Never Getting Back Together

FOURTEEN

"Did you know there are twenty-nine swear words in The Bourne Identity? Twenty-nine. And that includes an f-word." I open my eyes wide, fluttering my lashes. I need to convince the parents of Rosedale to vote for my movie if I'm going to win, so I'm working the innocent, doe-eyed girl angle hard. I even dressed the part. Betty let me borrow her yellow, babydoll-style dress, and I kept my makeup simple. Just a swipe of mascara and a tiny bit of pink gloss.

"Didn't we vote yesterday?" Faris Reddy scratches his cheek, studying the clipboard I'm holding toward him.

Ty and I have been canvassing Winchester Market's parking lot all morning, polling everyone. The store is closed to host today's event. According to Paula's binder, the asphalt behind Winchester's is the levelest ground in Rosedale and, therefore, the best location for a rain gutter regatta.

Rows of gutters filled with water are lined up across the lot. People surround them, cheering on the toy boats. Kids use straws to blow the sails, racing to the end of the tracks. Liv and Betty wander between the groups, discreetly slipping flyers for my class into people's bags and strollers.

"You did vote already, Mr. Reddy." Ty takes the clipboard from my hand. "And you made the right decision. I heard Angelica Houston was nominated for an award called Choice-Sleazebag for Ever After. Does that sound like a family-friendly film to you?"

"The previous voting system was flawed." I snatch the clipboard back. "And that was a Teen Choice Award for her outstanding performance as the film's villain. It was an honor."

"I mean, if you think being called sleazy is an honor..." Ty lifts a brow, giving the Reddys a look that clearly says, can you believe this Jezebel?

I must have the self-discipline of Maria Sharapova because there are several insults on the tip of my tongue, and I manage not to hurl a single one of them at Ty. A breeze whips past, blowing strands of hair across my face and making them stick to my lipgloss. I swipe at them as a cheer echoes through the parking lot.

"That's not fair!" Gary hollers. "The wind totally pushed Tommy's boat across the finish line."

"We can't control the wind, Gary," Betty says. "Now, be a good sport and stop pouting over losing to an eight-year-old."

I stifle a smirk and turn my attention back to the Reddys.

"Maybe we should skip movie night this year." Amala's forehead furrows as she looks at the thick clouds blotting out the sunshine. They're getting darker and more sinister by the minute.

"That might be a good idea." Faris grabs the handles of their stroller and goes to steer it around Ty.

Crap. As much as I want my film to beat Ty's, I don't want our trash-talking to discourage people from attending the event. Paula would kill us if she found out we sabotaged it.

"No, no." I jump into Faris's path. "You can't miss movie night. It's the highlight of the festival, and Giselle's pulling out all the stops on the catering. Rumor has it she's making her famous popcorn balls."

"We'll think about it." Faris's tone is flat, like his mind is already made up.

"Please do," Ty says as the Reddys start to walk away again.

Apparently, I don't know when to quit, though. "Wait!" I yell and fish a flyer from the tote bag looped over my shoulder. I thrust it toward Amala. "If you're free tomorrow, I'm teaching a class on modifying your favorite recipes to accommodate any dietary restrictions. It'll be fuuuun." I must be possessed because I throw in an eyebrow waggle as I say the word 'fun.'

Faris wraps a protective arm around Amala's shoulders like he thinks I pose some kind of danger to her. "We'd really rather not." He frowns at me, and they brush past without another glance in my direction.