“I wouldn’t accept that even if the alternative was a pit full of snakes,” I replied, trying to keep my expression neutral.
“That feels dramatic.”
“That’s because Mini would dramatically kill me in the morning.”
Ethan laughed that same low, warm laugh, and I fought to keep the sound from making a permanent home in my memory. “Somehow, I can’t see Ms. Mini doing that.”
“Okay, fine. Mini would never murder me.” I bit down on my lip and tried to suppress the smile that seemed determined to betray me. “She would, however, put me on an early flight home if she smelled even a whiff of shenanigans.”
“Literally no one has ever accused me of shenanigans.” He stepped a half foot closer to me. Little red lights started flashing in my brain. We were definitely in the friends-talking zone now.
“There is a first time for everything.” I shrugged and took a casual half step backward. “I’m gonna go get us checked in before Mini sees me within fifty yards of you. Have a nice convention.”
Have a nice convention? Could I be any less cool? I turned and started wheeling our suitcases away as quickly as I could,hoping that the giant chandelier would fall from the ceiling and flatten me before Ethan had the chance to process how profoundly uncool I was. Not that I cared if he thought I was cool. Clearly.
“Nittha dropped this off for you.” BamBam held out a small bundle of cloth as soon as I stepped out of the bathroom. The sight of her already sprawled across the fluffy white comforter of the bed closest to the window with a perfect view of the pool made me smile. Before BamBam had retired and become the queen of all things mature beauty, she had worked as an elementary school administrator, makeup counter rep, and hairstylist, respectively. Years of standing all day had left her with a deep and unapologetic love of putting her feet up whenever she could. At this stage, it was a running joke in our family. If BamBam wasn’t going a mile a minute, she wasn’t going at all.
“I’m about to take a nap, but before I do, your daddy texted me to remind you to finish up that application for SISU’s business administration program, then send him the draft so he can read it over,” BamBam said as I started across the room.
At the mention of Southern Illinois State University’s business administration program, any joy I’d felt since we’d made it to our room melted away. I knew my dad meant well, but I had no interest in getting my college degree in business. And even less desire to send that essay to my dad, who would red-pencil every sentence because my word choice was “too juvenile” orsomething equally perfectionist. Then again, if I didn’t send him the essay soon, he’d only find something else about my future to obsess over.
Honestly, BamBam convincing Principal Danvers to let me out of classes three weeks into the new school year seemed like nothing compared to the backflips she had to do to get my parents to agree to this trip—and not just because she and Principal Danvers were pai gow buddies. BamBam had promised my parents that I wouldn’t miss a beat of my senior year if they let me come to TrendCon with her. In the end, she’d secured my freedom in exchange for a series of college visits, vigilance in maintaining their no-dating-until-graduation rule, forty-five minutes of SAT prep and college application work every day, and no missed homework.
“You know this is your parents wanting you to have a solid chance at getting into a good school.” Whatever expression I wore on my face, BamBam must have known that this wasn’t exactly the text I’d hoped my dad would send. That was one of the reasons I loved BamBam: Her years of spending every afternoon with my siblings and me after school meant that I didn’t need to explain how I felt to her. She just knew.
“Or, it’s my parents trying to plan my entire life for me by making me go to the college they went to in order to study exactly what they studied.” I raised an eyebrow, then flopped down on the edge of my bed. “Last week Mom literally said, and I quote, ‘Business is a practical major to have on your résumé if you decide to pledge my sorority.’ ”
“That sounds like your mother.” BamBam’s tone was crisp,her lips pressed into a thin line as she forced herself to swallow whatever less-than-nice thing she wanted to say about my mom and her college affiliations. “I’m sure she won’t be too upset if you don’t join her sorority.”
“I doubt that.” I exhaled and slouched over.
“Well, no need to think about the application right now. You’ve got all week to work on it.” BamBam held the suit back out to me and smiled, as if a trip to the pool would erase the fact that my parents were as excited about my interest in film as they were about the possibility of an alien invasion.
“Thanks, BamBam.” Fixing a smile on my face, I took the swimsuit from her and held it up. “Where is the rest of it?”
“What do you mean?” BamBam sat up a little to see the suit, then leaned back and started cackling. Of course Nittha would have the most absurd, tiny hot-pink bikini in the world.
“Is it me, or is this like really small?” If I wasn’t careful, I was going to end up with a sunburn on my butt or an endless bikini wedgie.
“You know what they say, what happens in Vegas…” BamBam managed to hold it together long enough to shrug and wiggle her eyebrows before she started laughing again.
“I know what happens here stays here. I’m more concerned about my swimsuit trying to stay here while I’m wearing it.” I eyed the strings suspiciously.
“Oh, baby, I wore those all the time back in the day. They are sturdier than they appear. Your parents may not want you dating, but you can live a little. The suit is cute, and it’ll show off what you got.” When I didn’t immediately budge, BamBamgrinned, then waved a hand at me. “Go get changed. Grandma needs you to get out of here so she can take a nap.”
I bit my bottom lip and headed toward the bathroom, the sound of BamBam’s giggles following me to the door. This trip was already full of surprises. I just hoped a wardrobe malfunction wouldn’t be the next one.
CHAPTER THREE
“Would you stop pulling atthat?” Gabby tutted, slapping my hand away from my bikini bottom. “You look cute.”
“I look like a half-naked highlighter,” I shot back, stepping out of her reach so I could adjust my swimsuit in peace.
“No one wearing a swimsuit of mine would even remotely resemble a highlighter. I have impeccable taste,” Nittha teased, setting the handbag containing Cricket down so she could spread her towel out on the chair next to Gabby’s. Through some miracle she’d managed to sneak Cricket into the pool area, so we’d picked chairs at the quieter end, away from the other people our age, hoping that the lifeguard wouldn’t immediately send Cricket, and us, back inside the second she came out of the bag.
I spread my towel out on the other side of Gabby, then set my laptop on the little table between us before busting out a bottle of sunscreen. My mother was extremely white—likeblond-eyebrows-level pale—so that meant that sunburns were a real possibility for me, even with my melanin and frequent trips to Lake Michigan over the summer.
“Can someone help with my back?” I asked, rubbing sunscreen into my arms.
