Claudia had been pissed about how they’d turned out, he remembered that. Then again, angry was sort of the factory setting when it came to her. Back in the day he’d thought she was just passionate. And she was. With a side of unreasonably jealous, overly paranoid, and melodramatic.
It was one reason he’d been so pleasantly surprised at how easily Kristin accepted Julie from the very beginning. At how understanding she always was, to the point he wondered if she could honestly be that easygoing. Even as he told them not to, his eyes skipped to the next frame over, where he and Kristin were frozen in their homecoming formalwear.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t over her—it was more like he couldn’t get rid of the notion that he’d failed her. Not just back then, when he hadn’t done a better job correcting the “not-Julie” jests they’d at least had the dignity not to make in front of Kristin, but that he’d dragged her along his pathway instead of allowing her to go her own.
The doorbell rang, jerking him from his reverie, and his mom was already up and off the loveseat she’d been sharing with Dad before Gavin could offer.
Gavin returned his attention to the wall, avoiding the prom photos in favor of the picture his mom had decided was eight-by-ten worthy. It was a shot of the beach at Crystal Lake. He and Julie were facing the water, nothing but their swimmer diapers on. They were holding hands, but in this picture, Gavin wasn’t looking at Jules. No, his focus was on the small plastic shovel in his hand. No surprise, the very same picture was hanging in the O’Neills’ entryway.
“Going down memory lane?” a familiar voice asked from behind him.
Gavin pointed his partially eaten slice of cheese at the framed photograph. “If our families truly wanted an eventual merging of the bloodlines, they should’ve thought about the level of friend-zoning in this picture before hanging it up. It’s a constant reminder of how long we’ve been friends and that we’ve literally been in diapers together.”
Julie glanced at the photo and giggled. “So true. And while they think it’s a beautiful picture of friendship, all I see is your death grip on the shovel you’d taken away from me when we were building that destroyed sandcastle in the foreground.”
Gavin hadn’t recalled that part until she’d mentioned it. “Hey, you were the one who stomped on our creation as retaliation.”
Julie giggled again. Back in high school, every teammate who’d come over and seen the picture also gave him shit about it. The only reason they hadn’t given Julie a hard time was because Gavin could be plenty threatening when he needed to be. “Okay, so now that we’re alone, time to talk about your shoul—”
“Julie? Where did Julie go?” Peggy’s voice drifted over to them from the living room. “Where’s my beautiful, single daughter?”
He and Julie shared a glance and a groan. Ten minutes in, and their parents were going to crank up their matchmaking attempts, he could feel it. They both sighed and trudged toward the living room.
Right before they stepped through the archway, Gavin snagged Julie’s arm, holding her back. Then he pointed up, where a sprig of mistletoe hung. “They’re relentless,” he said, and Julie shook her head.
“After you,” Gavin said with a sweep of his arm. “I’ll give you a few seconds’ head start before I go in, so they can’t tell us we’re standing under the mistletoe together.”
“See, this is why you’re the shot caller, big baller…” Julie’s dance moves were white-girl-wasted, even sober, and she exaggerated her already sloppy moves. “Something about an impala, and I can’t remember the rest of the wo-ords. Whoo, whoo.”
Gavin clapped to the beat, as if they were in the club, and with her a good foot ahead of him, he dared to cross the threshold as he bobbed his head to the imaginary music.
She came to a halt, the elastic of the ponytail holder one wild move from slipping off entirely. She blew her bangs out of her eyes and blinked at the dude standing next to Peggy. Another couple around their parents’ ages stood next to the preppy-looking guy, and they were all giving Julie curious, scrunched-up expressions.
A nervous laugh spilled out as she planted her arms at her sides. “Oh, uh, hi.”
“Julie, these are the Cohens. Herb, Nancy, and this here…” Peggy tucked her hand in his elbow. “Is Kory. The Cohens moved to town a few months ago, and Kory’s visiting for the holidays. And you’ll never guess where he lives full-time.”
“Transylvania!” Julie shouted, and Gavin snorted. Peggy, on the other hand, pursed her lips and widened her eyes to convey this was a serious sort of conversation. “Sorry, I’m sure you were about to tell me. Or did I ruin the surprise by guessing so accurately?”
The Kory dude smiled at her, and she seemed to take him in for the first time. Then she was smiling back, not just one but both dimples popping. Totally fine, although it caused an odd pinch in his gut. It took him a few seconds to realize that it wasn’t because their parents might finally be abandoning their attempt to force them together, but that he didn’t have much time with Julie. He didn’t want to share her over break with some rando.
If they wanted to date after Gavin headed back to Texas, fine. But for the next seven days, Julie was supposed to be his.
“Tucson, Arizona, so not far from you.” That matchmaker gleam that often accompanied Peggy’s not-so-subtle hints lit the blue eyes she and Julie shared. “Coincidence or fate? I’ll let you two decide.”
“Oh. Yeah. Cool.” Julie stepped forward and took Kory’s extended hand. “Nice to meet you. Funny that we had to travel to meet when we live in the same state. In hindsight, I should’ve guessed from your tan that you lived somewhere warm and sunny. If anyone looks like they might be from Transylvania, it’s me.”
Julie’s nose wrinkled in that way it did when she was analyzing whether or not what she’d just said was weird—spoiler alert: the answer was pretty much always yes. “Not because I bite or am a bloodsucking vampire or anything. Just because I’m the kind of pale that sun can’t touch. If you staked me in the heart, though, I’d still totally die, so let’s not do that. Oh, speaking of wooden stakes…” She glanced in the direction of the loveseat. “Rashad, I totally forgot to tell you about the dude who came into the ER with a weathered stool leg up his butt. Can you imagine getting a splinter in your sphincter? Talk about a pain in the as—”
“Anyway,” Peggy said, a note of desperation to the word. “Kory is in town with not much to do the next couple of weeks. I thought you could show him around.”
Julie’s cheeks pinkened and she rubbed the side of her neck. “Oh. Uh. Yeah. I can probably find some time in my schedule.” She said it like the British did, shed-yool instead of using the K sound, and why was she tipping an imaginary hat?