Knox pops a few chips in his mouth. “Every damn year, it’s some sort of prank.”
“Did your junk get sprayed too?” she asks me.
“Yes, but it’s almost dry now, thankfully,” I say, not wanting to stand because I don’t want her to look at the chubby I’m currently trying to hide.
“That would’ve been funny to watch. I always miss the good stuff.” She smirks.
“The best part was when Grandma stopped all the commotion,” Hadleigh explains.
Right on cue, Dad walks by, and he’s dripping wet. Ivy snickers, and I shake my head as Dad shoots winks and antagonizes anyone who will give him a sliver of attention. We’ve all learned to ignore him.
“The trick is not to make eye contact,” I lean in and whisper to her.
“Got it,” she confirms, focusing on her plate while she snickers.
After eating, I catch
