“I’m so freaking sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” She rubs at her eyes. “You’re sorry?” I ask with a cool voice. “Yes.” I can’t explain what possesses me to react the way I do, but I grab the side hose and spray Dahlia like we did countless times as kids. “Julian!” She holds up her hands, making the water splash everywhere. I ignore her cry as I blast her face with cold water, ruining her makeup and hair in the process. A mix of mascara, eyeliner, and blush runs down her cheeks. I drop the hose. “I accept your apology now.” My gaze flickers toward her soaked T-shirt. The black fabric
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