Page 25 of Plotting Summer

“And what are you going to do for the date you plan?”

“It’s not a date.”

“Fine. Your outing.”

“I have no clue. I’m not the adventurous type. Unless the adventure consists of discovering a comfy place to read a book.”

Jane’s head turns toward me. “You’re Sunny Palmer—romance author extraordinaire. Your books are chock-full of exactly this kind of stuff.”

“Yeah, but it’s fiction.”

She rolls her eyes. “Because the ideas don’t come from that amazing brain of yours and you do absolutely no research to make sure things are accurate.”

She has a point. I’ve spent hours upon hours researching and planning all sorts of events and outings for my characters. Just because I’m not the one having the experiences doesn’t mean I lack the ability. “Okay. That does help to remember.”

Jane lifts onto her elbow again, her eyes alight with excitement. “And when you win, tell Tristan the thing you want is to have a do-over of the sunset boat ride.”

Despite that I’d had the same thought, I grab a pillow and smack her with it, causing her to roll to her other side and laugh.

“I think it’s time to make a slight addition to the BFF Code of Conduct,” I say, unable to resist joining in on Jane’s contagious laughter. “The Incident is henceforth banned from ever being mentioned.”

“You can’t change the code.” She sobers some. “Can you?”

“It’s an amendment, not a change. The core principles are set in stone.”

She doesn’t look incredibly thrilled by the idea, and I wonder if this has something to do with the rule about never falling for my brother. I’d originally put it in because, at the beginning of our friendship, I was fed up with girls pretending to be my friend so they could get closer to Walker. It had always seemed a frivolous addition. Until now.

But before I can think how to ask her, she smiles. “Let’s start brainstorming ideas for your dates.”

“Outings.”

She grins. “Right. Your outings.”

“Let’s give all of our participants another round of applause.” Tristan doesn’t look like a man averse to interacting with his fellow Sunset Harborians, not with the way his genuine, confident smile shifts across the applauding crowd. Whereas I’m tucked in a seat next to the wall, close to the back, and using the head of the man in front of me to make sure Tristan doesn’t make eye contact with me a second time. Once was enough to set my nerves on end, and his subtle wave in my direction had several people glancing over their shoulders. “On behalf of the residents and the staff at Seaside Oasis, thanks for coming out today—both those who shared their talents and those who came to support. We truly appreciate it.”

Another round of applause interrupts Tristan, and he waits for it to die down again, then he points to the back. “Be sure to grab a cookie and some lemonade on your way out, or stay and hang out for a while. Oh, and don’t forget our family swim night this next Thursday from seven to nine. It should be a lot of fun.” Tristan heads to the side of the makeshift stage and hands his microphone to a middle-aged woman I don’t recognize. She starts talking to him, and his gaze flicks in my direction, but I quickly glance down to Serenity instead of holding it.

“You did such a great job. I’ve never been able to do a back walk-over. Or the splits.”

Serenity smiles. “I was so nervous.”

“Well, you did amazing. And so did you, Jack.” I muss his hair, causing his darling, toothless smile to grow. “How did you make that marker disappear when you crinkled the paper?” I'm sincerely curious.

“A magician can’t reveal his secrets,” Jack says, folding his arms in front of his chest, clearly proud of his well-executed trick.

“Who wants a cookie?” Tala is scooting her way down the row, following Heath who has Lucas in arm and is bee-lining it to the desserts.

“I do!” Jack reaches for her outstretched hand, and the two of them head in the direction of the back tables.

Serenity doesn't follow but leans in toward me, her hand cupped by her mouth. “Jack takes the ink tube out of the middle of the marker, then there’s a bend at the bottom of the lid so it folds when you crumple the paper.”

“Oh, that’s how he did it.” Brilliant. I briefly contemplate writing a protagonist who’s a magician, but then I come to my senses. That would take way too much research and it doesn’t fit into my beach read niche. Unless he’s a street performer and does his shows at the boardwalk … No. That probably won’t work. But if he⁠—

“That was some pretty impressive tumbling.” Tristan is standing at the end of our row of chairs, his gaze on Serenity.

“Thanks.” She looks at him with all the confidence in the world, and I can’t help but envy her. “Maybe by the next talent show I’ll have my aerial. Or a back handspring.”

“That’d be awesome.” His eyes lift to mine. “Hey, Capri Sun.”