“This wouldn’t be the first publicity hit Sion has suffered,” Rich said. “We’ve survived before, and we can do it again. Besides, I don’t want that asshole to think he can get what he wants by blackmailing you. Teach him a lesson and let the story run.”
Cade looked surprised when we all were looking at him. “Oh, my turn. The moment that assclown changed his name to Max Frost, he basically invited every human being on the planet to hate him. And guess what, Mr. Frost? Invitation accepted. Let him run the story. So, can we go look at watermelons now? I’ve been waiting all day for this.”
“Yeah!” Bear shouted.
Nick and I lagged behind while everyone filed out to head for the river, where the main event was taking place. He put a hand on my shoulder and gave a little squeeze. “Did that help you make a decision?”
“Mostly,” I said. “Now that I know you and your brothers are okay with your end of the fallout, I just need to decide if I can handle my own end.”
“You mean what everyone around here will think?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I clung to my image for so long that letting Max’s story destroy it feels . . . I don’t know. I guess that’s the problem. I don’t know how it’ll feel to lose that part of me, and I don’t think I will until it happens.”
“I think life is full of doors. Some are labeled so you know exactly where they’ll take you. You can have a pretty normal, just-fine life if you only ever go through those doors. But I think the best stuff is behind the blank doors. You just feel a pull toward them, but you have no way of knowing what’ll be on the other side until you go for it.”
“Couldn’t I just stick my head in and peek around?”
“Don’t try to deconstruct my little metaphor. You know what I mean.”
I smiled. “I do. And maybe you’re right. I just need to decide if I’m ready to open that door.”
“That sounds like a decision that can wait until after the watermelon festivities,” Nick said. “Come on. Let’s get your mind off it, even if it’s just for a couple hours.”
There were two pleasant surprises at this year’s Watermelon Day. Surprise number one was a brand-new event—which was rumored to have been sponsored by and invented by none other than Cade King himself. The other surprise was that Robbie had apparently made the trip back to West Valley to attend. A small part of me was still afraid of taking the final leap and letting Max run the story, but something about seeing Robbie skulking around the crowd while glaring daggers at Nick and me was helping push me to it.
Nick wanted to go talk to him, but I had a feeling there’d be a more satisfying opportunity to let Robbie know what our decision was going to be if we bided our time.
We made our way past rows of vendors, who were selling everything from watermelon-flavored adult beverages to watermelon ice cream. There was even a place where you could get yourself fitted for a custom watermelon helmet to take part in Cade’s event. Basically, they punched a head-size hole out of a hollowed-out watermelon and then made eye holes and a mouth hole.
Roughly a quarter of the people walking around the event were wearing watermelon helmets.
We found Kira and Iris up by a roped-off gladiatorial-style ring in the center of a grassy field. There were remnants of shattered watermelons and zucchinis everywhere.
“I’m guessing Cade is planning to participate,” I said, nudging Iris. “Did we miss it already?”
“No,” she said. “Cade and Rich are actually up after these two.”
Nick squinted. “Rich agreed to this?”
“Cade got under his skin until Rich just wanted an excuse to whack him in the head with a zucchini a few dozen times,” Kira explained. “He was trying to convince Rich that dinosaurs were actually made up by museums to sell more tickets. I don’t think he actually believed it, but he argued with Rich until it came to this.” She gestured helplessly to the circle, where two people who appeared to be in their seventies were limply whacking each other in the head with zucchinis.
“What happens if the . . . fighters are too weak to crack each other’s helmet?” I asked.
“Sudden death,” Iris explained. “First one to poke the zucchini in the other person’s mouth hole wins.”
Nick snorted.
I turned to make sure the sound had actually come from him, and, sure enough, he was smiling like an amused child.
“Really?” I asked, grinning.
“Sorry. Something about the phrase mouth hole—well, that and the idea of people forcefully jamming zucchinis into each other’s mouths. Where else would this be condoned by an entire crowd?”
“You’re right,” I said. “Probably nowhere.” And, sure enough, the referee called for sudden death, and the two elderly combatants switched from overhead swings to short thrusts until one landed a direct mouth hole hit.
Cade and Rich walked out next, looking somehow intimidating even with giant watermelons thrust over their heads. I leaned on the ropes, eager to watch the match.
Cade was walking in a semicircle around Rich with an impressively sized zucchini in one hand and a makeshift watermelon shield in the other. “Dinosaurs are a lie,” he shouted.
Rich took a few deep breaths and squeezed his weapon tighter. “Come a little closer and say that.”
“Dinosaurs,” Cade said, advancing toward Rich. “Are.” He took one lunging swing at Rich when he got in range. “A lie!”
Rich easily ducked Cade’s swing and swung the zucchini at Cade’s head like it was a miniature baseball bat. With a single blow, the watermelon cracked open, and Cade was left standing there openmouthed and covered in watermelon juice.
Before Cade could even close his mouth, Rich jabbed the zucchini in his mouth, which drew a roar of approval from the crowd.
I turned to Nick and saw he was practically dying with laughter. When he noticed me looking, he casually reached out and took my hand. After what had happened last night, it shouldn’t have made butterflies explode in my stomach like it did. Either way, I was happy to lean into his shoulder.
I don’t know who, if anyone, even noticed that we were practically announcing we were together to the public, but it felt like putting my hand on that metaphorical door Nick had been talking about. All I needed to do now was give it a push and take the step.
Once the sun set and the majority of families with kids went back home, it was time for the drinking contest. Hollowed-out watermelon halves were loaded with several shots’ worth of liquor. The game was simple. Whoever drank the contents first won.
Nick and I were waiting nearby to watch when we spotted Max Frost standing with Robbie near the tables that were being set up for the event.
“I have a really childish idea,” I said, nudging Nick as we watched the two of them.
“If it involves pissing those two off, I don’t care how childish it is. I’m in.”
“Then we need to convince them to participate in the contest, because I need them to be sloppy drunk for this to have a chance.”
A few minutes later, Nick watched from a distance while I approached Robbie, who had split off from Max. I wasn’t sure how long I’d have him alone, so I knew I needed to be fast. I put on a little show of stumbling and slurring slightly once he saw me coming.