"Did not."
"Did too."
"Did not."
"Did too!"
"Did not."
"Did too!"
Frank and Veronica were only a few inches from each other, glaring and screaming even though they were close enough to talk in a whisper. Veronica's mouth was twisted into a self-important scowl, and Frank was borderline hysteric, and I was just trying to stay a safe distance away. If they were this open about fighting in public, I wondered what life must be like inside their house. They probably threw punches.
"You did, and if you deny it one more time, for fuck's sake, I will cut your boobs off," Frank said vehemently. As if the mental image of this threat wasn't terrifying enough, he was waving around a pair of scissors he had been using a minute earlier to cut open a new package of rainbow sprinkles.
I instinctively shielded my chest, but Veronica didn't even flinch. "Even if I did, it's none of your business."
"Is too!"
"Is not."
"Is too!"
"Is not."
"Please put those down," I said quietly.
Frank barely glanced in my direction, then lowered the scissors a fraction of an inch, conveniently closer to Veronica's chest. I stepped backwards, almost knocking into an unimpressed Abby.
"This is nothing," she said, smirking. "You should see what it's like when Jackson and I fight."
"Who wins?"
She smiled – not a happy smile, a scary smile – into the cup of ice cream she was eating. So far, her only feedback on the new Flavor of the Day was a satisfactory grunt, and multiple servings. I guess she liked red velvet cake, in all its forms. "Me. Every time."
"January," Frank turned to me, "please explain to my sister –"
"Stepsister," Veronica interjected.
"- yeah, yeah, stepsister, who cares, that I had dibs on that smokin' hot chick first."
"Who –"
"Maybe you would have had a shot with her if you could remember her name."
"Shut up! I know her name!"
"Yeah?" Veronica looked doubtful.
"Yeah! It's ..." He looked to me for help, but I just shrugged. "It ... starts with a ..."
"S," Veronica replied flatly.
"Sandra. Sadie. Sarah. Sweden. Sauerkraut?"
"It's Sylvia, asshole."
"Yeah! Sylvia! I have dibs!"
I looked from Veronica to Frank. "Sylvia? As in Sylvia-rum-raisin-in-a-waffle-cone? Two scoops?"
"Sylvia as in Sylvia-the-bangin-booty-bitch."
"Your alliteration disgusts me."
"You disgust me," he jabbed back at his stepsister. "You stole my girl right out from under my nose!"
"Did not."
"Did too! I get to wake up this morning to Dad telling me your date to the beach bonfire is a blonde bombshell that I totally had dibs on!"
"Frank," I piped up.
"I had dibs, dibs are sacred, Veronica."
"Frank, Sylvia is a lesbian."
YOU ARE READING
Sweeter Than Summer
Teen FictionJanuary Winter's hopes of entering one of her homemade ice cream flavors into New England's 1st Annual Contest are dashed when she realizes she has no way of getting there - until she convinces her stoic coworker, Wyatt, to teach her how to drive.