Chapter Thirty-Five
Cal
“What’s Up?”—4 Non Blondes
I discarded my backpack on the ground, rushing toward the swings. I grabbed the frosty chains and planted one foot over the rubber seat, hoisting myself up, finding my balance, then started rocking my body, creating momentum. “Now all that’s missing is a stolen bottle of your dad’s Tito’s!” I howled into the night, a cloud of condensation rolling through my lips.
Row sighed like a wary parent, producing a bottle of vodka from his messenger bag and raising it between us. I wasn’t sure whether he’d planned this or if it was just another item to add to my evidence file that he was an alcoholic. First shaking hands, now this.
“Ambrose Rhett Casablancas!” I shrieked, beaming in delight. “You knew our darkest secret?”
“That was a secret?”
