That One Day (That One #1.5)

by Josie Wright

  As soon as Dave heard her washing her hands, he flipped the light off upstairs—which was also my signal to flip the fuses, so she wouldn't be able to turn the lights back on.

  Though I couldn't see what was going on upstairs, I could hear it really well.

  “Shit, guys, it’s not funny, turn the lights back on, you assholes.”

  There was some stumbling around and I could hear her flicking the switch up and down.

  “Guys, I swear, as soon as I get down there without breaking my neck, I’ll break yours.” Her words might have been feisty, but the bravado in her voice was weak.

  A few seconds later, I could hear her try another light switch, followed by a lot of swearing.

  I tried hard not to laugh.

  She was at the top of the stairs now, a low dragging sound audible when she patted her way downstairs, still swearing, though not with as much confidence as before.

  Her feet hit the basement floor with a little thud.

  “I swear, I’m gonna...” Whatever she wanted to say was interrupted by a loud “Ouch,” followed by the noise of her rubbing whichever body part bumped against the treadmill her dad had collecting dust.

  Considering how much of a klutz she was, Dave and I should’ve been happy she hadn’t fallen down the stairs and broken her neck.

  “Guys, it’s not fucking funny,” she said timidly.

  When she shuffled closer, careful not to trip over anything else, I started to imitate Michael Myers’ slow and raspy breathing—the thing that freaked her out most about the movies.

  “Ben, Dave, I know it’s you idiots.” Her words were spoken in a high-pitched tone, making it even harder for me not to laugh. But I managed and just continued breathing, moving out from under the staircase, confusing her momentarily where the sounds were coming from.

  “Come on, you guys,” she pleaded, slowly freaking out, not realizing I had snuck up behind her.

  I was now inches away from her, breathing in her ear.

  She shrieked, whirling around trying to hit me, the whooshing sound easily distinguishable, but I had already moved back a few steps. Instead of pursuing me, she stumbled toward the staircase, and ducking under she flipped the fuses on. The light from the stairs illuminated the room, allowing me to watch her from where I was leaning against the couch, doubled over with laughter.

  She stormed toward me. “You motherfucker.” I moved out of the way, holding up my hands in mock surrender, still laughing.

  Her eyes were wide, her face was flushed from the scare and her voice shook when she started yelling and gave me a push. “You fucking asshole. I nearly had a heart attack.” Another push and another step back—not because she had the strength to move me, but it was fun to play along and watch her get all riled up.

  “This shit ain’t funny, you douchebag.”

  I was glad her parents weren't home with all the yelling going on.

  I grabbed her wrist, holding her still. Her pulse was racing.

  “Oh, come on. Admit it was funny.” I smirked at her.

  “No, it fucking wasn’t,” she spat out, but I noticed how hard she had to fight to keep the corners of her mouth from lifting up into a grin.

  “Where is the other asshole hiding?”

  I took on a serious face. “He should’ve been upstairs to scare you.”

  “Well, he wasn’t. Where is he?”

  “Seriously, I don’t know. He went upstairs,” I reaffirmed. “Maybe Michael Myers got him.” I started to smile when she struggled against my hold on her in order to punch me.

  Behind her, I saw Dave slither in through the basement window like he had no spine. He barely made a sound or at least not enough to be heard over Frankie’s yelling. “You can let go of my wrists now so I can punch you in the fucking face and wipe that stupid grin off it.”

  I felt my smile get wider, holding a bit tighter and yes, enjoying it too. But mostly, I wanted to keep her from knocking our lights out in a few moments.

  Dave placed a hand on her shoulder, while whispering, “Time to die.”

  Her shriek nearly pierced my eardrums and she jolted so hard, she would have lost her balance if not for me holding onto her.

  Dave started laughing, “Damn, this worked better than I thought.”

  I laughed along with him and Frankie used the distraction against me, yanking her hands from my grip. Next thing I knew was pain radiating from my shin that she had kicked hard with the ball of her foot. She turned around and slugged Dave in the stomach, causing him to grunt.

  “Glad you enjoyed it because it’ll be your last memory, you fuck-nut.”

  Between the scare and the anger, she was out of breath, her words coming out between pants. Even through the pain in my shin and the amusement, my brain registered it and I wondered if this is how she would sound panting for a whole other reason. Dammit, she was sixteen. And my best friend’s little sister.

  Doubled over, Dave was still laughing.

  “You should have seen your face. If you hadn’t just been upstairs to pee, we’d all be standing in a puddle now.”

  I cracked up at Dave’s stupid joke and held up my hand to Dave for a fist bump. That just fueled Frankie’s fire. She stepped up to Dave, getting a hold of his nipples through his shirt, and twisting them hard, making him hiss in pain. I did the sane thing and quickly covered mine before she could come for them because that shit hurts like hell.

  “You two assholes are a nightmare. I hate you.”

  Dave pulled her close, ignoring the struggle she put up. Holding her in a headlock, he ruffled her hair. “No, you don’t.”

  “Yeah, I fuckin’ do.” She stomped on his toes and when he let go, she walked over to the armchair, snatching away my blanket and Dave’s pillow, sitting down and curling up. Her mouth was scrunched up in a pout. She was staring to the side, ignoring us.

  “Come on, Stinker. You can’t be mad at us. We’re too awesome,” Dave teased her.

  Her hand slid out from underneath the blanket, flipping us the bird.

  “Don’t be a drag. You know we love you. Don’t we, Ben?” He looked to me, winking and I tried hard to not look like a deer in the headlights. But no, he couldn’t know I was into his sister. No way.

  Thankfully, Frankie didn't let me answer.

  “Well, I don’t love you guys. You’re a pain in the ass.”

  Dave raised his eyebrows at her. “I really hope you don’t know how anything up the ass feels like.”

  She looked at him wide-eyed, mouth agape for a moment before she started laughing and threw the pillow at his head.

  After we calmed down and stopped laughing, Dave spoke up again while I tried hard to concentrate on anything but her thin tank top.

  “By the way, Ben and I are going to a show next weekend. A few local bands are playing at the park in town. Wanna come?”

  I looked at her, attempting to appear like I didn’t care. I wasn't sure what I wanted—her to come with us so I could lust after her, or her not to come with us so I didn’t constantly imagine her naked.

  “Sorry guys, I already made plans to go with someone else.”

  Both Dave and I sat up straighter.

  “Who are you going with?” We asked in unison. Suddenly, heat snaked through my body and it wasn't the good kind. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was jealousy.

  “None of your business.”

  I glared at her while Dave went over, resting his hands on either side of her.

  “Don’t make me tickle you.”

  With an exasperated sigh she replied, “I’m going with Drake.”

  “Drake, the biker?” I asked, the heat inside of me at boiling level. Stupid fucker with his stupid fucking tattoos and his damn bike.

  “Yes, that Drake.” She sighed in exasperation, looking past Dave’s arm at me. “How do you guys know him?”

  “The question is how do you know him?” Dave asked, still right in front of her.

  “Could you maybe chill the
hell out? Both of you.” She shook her head like our behavior was the weirdest thing ever, though it wasn't. We might have loved to mess with her, tease her, annoy her, but when it came to her going on dates, Dave and I both got protective—although I would suppose it was for very different reasons.

  Dave backed off and I could see Frankie again without his ass in the way. She fidgeted, her foot drawing circles in the air and her hand repeatedly pushing her hair behind her ear.

  “You haven’t answered the question,” I said, curious to hear her answer. It’s not like their paths would usually cross.

  “Ugh. I met him at a party last weekend.”

  There was definitely more to it. She was withholding information and Dave noticed it, too.

  “What party? Just spit it out.”

  I leaned forward on the couch, my elbows resting on my knees.

  She looked to the ground, biting her lip, and I had a feeling I wouldn't like her answer. “I went to Leo’s party.”

  “Leo, the virginity hunter?” Dave and I asked.

  “Yes, that Leo.”

  “Why the fuck would you go to his party? Care to end up as a notch on his bedpost?” I asked. The idea of Leo’s hands on her nearly made me lose my damn composure.

  “I was there to party, not to fuck—for God’s sake. What is this? Not like you guys get to talk.” She was getting louder with every word, clearly upset at our line of questioning.

  “Oh, we’re nothing like Leo. We don’t need to get girls drunk to get in their pants and then boast about it on social media. Fuck, Frankie. That was stupid. Anything could have happened,” Dave explained, his voice laced with worry while I barely held back my anger.

  Leo had graduated with us. Rich boy whose parents were barely ever home and who was used to getting what he wanted. He was an asshole who was known for legendary parties—drugs, sex, and alcohol.

  “You’re only sixteen, Frankie. That’s not a place for you,” I added.

  “Guys, I’m not stupid. I didn’t leave my drink standing around, I only drank water, and I was there with a friend. Can we drop it now?” She huffed.

  “Fine, back to Drake,” Dave continued, earning himself another huff from Frankie. “Be careful, okay? He’s older than you and you’re my baby sister. I don’t want to go ballistic on his ass. He’s a nice enough guy.”

  I looked back and forth between Frankie and Dave, outraged he was dropping the topic just like that—letting Frankie go out with Drake. Fuck that. And I couldn’t even do anything about it. If her brother was okay with it, it would have looked a little weird if I went all caveman on her.

  Frankie’s lips pulled up into a small smile. “I’ll be careful, you dickwad.”

  Dave threw the pillow back at her and laid back.

  “Let’s catch some sleep before you tell us more shit that will force me into the role of overprotective brother despite the fact that I don’t give a damn about you.”

  “Love you, too, you ass.” Frankie laughed. “Night, guys.”

  I mumbled an incoherent version of “good night” while my brain went into overdrive thinking of all the ways to make Drake stay away from Frankie.

  Shaking my head at the memory, I open the door to Frankie’s room quietly in case she’s already asleep, although I know better. Announcing myself might be a good idea. I don’t want her to freak out and shriek like a banshee, waking up Archer in the process.

  “Babe, it’s just me. Don’t scream,” I whisper as I walk in and throw my blanket and pillow on the floor.

  “Ben, what exactly are you doing?”

  “Didn’t want you to spend all night looking for something lurking in the shadows, listening to any noise in the house, you little chickenshit.”

  “And what exactly are you doing on the floor?”

  “Well, we’re taking it slow, aren’t we?”

  “Yes, but that still means you can lie down in my bed next to me.”

  So I do, knowing that it will require some serious self-restraint to be this close to her and not touch her.

  Chapter 33

  Blast from the Past

  Dave and I are outside, playing football and ignoring the snow falling around us.

  He arrived early this morning, probably waking up the whole neighborhood with his incessant and loud knocking. It’s a miracle he didn’t take down the damn door.

  He throws the ball high and I have to lunge back to catch it.

  “So you two are official now?” he asks, rubbing his hands together to keep them warm.

  I think back to last night. Frankie and I talked—answering the questions that needed answering. I held her in my arms, relishing in the feel of her hand on my chest. The warmth that radiated from her body and her signature scent surrounding me made me feel at home. I feel like we’ve removed the remaining obstacles in our way. Now we’re able to go forward.

  Throwing the ball back, I reply. “I guess so. But we decided to take it slow.”

  His laugh comes out as a chortle. “I’d say eighteen months is slow enough.”

  “You’re basically saying I should fuck your sister sooner, then?”

  The ball thumps hard into my stomach, knocking the air out of me. “Damn, I don’t even want to consider you and my sister fucking.” He gags. “But for the sake of everyone in your vicinity, you two should get it over with. I’ve only been here a couple of hours and am choking on the damn sexual tension.”

  After catching my breath, I throw the ball back to him, making him run on purpose as payback for his last throw.

  “How long did you know about us?”

  “About you two fucking in my parents’ house?” He raises his eyebrows. “Since I found Frankie on the couch that night. About you having the hots for my baby sister?” He pauses for extra effect, spinning the football on his finger with a smug grin on his face. “Since she went out on her first date and you sat there as if someone took a shit in your cereal.”

  I’m baffled, my jaw dropping open as I stare at him. “How the fuck did you know?”

  “Seriously, man? Even if I hadn’t had an idea when she went out for the first time, your reaction to her dating Drake gave it away. You looked like you were five seconds away from killing the guy.”

  He throws the ball and I recover from the surprise just in time to catch it. “I thought I was all fucking stealthy and shit.”

  Dave guffaws. “Dude, you had us following her around on her first date, all in the name of making sure she’s safe. As if Frankie was ever a damsel in distress.”

  “Good thing I’m not a secret agent.”

  “Fuck, man, you’d be done for. There was nothing secret about your feelings for Frankie.”

  We head to the shed, shoving each other back and forth. “You okay with it? With me and your sister?”

  “Hell, yeah. As long as I don’t have to see your pasty, naked ass in action, I don’t care what the two of you do.”

  “What was the left hook for then?”

  He gives me another shove. “She might not be a damsel in distress, but she’s still my little sister and you broke her bitchy, little heart. You had that one coming.”

  “Fair enough. You still hit like a girl.” I duck to escape the left jab coming my way.

  Once in the shed, I show him the pendant I made for Frankie.

  Dave looks it over slowly, inspecting the craftsmanship before he asks.

  “So what’s Viv’s deal?”

  I smirk at him. “Why do you wanna know?”

  “Fuck you, man.” Dave groans. “Is she single, seeing somebody, playing for the other team?”

  “Don’t tell me you’re interested in her. She basically outplayed you earlier,” I say, referring to their verbal standoff this morning.

  “What shall I say? I like a challenge.”

  “Really? Since when? The chicks you used to pick up weren’t much of a challenge at all.”

  “Maybe I’ve grown up in your absence, man.” He chuckles. “So will
you spill or what?”

  “She has a fuck buddy. She doesn’t play for the other team. That’s as much as I know. She doesn’t really wear her heart on her sleeve.”

  “Well, I just might have to dig deeper then.” Dave grins, sure of himself. I, on the other hand, am not so sure he knows what he’s getting himself into. Viv isn’t one to put up with shit, even less so than Frankie.

  “The only thing you’ll be digging is your grave.”

  ***

  After we warmed up with some of Frankie’s homemade eggnog, we sit around the living room shooting the shit and talking about days gone by.

  All the shit we were up to, parties we went to, and the girls we used to hook up with. It’s all fun and games while we talk about Dave’s conquests, but then he goes and ruins it all.

  “Ben, you remember Melanie?”

  “Which Melanie?” I ask because there are several options. What shall I say? I was a pig.

  Frankie shoots a glare my way. “Seriously, there were so many Melanies that you have to ask which one? Ugh.”

  I shrug, knowing no answer is going to win me any brownie points. Instead, I put my arm around her and pull her to me, ignoring her death stare.

  “Melanie, the BJ queen. Back in the day you said you would never forget that talented mouth.” Dave is enjoying himself, well aware he’s getting Frankie all riled up and I’m the victim she’ll take it out on. I shoot him a look, but he just smirks.

  I don’t have to wait long for Frankie’s reaction. “Ewwww, you seriously let Mel Jenkins anywhere near you? Really? Oh, that’s gross. She fucked her way through high school.” She scoots away, her face pulled into a disgusted frown.

  “Well, if it makes it any better, I was one of the first ones.”

  Dave groans, shaking his head at me.

  “Oh, you’re disgusting.” Frankie shakes herself. “And I’m letting you touch me with those hands?”

  I give her my best grin, the one that can melt panties in five seconds flat, but she just curls her lip up in disgust. “You’ll be bathing in acid before you come anywhere near me again.”