“He convinced you to go boating and you nearly drowned,” Lucas said, jabbing his spatula in Manson’s direction with bitterness in his tone. Considering I was a safe distance away from him, I said, “Sounds like Lucas still has nightmares about it.” He turned his narrow-eyed glare at me, brandishing the spatula in a far more threatening way than he had at Manson. “You,” he hissed. “Better watch it.” I just gave him a wink and a grin that promised more trouble. We ate our dinner on the back deck, around a large table with a firepit in the middle. We’d brought enough food for the weekend to keep
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