I maim him with a glare.
“Too much?” he asks.
“You passed that marker when you asked about her.”
“Shit, dude. You really do like her.” He rubs his palms together. “That should make this night interesting.”
“Keep your mouth shut.”
“Oh, no. I’ll let you drive this runaway train all by yourself.”
We pull into the restaurant, Arlo verbalizing his expected outcomes for the night. I’m a hairbreadth from breaking his nose as we step inside where a hostess greets us with a wide, toothy smile.
“Forget what I said about relationships,” Arlo says, stepping forward to flirt with the girl.
“Lincoln!”
I turn, catching sight of Poppy in the distance, waving at us. Paxton and Caleb push the door open behind us, talking about a video game. Poppy appears, her red hair pin-straight, smiling as she peeks behind her. “Okay, just so you guys know, your mom invited a ton of people, and Rae’s in a really weird mood. We definitely need to get her drunk tonight. Let her just have fun. I’m happy to be her DD, but you guys have to lay off on the bodyguard crap because she might actually haul off and punch one of you tonight.”
Paxton chuckles. “Arlo, I’ll give you a twenty if you can piss her off enough that she hits you.”
Poppy scowls. “Don’t.”
“I’ll be the DD. You should party with her. She’ll have more fun,” Pax offers.
Poppy flashes a grin. “Also, if you guys mention Chase tonight, I’ll punch you. Fair warning.”
“Need us to kick his ass?” Arlo asks.
“I need you to pretend it never happened. But, thanks.” She waves us forward, leading us into an area portioned off from the rest of the restaurant where tables are set up in rows with people I don’t know. I wasn’t even aware today was her birthday until yesterday when Paxton mentioned attending dinner tonight. I wonder if this was how she’d felt last night at the party, if being an outsider made each set of eyes feel like a judgment. None of them know me, and yet half will heckle me, and the other half worships me. Everyone loves a winner unless they aren’t that winner, and then they like to take to social media with snarky remarks.
A couple of girls whisper and point, but I don’t stop on them, searching for Raegan until I find her sitting beside her grandpa and Camilla. The rest of the table is empty except for Poppy, who makes her way to the seat on her other side.
“Rae Rae!” Arlo yells, drawing the attention from the few who weren’t looking at us. “Happy birthday!”
She glances up, a gentle laugh playing on her lips as she watches the four of us make our way to her table, her gaze continuing past me too quickly.
“Happy Birthday, you pain in the ass,” Pax says, reaching her first and pulling her out of her chair and into a hug. “Are you feeling old?”
“I already asked her that,” their Grandpa Cole says. “She flipped me off.”
She’s grinning as Paxton releases her. “That was because you gave me dead roses.”
“Nineteen of them,” he says proudly. “I had to buy them a couple of weeks ago, make sure they’d be nice and crispy for your birthday.”
“You’re morbid,” she says.
“Others call it thoughtful,” he says with a smile.
“I call it being a pain.” Raegan gives him a glance that spells humor and intention that leaves him chuckling before Arlo snatches her into an aggressive and brief hug. He says nothing before shoving her directly at me like we’re in the fucking third grade. Douchebag.
She stumbles into my chest with a quiet grunt, our hands gripping each other for support. “Are you high?” she asks him, righting herself.
“My bad,” Arlo says. “It’s all those extra practices. I don’t know my own strength.” He flexes his biceps.
“And humble, too.” Raegan shakes her head, finally turning to acknowledge me, her hand still gripping my forearm for support. Her perfume is light and citrusy, reminding me of spring breaks from my childhood when we’d go visit my Mom’s parents in Arizona once they became snowbirds and spent half the year in a mobile home park. They had three orange trees in their backyard that bloomed in the spring, the scent rich and sweet.
“Happy birthday,” I tell her.
Raegan smiles, her actions slow as she leans forward to hug me. In all the time I’ve known her, I can’t recall ever holding her like this, studying the way her body aligns with mine so seamlessly, even with the completely platonic gesture.
We move to greet Cole and his wife, Camilla.
“If you guys are team Poppy tonight, we’re not friends.” She moves to Caleb, who gives her an awkward one-armed hug.
“What’s team Poppy?” Cole asks.
Rae turns around. “You don’t want to know.”
“We used to spend every one of her birthdays going to the aquarium and then to pick up ice cream,” he says, his smile crooked as he watches her, his thoughts bouncing between the present and past of this date. It’s evident in the way his eyes crinkle, and his smile stretches with fondness. If an artist could capture his expression now, it would be deserving of art museums across the world because there are a million emotions so blatant and evident in this single look.
Raegan’s smile is radiant. “I’ll take you for ice cream and blow off all these people.”
Cole grins like he knows this as a fact. “You should go out with your friends. We can go get ice cream this week.”
I think of her telling me how birthdays bring change and wonder if it’s this tradition, in particular, she’d been referring to?
“Where’s Mom?” Paxton asks.
Raegan shrugs, her gaze skipping across the room. “I have no idea.”
“Dad?”
She shakes her head. “He was here, but I don’t know where he went.” There’s the whisper of an expression, one she silences by a louder, more obvious smile. “You guys can sit wherever you want. I don’t think I know that half of the room,” she says, glancing at the farthest tables from us filled with people somewhere between or near our ages. “I think I even saw some cheerleaders come, which I’m blaming you for.” She moves her gaze to Paxton. “Thanks for that.”
“I told them we were going to a party. I didn’t invite them to dinner.”
Her eyebrows lift with a silent bullshit, which has him grinning. “You’re popular, what can I say?”
“Sorry I’m late!” Mrs. Lawson says, swiping at some loose hairs, the act so similar to Raegan when she gets flustered.
“You okay?” Cole asks. “Is Cal with you?”
Mrs. Lawson nods. “I’m fine, Dad. I was just out in the parking lot on a call with several board members. He’s not with me. He said he had to work late and would meet me here.” She looks around like she’s going to find him.
“Was your call about the job?” Raegan asks.
Mrs. Lawson nods. “Yes, but we’re not talking about that right now. I’ve barely seen you today, and you somehow lied on your birth certificate in an attempt to say you’re nineteen today.” She looks at their grandpa. “She’s only ten, right?”