"Ex-boyfriend's?" my mother mused with raised eyebrows. "Does Evan know you went?"
I pressed my lips together guiltily. "No. And I'm not looking forward to telling him."
"Good luck with that," she scoffed lightly with a shake of her head.
"Oh, thanks," I shot back, my stomach twisting at the thought of having to tell Evan I went to Drew's and that he drove me home. "That makes me feel better."
"Sorry," she chuckled.
"Ready?" Jonathan hollered from the hallway.
"For what?" my mother questioned in confusion, just as red and purple squirt guns thumped on my bed.
Jonathan appeared in the doorway, armed with a blue one. "For this," he smiled wickedly and released a stream of water.
I ducked toward the bed when he shot at us again. My mother yelped in laughter.
"Oh, you are so going to get it," she squealed, snatching the red gun and chasing after him down the stairs, spraying the entire way.
I grabbed the other gun and pursued them, losing sight of Jonathan as my mother ran into the kitchen for cover. I led with the gun, pointing it into the living room, but he wasn't there.
I turned and crept back toward the foyer. My mother stuck her head out and nodded toward the dark hallway that led to the basement door. Before I could react, Jonathan emerged from the shadows and grabbed me by the arm, pulling me in front of him just as my mother popped out of the kitchen, aimed to squirt.
Jonathan pressed his arm across me, taunting my mother to shoot.
"You're using me as a shield?" I accused, as he waved the gun, flashing it between my mother and me―ready to squirt whoever made a move first.
"She's not going to shoot you," he explained, steering me further out into the foyer as my mother attempted to circle around to get a clear shot.
"Sorry, honey," my mother said, aiming the gun at my head.
"Mom?" My eyes spread wide in disbelief. Then I noticed her eyes flip toward the floor, and in that second, I dropped out of Jonathan's arm and onto the floor while she squirted him. I spun around and began streaming water at him as well.
Jonathan held up his hand to protect himself while he shot back at us. None of us attempted to retreat, allowing the water to fall on us as we laughed, until there wasn't anything left in our guns.
"Time to refill," Jonathan proclaimed with his hands raised in surrender.
My mother took my gun as I sat on the stairs, wiping the water from my face, still smiling.
"Okay, we get a head start," my mother instructed a few minutes later, handing back the filled water guns. "Jonathan, you have to stay in the kitchen for twenty seconds before you can come out. Ready, Emily?"
I nodded. Jonathan eyed us suspiciously before retreating to the kitchen.
"Quick," she whispered, "up the stairs."
I scampered up the stairs with her right behind me. Ducking into the bathroom, I hid behind the door, as she lay on the floor of the hallway, ready to ambush him when he came up the stairs.
"Ready?" she asked, glancing back at me. I thought I heard a knock at the door, but I couldn't be sure from where I was.
"Wait, you can't go outside," my mother hollered when the door squeaked open. She popped up and started shooting in that direction before she was even on her feet. I stepped out of the bathroom to follow her. But she'd stopped. She stood frozen at the top of the stairs with her hand covering her mouth.
"I am so sorry," she gasped. I followed her horrified gaze to find Evan at the bottom of the stairs with water running down his forehead and over his nose, stunned and confused.
I opened my mouth in shock and then burst out laughing.
"What did you do?" Jonathan asked from beside the door. "That's not the best way to greet someone."
"Evan, I thought you were Jonathan trying to escape," my mother offered in a rush, her face bright red. I shook my head, still laughing as I went down the stairs.
Evan wiped the water from his face with the sleeve of his jacket. "It's okay. It's only water." He eyed me and with his amused grin. "You're laughing? You think this is funny, right?" I recognized that look.
Before I could turn back up the stairs to get away, he had his arms wrapped around my waist and I was off the ground.
"Oh no, Evan. Don't," I begged. I had no idea what he planned to do, but I knew I was in for it. Jonathan appeared entertained, but my mother scrambled after us.
"What are you going to do?" she asked, watching as he wrestled me into the kitchen.
"Mom, help," my pleas were broken with laughter. I tried to squirm away when one of his hands released me to turn on the sink. "Evan!"
He squeezed the sprayer on the faucet and doused me over the head as I broke free. My mother and Jonathan hid behind either side of the doorway to get out of the way. By the time I was out of range, I was dripping wet.