cnu-At my fortieth birthday party, my sister swung a baseball bat into…

ride that.”

Emma turned from the cooler, a watermelon cube halfway to her mouth.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m not letting anyone ride it yet.”

Brooklyn frowned. “Why not?”

“It’s new. I’m still getting used to it.”

“It’s just a bike.”

That was when Vanessa lifted her sunglasses onto her head.

“Emma,” she said, with that sharp honey voice she used when pretending continue reading …