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Rowen ruffled my curls, which I’d let grow out. He gave me a once-over, inspecting my T-shirt and board shorts, both of which cost more than I was willing to admit. “Looking fit,” Rowen added. “I take it you’re swimming more these days?”
“Yeah,” I said once we reached the third floor. “Matty and I hit the lanes most mornings. Stefon recently had a weight room built for us, so that’s how we get in our dryland exercises, though sometimes we jog on the beach.”
“Sweet,” Rowen and Brieana both murmured. Even though none of my friends were really into sports or working out, they knew how much I liked swimming. I was getting better at surfing, too.
The weight room was Stefon’s birthday present for me. I still couldn’t believe that he’d done that. Granted, I was sure Matty had something to do with it, perhaps even putting the idea in his dad’s head, but the fact that Stefon did something so thoughtful, regardless of the cost, was a clear sign he was nuts for Mom. Because I wasn’t delusional enough to think he’d commissioned it solely for my benefit. I’d grown up knowing that men made fools of themselves around my mom. This man, Stefon Vaulteneau, was no exception, and he wore that crown proudly.
“Hey, guys,” Raj said, turning every which way like he’d misplaced something. “Where’d Kinzy go?”
And…sure enough, we’d lost Kinzy on the climb to the third floor.
We peered over the railing and found her staring at the paintings one floor down.
I started laughing.
“She’s in her natural habitat,” Rowen joked.
He wasn’t lying. Kinzy was art mad and felt a kinship with old things, like paintings and books.
“No point in trying to get her attention,” I offered, “not when she’s lost in viewing artwork. She’ll either follow our voices or she’ll reanimate when she smells dinner.”
I showed my friends to their double suite. Rowen and Raj would sleep in one room while Kinzy and Brieana stayed in the other.
Everyone but Kinzy, who was still downstairs, inspected the bedrooms and each adjoining room like how I did when I first arrived: eyes wide, mouths open, minds blown. Once out on the balcony, we took in the view of the ocean before turning our attention to the commotion out on the lawn near the pool and the front of the guesthouse.
Mom was pointing to a section of the grounds where the DJ station would get set up. Mom hired a pretty famous DJ for my birthday bash. By the end of the night, it would essentially be a private EDM concert for my friends and Matty’s swim team.
While the party was mostly about my eighteenth birthday, I’d insisted on it also being about Matty’s swim team. Nationals tryouts were less than two weeks away, so this was a venue where everyone could simply chill out and have a good time without the paparazzi getting all up in our business.
With Coach Anderson’s recent indictment, there’d been a lot of focus on USC’s men’s swim team. The paparazzi smelled chum and were swarming like sharks.
Only the family and Matty’s teammates knew he’d bowed out of the upcoming competition. Filipe would fill in for Matty on the relay team, which I thought was a win-win. Filipe had been swimming and competing for as long as Matty, so I already knew the relay team would come out on top.
Matty would get his chance in the future. For now, though, as he sought treatment and let his shoulder heal, he served as the team’s mentor and junior coach while the assistant coach stepped up to lead the team after Coach Anderson’s firing.
“Is that Matty?” Brieana asked. “Who’s he with?”
I spotted Matty and Joan sneaking into the guesthouse. Matty was carrying what looked like a fairly heavy brown box. I couldn’t tell what was inside, but it wasn’t bags of ice, of that I was sure.
Joan was carrying what was clearly a longboard, covered in birthday-themed wrapping paper.
“Yes, that’s Matty,” I said. I didn’t even try to hide the dreamy smile in my voice. “Next to him is Joan, one of his best friends. She’s a surfer, a hacker, and she owns a tricked-out purple race car. It has crazy flashing lights and everything.”
“She sounds badass,” Rowen said, his gray eyes flickering with sudden interest. “Do you think she drove the race car here? Would she let me film it for my channel?”
“Dunno, man. But we can ask.” I pointed at Filipe, who was still prepping his grill station like he was a contestant on Master Chef. “He also owns a race car. They’re a couple.” I watched as my friend absorbed that information. Tall and a bit lanky, with short black hair, gray eyes, and a coy smile, Rowen would get eaten alive by Joan and Filipe, I thought. And Rowen might go for it. “I’ll be sure to introduce you.”
A few minutes later, Matty entered the suite, and I finally had an opportunity to introduce my boyfriend to my Vegas friends. I probably said the word “boyfriend” twenty times. Matty was pretty smug about that.
By my friends’ animated expressions, I could tell they all really liked Matty. Even Kinzy, when she finally figured out we all existed, came upstairs and asked Matty about the estate’s paintings.
“Do you guys want to try your hand at surfing?” Matty asked a few minutes later. We all made our way downstairs and outside into the chaos that was the early stages of a mini-Coachella on the lawn. “We have lots of boards and wetsuits.”
Everyone but Kinzy wanted to surf, because she wanted to prep her canvas. She’d already told me she was going to paint something for me for my birthday.
After changing, and as we made our way down the cliff—Joan included, who was happily telling Rowen all about her race car—I asked Matty, “Did you and Joan get enough ice for the party?”
My casual question seemed to stump him for a second.
