“Ew,” said Eliza, rejoining us.

Austin casually sauntered in behind her, dressed in his soccer pants and his favorite hooded sweatshirt. Carter gave him a nod. The three of us always hung out on Saturdays, sometimes to play video games or sometimes to roll around town to see what trouble we could get into.

“’Sup, boys?” Austin sat next to me, grabbing a muffin.

I elbowed him hello. “Hear anything from Jamal?”

“Oh yeah. He can’t get a beach permit until middle of September, so we gotta wait until then.”

“Damn,” I said. “Better late than never.” I held out my hand for a fist bump. Austin, being a bro, of course returned it within the socially acceptable two seconds.

“Jamal’s bonfire?” Carter’s plate clanged as he threw down his fork. “About that . . .”

“You’re not bailing on us, are you, O’Connor?” Austin asked as if Carter were the only O’Connor in the room.

“I can’t go back to BB. You guys know that.”

Every year, our friend Jamal Sanchez threw this huge bonfire on the nearest beach. He usually timed it with the beginning of school, but we’d still have plenty to celebrate when the time finally came. Carter and that party, however, had a mixed relationship.

With my mouth stuffed with pancake, I said, “Austin, did you hear something?”

Austin looked about the quaint, pink room, cupping his ears. “It sounds like . . . can’t be. Is that whining about a party?”

“Can’t be,” I said. “’Cause whoever it is must know we’re going to drag their sorry ass there anyway.”

Austin shook his head. “That guy must be a real idiot.”

“Probably thinks the sky is blue too.”

“It’s clearly orange.”

“More of a clementine today, in my opinion.”

“Excellent point,” said Austin.

Eliza sat back with her arms crossed, the tiniest trace of amusement on her lips. I made it my mission to make that bigger.

“That guy’s probably such an idiot, he went to the dentist to get a Bluetooth,” I said.

Austin’s chair scraped the floor as he tipped it back to match mine. “That guy’s probably so dumb, that when the judge said, ‘Order, order,’ he said, ‘Diet Coke, please.’”

“I heard he broke his finger and tried to call Dr. Pepper.”

“Oh no,” said Austin, “that wasn’t the same guy who asked his eye doctor for an iPhone, was it?”

“Yep, and then he went grocery shopping at the Apple store.”

“You’re both idiots,” Carter muttered.

Eliza coughed. “Probably still thinks Bruno Mars is a planet.”

I stood up. “That was one time.”

“One more than the rest of us.” She took a long swig of orange juice, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

“What’s the plan for today?” asked Carter, tired of us ganging up on him.

“I’m free till like midafternoon, then I have to do homework,” I said. “Some stuff from AP bio I want to read, even though our boy here is doing an awesome job with the h-w.” I gave Carter a high five.