by A. D. Ellis
Forever Better Together
A.D. Ellis
Copyright © 2019 by A.D. Ellis
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Introduction
Author’s Note
1. Quincy Sanders
2. Griffin Murphy-Sanders
3. Quincy
4. Griffin
5. Quincy
6. Griffin
7. Quincy
8. Griffin
9. Quincy
10. Griffin
11. Quincy
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by A.D. Ellis
Introduction
This story is part of the Common Elements Romance Project.
Over 70 Romance Writers, 5 Story Elements.
https://commonelementsromanceproject.wordpress.com/
Each story in the project could be a romance of any sub-genre, but HAD to include the following elements:
-->a lightning storm
-->lost keys
-->a haunted house (really haunted or rumored to be)
-->a stack of thick books
-->a person named Max (which can be short for something)
These books will be releasing between October and January with tons of fun and giveaways on Facebook. Be sure to check out ALL the information at the above link.
Author’s Note
This story was so much fun to write! The idea for Quincy and Griffin came about from a simple text I stumbled upon between two stepbrothers. Of course, I took artistic liberties, but this entire story grew from that one text I saw. I hope you love Quincy and Griffin as much as I do.
1
Quincy Sanders
I grabbed my phone from the pocket of my hoodie. Empty Chinese containers littered the coffee table as Dad and I watched a movie, but he was absorbed in his computer, and I had no idea what the movie was even about. I pulled up Griffin’s number and sent him a text.
Me: You having fun, bitch?
Griffin: Yeah, where are you?
Me: My dad’s.
Griffin: Again? Damn, man, sorry.
Me: Yeah, for the week. It’s not bad.
Griffin: Awww yeah, I get the room to myself.
Me: Jack off all you want.
Griffin: Nah, it just means I get to watch Disney movies and cry without you making fun of me.
Me: And jack off.
Griffin: Okay, and jack off.
I snorted.
Griffin was my brother and best friend.
Okay, he wasn’t my blood-related brother, but that didn’t matter to me. He was my brother in all the ways that mattered. We were sixteen, but we’d known each other since we were ten. He became my brother when we were twelve.
“What are you over there snorting about?” My dad, Max, removed his glasses and looked away from his work like he really was interested. He was a great guy, and I loved him, but he had a bad habit of getting too involved in his work and forgetting his family.
“I was talking to Grif, and got to thinking about how much we clashed when he first moved in.” I shook my head.
“Oh, Momma and Pops told me how terrible you guys were at first.” Dad laughed. “Glad you finally decided to get along. Pretty sure Momma would have kicked both your asses if you hadn’t.”
“It wasn’t like we hated each other; we just clashed. We had absolutely nothing in common and Momma threw us together and basically expected two ten-year-olds to work out their differences.”
“Well, you two must have done a pretty good job since he’s your best friend. Momma usually knows what she’s doing.”
“Yeah, she sure called it right. I never would have believed it then, but it worked out.” I smiled at the thought of when I first met Griffin.
Six Years Ago
Momma, that’s what everyone called my grandma, held the hand of the tiny, fragile looking boy, who was about my age.
“Quincy, this is Griffin. He’s going to be staying with us for a while,” Momma said. “Griffin will share your room; there’s plenty of space.” This was said in her no-nonsense way that meant no arguing or backtalk.
Griffin barely glanced at me, but I saw tears in his big blue eyes.
Damn it. I didn’t want to come across like an asshole, and Momma would have my ass if I did. But I didn’t want to share my room.
Bad enough my mom was dead and my dad was overseas building business startups for years at a time then add in the fact that my grandparents, Momma and Pops, took in foster kids and I never had any privacy. Then Momma introduces me to this kid who looked like he would faint if I said anything to him. Damn it.
I loved my grandparents and knew they had huge hearts to take care of those less fortunate. I just would have liked it to be in a way that didn’t require me to share my room. The last time I shared my room, Momma had rolled in two cribs and I’d spent six months sleeping with babies who’d cried at every hour it seemed.
“Quincy, say hello,” Momma urged and raised her brows.
“Hi, Griffin. Nice to meet you,” I mumbled and held out my hand.
Griffin hid his head in my grandma’s side.
“He’s been through a lot. Let’s get him set up in his room.” Momma left no room for discussion.
Griffin and I followed her up the stairs and down the hall.
“Here we go. This is where you’ll sleep. The bed is very comfortable.” Momma pointed to the far side of the room where the spare bed was positioned. “The closet is huge so you both can put your clothes in there.”
“I don’t have no clothes anyway,” Griffin mumbled.
“We’ll get you all set up, sweetie,” Momma assured. “Now, I’ve got to see about the other children and get dinner started. You boys get to know each other. I’m sure you’ll be the best of friends.”
Griffin stood in the middle of the room looking scared to death.
“Look, this is a nice place. Momma and Pops will take care of you.” I felt the need to reassure him.
“I know you don’t want me here. No one ever wants me anywhere,” Griffin whispered. “I’m sorry you have to give up your room to me.”
My heart hurt for the kid. But damn Momma for putting him in my room. He would have been better with the little ones. He seemed like he was scared to death of me.
Griffin was short. He likely weighed less than me by at least twenty pounds. His skin was fair; my skin was dark. His eyes were blue; my eyes were deep brown. His hair light brown; my hair black. He had a look of perpetual fear and fragileness; I was sturdy, strong, and not afraid of much.
“Nah, you keep out of my business and don’t bother me, we’ll be fine roommates.” I plopped on my bed. Did Griffin want to tell me what brought him to Momma and Pops? Probably not. Most foster kids didn’t have great stories to tell. “You got questions?”
Griffin sat gently on the side of his bed. “Are Momma and Pops your parents?”
I laughed. “Not really. They’re my grandparents officially, but they might as well be my biological parents. My mom died when I was born. My dad, his name is Max, he’s great. But he works in other countries setting up businesses. I’ve lived with Momma and Pops since I was about three. I go visit my dad any time he’s back in the United States.”
“What’s the school like here?” Griffin whispered.
I immediately hated the thought that he’d be going to the run-down trash public school down the street. He’d either be ea
ten alive or he’d be such a non-threat that no one would pay him any attention. I prayed for the latter. I’d have to tell the few remaining neighborhood kids who went to the public school to keep an eye out for him.
“Well, it’s not the best school ever,” I hedged.
“Figures. None of the schools I’ve ever been to have been good.” Griffin ran a hand along the comforter. “Do you at least like it a little?”
I swallowed hard and tried not to feel guilty. “Um, I don’t go to that school. A lot of kids in this area go to private schools.”
Griffin’s eyes were wide. “Wow, private school.” He shook his head. “We are probably the most different kids to ever share a room.”
I laughed. “Possibly.”
“Is there a washing machine? I probably need to get these clothes washed; I’ve had them on for a few days.” Griffin picked at a spot on his shirt.
“Momma will do your laundry. She’ll get you some clothes for now. She’s always got all kinds of clothes in different sizes. Then she’ll probably take you shopping and get you all set up for school.” I glanced around the room. “You can do your homework at the kitchen table or on your bed. Use that little table if you want.” I gestured toward the small table. “I use the desk for my homework.”
Griffin nodded. “I like to do homework. Keeps me busy and out of the way.”
I frowned. “You like homework? Gross.”
He shrugged.
“What else do you like?”
“I like to read and watch movies. Dancing is fun. I like makeup videos.” He added that last part almost as a challenge.
“Like Halloween haunted house type makeup?”
He shrugged. “Any kind. You think that’s girly?”
I shook my head. “Whatever floats your boat. Momma and Pops don’t allow us to judge others for what they come from or what they like.” I glanced at my collection of DVDs. “What kind of movies?”
“Mostly Disney if I can find them,” Griffin said.
“I think I’ve got some Disney down there. I’ve also got a ton of movies on my computer.” I got up and pulled out the laptop I used only for watching movies. “I don’t use this for homework or anything. You can use it to watch movies if I’m not using it.”
The way Griffin’s eyes lit up made me feel guilty for being mad about sharing my room.
“You like dancing? What about singing?” I asked.
Griffin nodded but looked suspicious.
“There are two girls here who love to dance and sing and put on shows. I bet they’d be thrilled for you to do their makeup and help with dancing and singing.”
Griffin didn’t say anything, but I thought he looked pleased with the idea.
The next day, after a night of trying to sleep even though Griffin seemed to toss and turn, Momma came bustling into my room.
“I figure we better get you some clothes and shoes,” she told Griffin as she tossed my laundry on my bed and took Griffin some clothes. “These will get you through at least today. You get a shower and change into these. Quincy, you show Griffin where the laundry goes. We’ll leave for shopping after breakfast. Just the three of us.”
“Momma,” I began to protest but the look she shot me had me biting my tongue.
Griffin kept his head down and scurried to the bathroom across the hall. I heard Momma tell him where the towels and washcloths were. Then she tramped down the stairs as the water came on.
When Griffin came back to the room, his hair still wet, he looked like the shower had breathed new life into him. “I’m sorry you have to go shopping with us,” he murmured.
“No worries. Momma will buy us lunch, so it’s not all bad.” I stood from the Lego set I was working on. “I’m going to shower, then it will be breakfast. You can use my Legos if you want. Just don’t lose any of the pieces. And we have to be sure they are cleaned up. You don’t want to see Momma if she steps on a Lego.”
Griffin smiled slightly and it warmed my heart. From that point on, I promised myself I’d do everything in my power to give the kid something to smile about. He might have been intruding on my privacy, but he didn’t seem to have much bringing him smiles, and I wanted to give him that.
When I came back from my shower, Griffin was on the floor putting together the bricks, but he dropped them and scooched across the floor as soon as he saw me. “Sorry, I didn’t mess them up, I promise.”
I shook my head. “No worries, Grif, I told you that you could play with them.”
He smiled. “My mom used to call me Grif when my dad wasn’t around. He hated it. Said it made me sound like a dog or something.”
“I’m sorry, would you rather I not call you Grif?”
“No, I like it.”
“Cool. I’ve got more where that came from G, G-Man, The Griffin-nator.” I laughed at Griffin’s scrunched up face. “Okay, okay. Griffin, Grif, and maybe G. Nothing else.”
Griffin nodded and bit back a smile.
He helped me clean up the blocks, and we headed down to breakfast.
At that point in time, Momma and Pops had two girls around five or six, a baby about two-years-old, and a baby about one-year-old, plus Griffin and me. Breakfast was a lively affair and Momma expected me to help as much as possible. Griffin sat quietly and took it all in. The friendliness, laughter, and easiness in the room seemed unfamiliar to him. When one of the girls knocked over her milk, Griffin’s face immediately took on a look of shear panic. But Pops just grabbed the cup and wiped up the milk telling us all, “No need to cry over spilled milk.” Griffin’s eyes grew wide and he continued watching the scene before him in seemingly absolute shock.
By the time we headed out to the store, Griffin looked as if his eyes would never go back to their normal size.
“I guess this is all kinda new for you, huh?” I asked as we sat in the far back of Momma’s van.
Griffin could only nod.
“Not all families are bad,” I said.
He gave me a look that showed his doubt, but we arrived at the store before we could continue the conversation.
Momma marched us to the boys’ section and had Griffin try on a few things.
While he was in the dressing room, which I figured was another new thing for him, I stood close to Momma. “He’s not used to this.”
“I reckon not,” she agreed.
“You got enough for clothes and some other things?”
She side-eyed me. “I’ve got enough. Why?”
I shrugged. “Just thinking he’d like some stuff of his own in my room.”
“We’ll get shoes next, and then we can get some toys or games.”
“Probably would like some books and movies,” I suggested.
She gave me a look, but nodded. “We’ll get him all settled. He’s been through a lot.”
“Yeah,” I said sadly. “Think he wants to talk about it?”
“That will be up to him. Don’t press him.” Momma put her arm around me and pulled me close. “I know I don’t usually make you share your room if I can keep from it, but I think Griffin needs to have a friend his age.”
I just nodded. “Sucks he’s gotta go to that crap school.”
“Watch your mouth,” Momma warned, but she sighed. “I hate that he has to attend Briar Ridge, but there’s no way around it. We don’t get enough money from the state to pay for private school tuition. We’ll just have to help him as much as we can at home.”
Griffin finally opened the dressing room door, and Momma and I turned around.
“Well now, you’re looking quite spiffy. These sizes look right, just as I suspected.” Momma fussed over Griff’s pants and shirt. “We’ll get a couple pairs of pants and some more shirts. Won’t have to try them all on since we know these fit.”
“More? One is fine, thank you,” Griffin stuttered.
“Man, you can’t wear one pair of pants and one shirt all week.” I shook my head.
Griffin returned to the dressing room and changed out
of the new clothes before returning to where Momma and I stood.
“Come on,” I demanded, and we followed Momma to the shelves of pants and shirts.
Momma held a pair of khakis and a pair of jeans. “You like jeans or pants better?”
Griffin simply shook his head and whispered, “I don’t know. Any are okay.”
“Momma, he needs some sports pants too,” I interjected. “Jeans, khakis, and two sports pants.”
Momma nodded and gathered up the items I listed. “Okay, now shirts. I think we can do seven shirts. These are on a great sale.”
Griffin looked as if he was about to fall over.
“Come on. Pick some colors,” I urged.
When Griffin just stood and ran a hand over the shirts, I stepped in. “I think you need a blue, black, and red for sure.”
Griffin just watched as I threw the shirts in Momma’s cart.
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Pink, red, and baby blue,” Griff muttered.
“Okay, that makes it easy. Already got the red. Here’s a nice pink and a baby blue.” I tossed those in the cart. “You have to pick the next two by yourself.”
Griffin bit his lip and looked as if he was about to hyperventilate, but he gently picked up the darker pink option and the orange. He glanced at the cart as if afraid to put the shirts in it.
“Toss ‘em in,” I commanded. “Shoes next, right Momma?”
“Yes sir,” Momma agreed with a smirk.
I was used to pricey shoes because my dad made enough money to keep me in them. The shoe selection at this store was not what I was used to, but Griffin looked at the shoes as if they were the best things he’d ever seen. For the first time, I noticed his shoes and realized he probably hadn’t had new shoes in a very long time, if ever.