowed it, and waved me off. “Just an intimate gathering…”
• • •
Lee and Noah’s “intimate gathering” quickly showed itself to be a full-fledged Flynn brothers party.
They’d thrown a few truly epic parties at their house the last couple of years. Noah was usually the mastermind behind it all, and even though he’d been too cool to hang out with us at school, he had always let us tag along and invite a bunch of our own friends. Their house was so big, it was the perfect place to throw parties.
But the beach house was always cozy, intimate.
Which, I guessed it was right now, too. The seven people crammed onto a single couch was pretty cozy. The butt that brushed against mine as someone scooted by was pretty intimate.
Music pumped through the house like a heartbeat. People had brought cases of beer, bottles of vodka and soda for a mixer, and sparkling cider for the designated drivers. People squashed into the lounge, the kitchen, the rumpus room. They spilled outside. A group of girls sat with their legs dangling in the pool. A couple of guys had stripped down to their boxers to jump in. I watched now as they splashed at the girls, who shrieked, giggling.
Rachel had started to stress out, so I had given her my second glass of champagne. She’d polished off the rest of the bottle by now and had moved on to a can of beer. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair a little frizzy, and she looked like she was having a great time.
Lee was in the rumpus room—I could hear him yelling over a raucous game of Hungry Hungry Hippos. Noah was in the lounge catching up with some of his old football buddies. He caught my eye, winked, and shot me a smile. My heart skipped a beat as I smiled back at him.
Despite us being at the beach house, it felt just like old times. Noah had rounded up a bunch of people from his classes, who were back home for the summer, and he and Lee had forwarded the invite to a bunch of our friends, too. I spotted Ethan Jenkins and Kaitlin from school council, and Tyrone, who’d been head of school council and graduated a year before us. Rachel’s drama club friends were here somewhere.
The doorbell rang, and I flitted from mopping up a spilled beer by the couch to the front door, wondering which idiot had flipped the latch so it locked.
Olivia and Faith, girls from my class, were on the other side of the door. They squealed and jumped to throw their arms around me—something that took me totally by surprise, considering we’d always been friendly but never, like, best friends or anything.
