by Andy Gallo
“She’s waiting outside at the fence,” Ed said, slamming his head back against the seat. His fierce brotherly instincts had Jack catching his breath. He reached over and rubbed Ed’s thigh.
“We’re almost there. She’ll be okay.”
“She’s never done this before. Never been drunk.”
“It says a lot that she trusts you to call when she’s stuck.”
Ed pinched his nose. “She was sobbing, Jack. What if something else happened?”
Jack tightened his grip on the wheel. “Take a deep breath. She needs you to be calm and supportive when you get there.”
Ed hauled in a lungful of air and let it out slowly. “Okay. Calm. I’m calm.”
Only just.
God, Jack wanted to wrap him up and soothe his worry. “Hilldale Road. What was the number?”
“There she is. Right there. Stop the car.”
Jack halted, and Ed ripped himself out into the dark street studded with dim lamplight. He charged over to his sister, slouched on the ground at the fence, another girl lying with her head in Becky’s lap.
Jack double-parked, grabbed a spare bottle of water he had from the back, and jumped out to help.
“Becky, are you okay?” Ed caressed her bangs out of her sleepy eyes.
She groaned. “Too much punch. Threw up in the bushes. The boys were laughing.”
Fucking moron teenage boys.
“Casey drank more. She cried for me to get her home. I didn’t know what to do. Called you.”
Jack checked Casey’s vitals. She seemed fine, just sleeping. He stirred her awake anyway to check she was all right. “How much did she drink?” he asked Becky.
Becky’s drowsy vision struggled to focus on him. “Jack? You brought Jack, Eddy?”
Now wasn’t the time for Ed to freak about possibly being found out. “We were catching a movie. How much did you both drink?”
“Five cups. Casey had six or seven.”
A lot for petite sixteen-year-olds, but they should be fine.
Jack helped Casey to her feet, and Ed sighed as he scooped his sister into his arms and pulled her off the damp ground.
Becky curled her head against Ed’s chest and sniffed. “I’m so sorry I ruined your night. I—”
“Shhh. Let’s just get you both home.”
They bundled the girls into the back seat and strapped them in. Ed chose to sit between them in case they needed attention. Jack tossed him an old plastic bag, should the contents of those five, six, or seven cups make a sudden reappearance.
Given directions to Casey’s place, Jack drove her home first. Ed took her to the front door, and Jack winced as he watched her parents stumble out in their pajamas and the row begin. Casey safe, Ed stole back to the Jeep.
“You all right?” Jack asked as Ed climbed into the back seat once more.
“Certainly been a night of heightened emotion.”
“Eddy?” Becky said in a small voice as Jack drove them toward home.
“You going to chuck?” Ed asked, plastic bag rustling.
Her voice came out small, meek. “Please don’t tell Mom and Dad? They’ll be so disappointed.”
At the stoplight, Jack looked at Ed through the rearview mirror. He was looking at his sister, frowning. “I have to tell them, Becky. They might be disappointed, but they have to know.”
Becky started to sob. “Can’t we just keep it a secret? I promise I’ll never get drunk again. Please, they don’t have to know….”
Ed leaned back in his seat and stared out the window. “I understand wanting to hide it. Understand how much you’re afraid of them finding out….”
“They’ll hate me.”
“No. No, they won’t,” Ed said quietly. “They love you; they care about you.”
“Please don’t tell them.”
“They’ll find out eventually.”
“Maybe they won’t.”
“You don’t think Casey’s parents are going to call?”
“So you’re going to tell them?”
“Better we do it than they find out some other way.” Ed looked up, and his gaze snagged with Jack’s. They stared at each other until it was time to drive. Ed didn’t respond, and when Jack finally arrived back in his dorm room an hour later, he fell asleep praying Ed told his parents.
Chapter Fifteen
Outside the house, Jack pulled his hoodie up against a cool drizzle.
“Jack, wait up!” Marcus called from behind him. “Here.” An umbrella was thrust into Jack’s hand. “You’re gonna need it later.”
“You went up to get this for me?”
“Not just yours, I forgot mine too.” They walked through campus, rain tapping on their umbrellas, shoes splashing through shallow puddles. Marcus slowed as they approached the humanities building.
“Brittany dragged me back to the café where Loch Ness works yesterday.”
Yesterday being three days after his birthday evening at Studio 63. Two days since Jack had snuck over to Ed’s.
Jack nudged Marcus. “I thought you weren’t going to call her that?”
“I didn’t do it to her face. I did what you suggested; I was nice to her.”
Jack laughed. “Or at least as nice as you could be.”
“Ask Brit, I was good.”
“And how did Vanessa react?”
“Like her normal psychotic self.” Marcus shook his head. “She glared at me, huffed while taking our order, practically threw the food at me, and her one attempt at nice was to thank me for not bringing my bag with me for her to trip on.”
Jack wasn’t so surprised after the way Marcus had ignored Nessa’s attempts to be friendly at Studio 63. He shook his head. Sooner or later these two would figure it out.
“Look,” Jack said, “I gotta rush to class—”
“What’s up, man?”
“What?”
“You’ve been distant lately.”
Jack shrugged. “Nah, I’m fine. Good.”
“That’s a load of bullshit.” Marcus stepped closer and their umbrellas bumped, making the collected water rain between them. “You alternate between being glued to your phone screen and looking at me like I’m about to tear into you. What’s going on?”
Spit it out. Now is the perfect time to tell him. As any other day the last week would have been.
He couldn’t bear the fallout when Marcus realized the state of his bet. Thing was, Marcus would always be at his back. He’d do whatever Jack needed to make him happy. He’d willingly put up with years of Harper giving them shit if Jack asked him to.
Jack hated the thought. It twisted his gut that he’d be the reason his best friend—and all his friends—suffered. Folding and losing the bet seemed like a shitty thing to do. Convincing Ed to come along was an even shittier one under the circumstances. And the idea of finding someone—anyone else—to take for the night felt… too much like cheating.
He could explain his situation to Ed. Tell him why he needed to take another date and that it wouldn’t mean anything, but as soon as he mentioned the bet, it would be putting pressure on Ed to be the one to come with him. Pressure Ed had left his last boyfriend for.
Which brought him back to the point: he was screwed.
He didn’t know how to tell his best friend that.
Marcus smirked. “Okay, man, I got you. You two aren’t getting enough time to get it out of your system.”
Jack shook his head just as his Chem professor walked past. “I’m late—can we talk later?”
Marcus lifted a brow. “That sounds ominous.”
Jack managed a weak smile. “After lacrosse practice?”
“Yeah, that works.” Jack’s pocket vibrated as he dashed toward his lecture. He answered. “Morning.”
“Good morning.” Ed sounded deliciously excited.
“You’re in a good mood.”
“My parents and sis are taking a trip this weekend.”
Jack stopped just outside the lab. “You�
�ll be in that big house all alone?”
“Not all alone, I hope.”
“Text me the details.”
“You bet your ass I will.”
That made one bet Jack really liked the sound of.
“I’ve looked everywhere,” Marcus said as he and Jack made their way out of the house. “They’re nowhere. I even checked under my mattress, you know, just in case I’d put them there in my sleep or something. Dammit, I can’t flunk this test. I need those notes.”
Jack shook his head. “Maybe someone took them as a joke? Have you asked around?”
“I’ve talked to practically the entire house. No one’s seen them lying around anywhere.”
“Maybe you left them in class?”
“They weren’t there when I checked. I don’t know, and I don’t need this right now. I got a big game this weekend. I’m not gonna have a whole lot of time to play catch-up. I’ll have to call around asking to use someone else’s study notes. I asked if Terry will lend me his from accounting, but I don’t really hang with anyone in philosophy, and that’s the test I have.”
“Aren’t there any online notes?” Jack bit his lip. Marcus wasn’t saying it, but there was the obvious: Little Miss Nessa.
“No.” His brother shouldered through the swing door, and they trudged across the lawn. Jack’s phone buzzed, and he yanked it out on the double.
Damn, not from him. Stupid spam texts.
“Whoa. You expecting a call or something?”
“Um… sorta. But this was just a text.” And not from Ed. Jack shoved the phone back in his pocket and continued following a stressed Marcus across campus.
A secret smile quirked at his lips as they entered the eclectic café. Marcus just kept on coming here. Maybe he didn’t like to think of himself as “hanging out” with anyone from philosophy, but considering how often he came here, he sorta was. Yep, Brittany was right. This thing was some type of dance. The only question was how it would end.
Nessa raised a brow from behind the counter as they came in. “The usual?”
Jack nodded, while Marcus ignored her completely and made his way to a table at the side of the room. The table had a surprisingly good view of the café. Especially the counter.
Jack let slip a chuckle.
“Huh?” Marcus asked.
“Nothing.”
“Doesn’t sound like nothing. Wait, don’t tell me, I get it. You’re clucking over your guy.” Marcus waggled his brows and, instead of dropping his bag to the floor, slipped it over his chair. “Still going good with you two?”
“Better than good. His parents and sis are away this weekend. We’re going to catch up, and so—”
“—so I guess I shouldn’t be expecting you back Saturday night?”
“That’s the plan, smart guy.”
Marcus punched his shoulder. “You wanted to talk to me about something. What’s up?”
Jack licked his lips and shuffled forward on his chair. “Right, yeah. It’s just—”
Nessa strolled over and set Jack’s coffee down with a smile. She placed Marcus’s in front of him.
“Prepared for the test Monday?” she asked with a nervous twinge to her voice. Was she trying to be nice?
Frustrated and relieved at the interruption, Jack sipped the coffee, paying close peripheral attention.
“Prepared, pffft.” Marcus tapped his head. “I got everything up here.”
“You don’t sound sure.”
“I could, if you didn’t distract me all the time.”
“That, and he didn’t lose his notes,” Jack added with an inward smirk.
Marcus threw him a look that threatened to saw him in two. Whoa.
Nessa bit her bottom lip, as if struggling to keep from laughing.
“I haven’t lost them, exactly,” Marcus tried. “They’re just… misplaced. Still could turn up.”
“Uh-huh.” Nessa glanced to the strap of Marcus’s bag, carefully slung over the chair. Her eyes suddenly sparkled. “You know all you have to do is ask and I’ll give you mine.”
Jack gulped more coffee. Poor Marcus was too stubborn for that. No way he’d be asking her now.
Nessa left Marcus with a shaking head. “Nope. I’m so not asking her. Rather flunk.”
“Really? You’d let her beat you?”
“Shit.”
Marcus snuck glances at Nessa three times over the course of two coffees. Whenever she caught him looking, he narrowed his eyes into a scowl.
Twice Jack had started to explain the bet situation, and twice he copped out.
He paid for their drinks, sliding a twenty across the counter. Nessa smiled at him, gaze dancing over his shoulder to where Marcus breathed at the back of his neck. When she gave him the change, he took two ones and left the rest.
Nessa glanced at Marcus again, opened her mouth, shut it again and mumbled, “Thanks.”
As they rounded the counter to leave, Nessa called from behind them. “Wait a sec.”
She reached out and grabbed Marcus’s arm. His brother looked down at the fingers around his wrist and turned around. Jack tried to leave them some space, but an influx of women carrying field hockey sticks charged into the café.
“Just take them.” Nessa flipped his bag open and shoved a folder into it.
“Seriously, I’ll find those notes.”
“And I’ll be the next Descartes.”
A grin twitched in Marcus’s cheek.
“Look, I have multiple copies—I rewrite all my notes as I study. I don’t need these. And if yours show up, you can give them back to me.” She shrugged. “Or if you don’t want to do that, chuck ’em.”
Finally the door was free and Jack darted outside.
Marcus was ten seconds behind him. “Can you believe that girl?”
“Yes, actually.”
“I mean, that she actually had the audacity….”
“You took the notes, didn’t you?”
Marcus flushed slightly. “I could hardly shove them back at her. Besides, she really had to get back to work. Those women were so impatient. You’d think they could wait a minute, give the girl a break.”
Jack smiled and bumped his fist on Marcus’s arm. “You know what? I think it’s nice Nessa gave you those notes. She seems all right, you know?”
Marcus shook his head, but his “You’re crazy” didn’t sound convincing at all.
Jack slid his phone back in his pocket with a dorky smile stained to his face. The details were set. This time tomorrow, he’d be curled up with Ed.
He started down the hall, en route to his room, when Seth and Billy came out of the common lounge. “Jackson,” Billy called, flashing his teeth in a wide smile. “Guess what?”
Seth elbowed Billy’s side and glared. “What?” Billy said. “Come on, it’s funny.”
“Funny, yeah, ha-ha until they penny our room shut and I get stuck in there.”
“Dude, you’re going to get way worse than a penny lock. I’d watch your car; there’ll be a toilet seat instead of your driver’s seat by morning.”
Seth went green and groaned. “I gotta go move my car.” He shot down the hall.
“What did he do?” Jack continued down the hall. His little bro shoved his hands in his pockets and followed.
“It was an accident.” Billy giggled.
“Dude, if you can’t tell me, I gotta go.”
“Hold your shorts, Jackson.” Billy danced away to avoid Jack’s swipe. “There was this bunch of really brown bananas in the kitchen, you know the really rotten kind that attract fruit flies? Seth was really grossed out by them, so he grabbed the bunch and flung it toward the trash can.
“Perfect shot, great arc and all. Just as he’s about to score, Greg opens the back door and gets right in the path. Seth scored all right, hit that douche right in the chest.”
Billy waved his hands. “The bananas exploded. I mean, these bitches were so mushy. There’s mush everywhere, and most of it was on Greg.”
>
“Serves him right for being Harper’s minion.”
“Well, he was pissed. Tried to get Darren to fuck with us, but even Darren was laughing too hard. Greg kept shouting about how he was gonna kick our asses. That d-bag charged at us and slipped on the mush. Fell over, flopping like fish outta water. Fucking hilarious.”
Jack grinned, glancing over his shoulder toward the kitchen. “Greg still in there?”
“Who knows. It’s karma, right? I caught Greg and Harper ripping down Marcus’s election posters this afternoon. Oh hey, is Marcus still looking for his notes? I reckon the mystery of where they went is washing banana off himself.”
Jack didn’t have it in him to be pissed. Not that he’d admit this to Harper or his wingmen, but nicking those notes might’ve been the best thing they’d done all year.
Jack’s phone buzzed.
“I’d better chase after Seth, check if he’s okay. Gonna go shoot some hoops later, wanna come with?”
“I’ll pass. Gotta finish an essay.” So he could spend the weekend with Ed and not have to worry about it.
Billy bounded down the hall, and Jack checked his phone.
Ed: If you bring dinner, then how ’bout I get a movie and organize dessert?
He hoped organize dessert meant buying supplies for a long night. He shook off the horndog thought and replied with a smiley face.
Harper strolled down the hall in jeans and pressed T-shirt, fiddling with his watch. He looked up, lip curling at one side. “Two weeks left, Murphy boy. What’s it going to be: Staying here for your dad or leaving for the sake of your friends?”
God, Jack wanted to smash Harper’s grin permanently to his face. “Fuck you.”
“In your dreams, Murphy boy.”
Harper disappeared around the corner, and Jack flicked a bird to the empty space. Shit. What would he choose?
Chapter Sixteen
Sunday evening, Jack got back to campus in one helluva good mood. He pushed open the door to his room to find Marcus sprawled over Jack’s bed, chin resting on his hands.