Page 143 of Sunday Morning

“We’ll get chewed up by mosquitoes,” I said.

“Don’t be such a baby.” She pulled on my arm. “We’re walking to the creek,” she called to our parents.

“I’m going too!” Gabby barreled down the stairs.

“You can’t. It’s just me and Sarah,” Eve said.

Gabby’s lower lip pushed out as she tipped her chin down.

“You can come,” I said, shoving my feet into my shoes.

Eve gave me an undecipherable look, so I grinned and shrugged. As we stepped outside, Gabby skipped ahead of us.

“How are we supposed to drink with her here?” Eve asked.

“Drink what? How were you going to sneak it out of the house?”

“It’s not in the house. It’s buried in a box by the creek,” Eve said.

“Well, I didn’t know.”

“We can give her a sip,” Eve said.

“No,” I said. “She’s fourteen.”

“Almost fifteen,” Eve countered. “One sip.”

“She’ll hold it over your head.” I hopped onto a rock and then jumped off.

“Just the opposite. I’ll hold it over hers.” Eve laughed manically while looping her arm with mine.

When we arrived at the creek, Gabby picked up a rock and threw it into the water. “Are you getting your bottle of alcohol?”

Eve shot me a look.

Gabby glanced over her shoulder at us. “Sometimes I follow you and your friends.”

“You’re such a twerp. Have you told Mom or Dad?”

“Duh. Of course not,” Gabby said.

Behind a fallen tree trunk, Eve dug up her box of alcohol and opened the lid, taking a big swig before passing it to me.

“Did you have sex with Isaac?” Gabby asked.

I choked on the tequila, spitting it out while Eve’s hand flew to her mouth.

“What?” Gabby didn’t crack a smile. “I’m not a baby. And Mom and Dad talked a lot about what they would do if you came home pregnant.”

“Jeez, Gabbs … you’re such a little eavesdropping creep,” Eve mumbled, taking another drink of tequila.

“What did they say they’d do?” I asked, stealing the bottle.

“They said they’d have to get rid of your desk to make room for a crib. Are you going to let me try that?” She eyed the bottle.

“No,” I said.

“Just a sip,” Eve said.