Seventeen minutes later, and I was out on the deck with everyone else, watching Leah and Maggie argue.
‘The deal was,’ Leah was saying, her voice slightly slurred, ‘that I would come as long as we could leave at some point and do something else.’
‘It’s past midnight!’ Maggie replied. ‘It’s too late to go anywhere.’
‘Which was exactly your plan. Get me here, get me drunk –’
‘You got yourself drunk,’ Adam pointed out.
‘– and get me stuck. Same as always,’ Leah finished. ‘What happened to our big, fun summer before college? The one that was supposed to be full of new experiences and great memories we’d take with us for when we were apart? It was supposed to be… to be…’
She trailed off, clearly grasping for words. I said, ‘The best of times.’
‘That’s right!’ She snapped her fingers. ‘The best of times! What happened to the best of times?’
Everyone fell completely silent, I assumed because they were all contemplating this question. Then I realized it was because Eli had appeared behind me in the open kitchen door.
‘Don’t ask me,’ he said. We were all staring at him. ‘I just came for the hot dogs.’
‘Hot dogs!’ Adam burst out excitedly. ‘We’ve got hot dogs! Tons of hot dogs! Here! Have one!’
He grabbed a bun, stuffing a dog into it, and thrust it out toward him. Eli raised his eyebrows, then took it. ‘Thanks.’
‘No problem!’ Adam said. ‘Lots more where that came from, too. Plus there’s chips, and baked beans, and –’
‘Adam,’ Wallace said, his voice low. ‘Chill out.’
‘Right,’ Adam replied just as loudly. Then, in a somewhat more subdued tone, he added, ‘We have Popsicles, too.’
Everyone looked at Eli again. It was so awkward and tense, you would have thought we were at a wake, not a cookout. Then again, maybe we kind of were.
‘So, Eli,’ Maggie said after a moment, ‘how’s it going with the shop? Come up with a name yet?’
Eli glanced at her, then down at his hot dog. ‘It’s still in the discussion phase.’
‘Personally,’ Adam said, ‘I like The Chain Gang.’
‘That makes us sound like a singing group,’ Wallace told him.
‘A bad singing group,’ Leah added.
‘It’s better than Pump Cycles.’
‘What’s wrong with Pump Cycles?’ Wallace asked. ‘That’s a great name.’
‘It sounds menstrual,’ Adam told him. Esther swatted at his arm. ‘What? It does.’
‘I think,’ Jake said, surprising everyone, as we’d assumed he was fast asleep, ‘that we need a name with edge. Something dark, kind of dangerous.’
‘Like?’ Eli said.
‘Like,’ Jake went on, eyes still closed, ‘Barbed Wire Bikes. Or Flatline Bikes.’
Adam rolled his eyes. ‘You can’t call a tourist bike shop Flatline Bikes.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because people on vacation want to think about happy, relaxing things. When they rent a bike, they don’t want to think about dying in some accident.’
I could tell, by Adam’s face as he said this – relaxed, opinionated – followed by just after – shocked, then ashamed – that he’d had absolutely no idea what was going to come out of his mouth until it was too late. And now it was.
Another silence fell. Adam’s face was flushed, and I watched Maggie and Esther exchange a desperate kind of look. Beside me, Eli just stood there, the awkwardness tangible, something solid you could feel. All I could think was that it was my fault he was there, that any and all of this was happening. But I had no idea what to do about it until I saw the pot of baked beans on the table next to me.
It was a split-second decision, the kind you hear about people making in the most dangerous or serious of situations. This was really neither, but I still was not thinking, just doing, as I reached my hand into the beans, scooping out a big gob with my fingers. Then, before I could reconsider, I turned and launched it right at Eli.
The beans hit him square in the forehead, then splattered back into his hair, a few falling to hit the deck at his feet. I could hear the inhaled breath of everyone else on the deck, indicating their absolute shock, watching this. But I kept my eyes on Eli, who blinked, then reached up, wiping some beans from the tip of his nose.
‘Oh, man,’ he said to me. ‘It’s so on.’
And just like that, he was reaching across me, lightning quick, and grabbing the pot of beans. One smooth movement – too fast to even think, much less stop him – and he’d overturned it on my head. I felt heat on my hair, something slimy trickling down into my eyes, even as I grabbed for a discarded plate nearby, launching the half-eaten hot dog back at him.
‘What the hell…’ I heard Leah say, but the rest of the sentence was lost as Eli pelted me with buns from the bag he’d grabbed off the kitchen counter. I ducked my head – still covered with beans – and ran across the deck, picking up along the way a bag of Cheetos for ammo.
‘Wait!’ Adam yelled. ‘That’s my breakfast for the week!’