The Duke of Bannerman Prep

by Katie Nelson

I watched while my mom offered him sodas, pretzels, and leftover Christmas candy. The Duke smiled back. He wasn’t drunk. Probably just tired from the flight.

  When she went back in the kitchen, I finally got a chance to talk to him. “When did you get back? You totally jet-lagged?”

  “Not too bad. How was your Christmas?”

  Sam interrupted us. “Santa brought me a big blue truck. It’s a Dodge Ram. Super Cab. With a trailer hitch. And a trailer ball.” He pointed out all of the features to the Duke, who listened patiently, despite the fact that it took Sam so long to get the words out.

  My mom was back, handing the Duke a large glass of ice water. On the TV, images of people dancing and laughing in Times Square flashed on the screen. My mom watched the show while Sam opened and closed the doors on his truck, insisting that the Duke feel the treads on the tires.

  As the TV switched to a commercial, she said, “You guys need to go out. Do something fun. Go to that party Abby was talking about. You’ve got the rest of your lives to be middle-aged and boring.”

  I didn’t think the Duke would want to go to any party where Abby and Blake would be, especially on New Year’s Eve when Blake would be attached to Abby like a leech, sucking the life out of her all night, but when I looked at the Duke, he seemed interested. My mom, in her flannel pajama pants, frizzy ponytail, and faded T-shirt, seemed like she was making a casual suggestion, but I knew better. She’d been trying to get me out of the house all week, encouraging me to do stuff with my old friends. I think she knew that something had happened, but I hadn’t wanted to talk about it and she hadn’t pushed. Maybe she thought if I hung out with my Hollister friends tonight, everything would go back to the way it had been last summer. It wouldn’t, but if it made her happy, I’d go.

  “Okay. Let me change,” I said.

  When I walked out of my bedroom a few minutes later, she was back in pit bull–mother mode, insisting that we not drink and drive, demanding that we be extra vigilant on the roads, describing the carnage she’d seen last year in the ER.

  The Duke held his right hand up in the air and promised. “If it’s too late, we can crash at my house,” he offered. “It’s closer to the city.”

  My mom paused, considering. I could tell she didn’t like the idea of me not coming home, but the winding roads were far more dangerous. “Fine,” she said, “but call me when you get there so I won’t worry.” I nodded, giving her a one-armed hug as I grabbed my keys off the counter. If we were going to this party, I was driving. I was not showing up with bugs in my teeth tonight. The Duke could pick up his car tomorrow.

  When we were outside, the door firmly closed behind us, I said, “You should teach classes. Manipulating Overprotective Mothers 101. People would pay thousands of dollars to learn your secrets.”

  The Duke waited while I unlocked the Bronco. “Mothers love me.”

  I shook my head as I started the truck. “Must be rough—getting everything you want.”

  He stared out the window as we headed for the freeway. “You have no idea,” he said. But it was hard to hear him over the engine noise and the stereo.

  I had thought the whole point of the Duke letting me drive was so we could get to the party without having scary hair and arriving in the early stages of hypothermia. I was wrong. He was texting, sending messages to anyone and everyone we knew to meet us. The party was being held in an old warehouse turned nightclub in San Jose, and though Abby had failed to mention it to my mom, I was pretty sure I’d need a fake ID, which I didn’t have.

  When we found a parking spot on the street a few blocks over, I wasn’t convinced that we’d actually see the inside of the club.

  The Duke wasn’t worried. “Relax, mate,” he said, as we walked toward the entrance. There was a short line outside. While we waited, his phone beeped nonstop. When we reached the two large Samoan bouncers guarding the door, I elbowed him.

  He tossed his hair out of his eyes and smiled. “Te’o! What’s up, mate?”

  The next thing I knew, the Duke was doing this elaborate handshake and talking about Christmas with one of the bouncers. I don’t know why it surprised me. He had connections everywhere. But I hadn’t been expecting this one. I stood with my hands stuffed in my pockets, not joining the conversation, but staying close so I wouldn’t get left outside when the Duke finished.

  I almost jumped out of my skin when two cold hands covered my eyes. “Guess who?”

  I’d recognize that voice anywhere. Leaning back on my heels, my head pressed against her, I answered. “Taylor Swift? No, not twangy enough. I know. Jennifer Lawrence.”

  Kelsey pulled her hands away and smacked the back of my head. “Keep dreaming.” She acted annoyed as she wiggled her way in line next to me, but caved when I gave her my goofiest grin. “You’re pathetic. You know that, right?”

  “Absolutely.” I grinned. Grabbing her hand, I pulled her toward me, wrapping my arms around her. I bent forward and whispered into her ear. “But you missed me, didn’t you?”

  “Ew.” Peyton nudged me, and I made room for her. She wiggled her finger, pointing it at Kelsey and me. “I didn’t know you were into slumming. How long has this been going on?”

  “Couple of years now.” As Kelsey rubbed her stomach, she said, “I’m carrying his child. It’s half-vampire.”

  Peyton rolled her eyes. “Fine. Don’t tell me anything.”

  “Who’s a vampire?” Garrett walked up swinging his keys. He made eye contact with a girl a few people back in line, and nodded, giving her a don’t-you-want-me-baby look that I’d caught him practicing more than once. It was shaping up to be quite the night.

  The Duke turned to us. “Ready?” And with that, the bouncer held the door open and we all walked inside.

  The music was loud, some kind of techno crap that sounded terrible in such a large, open space. A cluster of people danced in the middle of the room, but almost everyone there was standing in groups, drinks in hand. I scanned the room for Abby, but it was almost impossible to identify anyone in that crowd.

  The Duke disappeared, mumbling something about needing to find someone, as the rest of us stood off to the side, taking in the scene. It was too loud to talk, so after a few attempts we gave up. “I’m going to get a drink,” Garrett shouted, but I followed his line of sight and saw the girl from outside. He wouldn’t be back.

  Peyton must have seen her, too, because she grabbed Kelsey’s arm. “Swear you won’t ditch me.”

  “I swear.” Kelsey looked at me and shrugged.

  I couldn’t talk to Kelsey with Peyton there and I looked like some kind of stalker standing watching everyone dance. “You guys want anything to drink?” I asked.

  “Yes!” Peyton said.

  “Water,” Kelsey said.

  I nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

  Pushing through the crowd, I made my way to the bar in the back. I couldn’t see Abby or the Duke anywhere. There were a couple of guys who looked vaguely like Blake’s friends, but I couldn’t be sure. This kind of party wasn’t my thing, but it was New Year’s Eve, and I was here with my friends—with Kelsey—so I tried to swallow down the feeling that I didn’t belong.

  When it was finally my turn, I looked at the rows of bottles lined against the back wall. The bartender, who could’ve been the stunt double for the Incredible Hulk, glared at me, waiting. I didn’t even try to order anything alcoholic. With three bottles of water, which cost me over twenty bucks, I left and pushed my way back through the crowd.

  A big, sweaty tool bumped into me, causing me to almost lose my balance. The guy turned toward me swaying a little, and of course, the world made sense again—Blake. “McKaaaay,” he slurred. “Watch where you’re going. You made me spill my beer.”

  “Tanner?” Abby stepped around him, brushing her shoulder where Captain Chivalry had dumped his beer on her. “What are you doing here?”

  I shrugged. “New Year’s Eve, right?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “By your
self?”

  I held up the three water bottles. “Yeah. I’m really thirsty.”

  Abby didn’t press for more. Blake had his arm around her but was talking to some guy, and she actually looked relieved to see me.

  “How long have you been here?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Long enough to get sick of this techno crap. It all sounds like the same song.”

  “Yeah. Bet you’d kill for some Green Day right now.”

  She smiled and we both broke into the chorus of “Brain Stew.” Blake gave us an annoyed look. We both started laughing.

  “You never could do the dance right,” she said, banging her head up and down, as Blake’s arm fell off her shoulder. He wouldn’t look at her.

  “’Cause I didn’t practice in front of the mirror all the time,” I said. “You looked more like Billie Joe Armstrong than I did anyway.”

  Abby shook her head, and I recognized the look on her face: the one she got when she didn’t have a comeback and was going to punch me. Before she could, though, her face froze, eyes locked on something over my shoulder. I turned and saw the Duke coming out of a room on the other side of the club.

  He spotted her, too, and smiled, before he took in Blake standing next to her. For a moment he hesitated. It was so unlike him—the guy who owned every room he stood in, even if it was filled with hundreds of sweaty bodies. Then, in a second, he’d made a decision, and started across the room toward us.

  “Hey,” I said.

  He stopped next to me, but he only had eyes for Abby. “Happy New Year.”

  She hesitated, glancing over at Blake before she responded, her voice low. Neither of us heard her over the screeching music.

  The Duke leaned in, his head touching hers, and I had no idea what either of them said. Blake looked over, and then it was as if everything happened in slow motion:

  Abby was smiling, her face flushed.

  Blake’s alcohol-addled brain switched into gear as he figured out who Abby was talking to.

  The Duke reached over, touching her arm gently.

  Blake lost it.

  Blake shoved the Duke, but because the room was so packed, the crowd behind him kept him upright. I dropped the water bottles, grabbing the Duke’s arm until he regained his balance. Abby wedged herself between them. Blake was swearing, calling the Duke every foul word I’d ever heard, while a crowd gathered around us.

  The Duke held his hands up in surrender. “Listen, mate. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His voice had a hard edge to it.

  Abby was pulling on Blake’s arm then. “You’re drunk. Calm down. Let’s go outside and get some air.”

  He shook his head. “No. I’m not leaving. He is.”

  I looked over at the Duke, curious to see what he wanted to do. He wouldn’t look at me, refusing to break eye contact with Blake. Abby’s eyes were pleading for me to do something.

  And even though Blake had at least a hundred pounds on me, I opened my big mouth. “Dude, it’s okay. I was standing right here. Nothing happened.”

  He glared at me. “Stay out of this. You don’t know anything.”

  “Neither do you,” the Duke said, his voice firm, barely louder than the music.

  Blake’s face got even redder. “Stay away from her. This guy is trouble, Abby. I saw him at USC last week when I was meeting with their scouts. He was talking to Joseph Rawls the day before he dropped the game-winning pass. I know you had something to do with that. And then just now, you walk out of the back room, talking to Jorge? I know what kind of shit goes down back there. You think just because you’ve got a fancy house you can do whatever you want? Have whatever you want? Well not Abby. She’s not interested. Stay away from her, and stay away from me.”

  I rolled my eyes and before the Duke could respond, I’d stepped closer to Blake. “The Duke was on the other side of the Atlantic last week. In England. Quit being so paranoid.”

  Blake looked at me. I thought he was going to punch me in the face. Abby was trying to pull him away, but the Duke spoke up first. “Come on, Tanner. Let’s get out of here.”

  I bent down and picked up my water bottles, then followed him through the gap in the crowd that opened before us.

  “I know what I saw. You were there,” Blake shouted at our backs.

  On the other side of the room, Kelsey and Peyton were waiting, confusion and concern all over their faces. I handed each of them a water bottle. “This party sucks. Let’s go somewhere else.”

  Peyton opened her mouth, but quickly shut it when I glared at her. “Should I text Garrett?” she asked.

  “Sure. Tell him to meet us outside.”

  We reached the door and I held it open for Kelsey and Peyton, but before the Duke could follow them out, I grabbed his arm. “What was that?”

  “Alcohol and roid rage,” he said, pulling away and walking into the street.

  I let the door slam behind me. I still felt the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Part of me was glad that this had happened. Maybe Abby and the Duke would realize what Blake was capable of. Maybe they’d give up whatever this thing they had was. Or, at the very least, maybe they’d be more careful.

  But just as some instinct had propelled me to jump into that fight tonight, I knew, deep in my gut, that wasn’t going to happen.

  We ended up at the beach.

  Kelsey and Peyton were already there when we drove up; their stop for snacks had obviously been quicker than our hunt for firewood. When the only two stores open on New Year’s Eve didn’t have any, we’d gotten desperate. The Duke had directed me to an older neighborhood where smoke had been rising from a couple chimneys. I kept the car running while he climbed a fence. When a dog started barking and a light came on, I was sure we’d both end up in jail, but next thing I knew, he was running toward the truck, carrying an armful of wood. I peeled out of the neighborhood, praying they didn’t get my license plate.

  The girls weren’t impressed with our story. They were even less impressed with our caveman grunting as we built the fire, but once it was going and we were enjoying our feast of Cokes and Chips Ahoy!, Kelsey snuggled in next to me, resting her head on my shoulder.

  Garrett drove up, his SUV crammed with people, radio blaring. He parked with his headlights shining right in our faces. Peyton threw her half empty can at his car. It bounced off the fender, spraying Coke on the window.

  “Hey!” Garrett yelled.

  “Turn off your headlights, you imbecile!” Peyton shouted back.

  Garrett shut off the engine, but it was a good three minutes before his headlights went dark. Just enough time for everyone to pile out of his SUV and join us around the fire. Garrett tried introducing us to everyone, but aside from the girl he’d been flirting with at the club, he didn’t get anyone’s names right. It didn’t matter.

  Someone had a speaker that connected to a phone, and suddenly we had music. Garrett had also stopped for food, and we passed around his chips and candy and beef jerky. The night was cool but not too windy and, occasionally, the moon even broke through the clouds. It was about as far as we could get from the parties at the Duke’s house, but out here with my friends sitting on the cold sand, it felt just about perfect.

  When most of the food was gone, Garrett jumped up. “Wait! I haven’t even shown you the best part!”

  He ran back to his SUV and returned with a large paper sack, grinning like a cartoon character. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

  Nobody spoke. Peyton sat up. Clapping her hands like a little girl, she shrieked, “Gee, Daddy, is it a pony?”

  Garrett did his best imitation of a buzzer. It sounded more like a dying goose. “Next.”

  “The collected works of Shakespeare?” I said.

  More tortured goose sounds. “Wrong. One more guess.”

  We waited, and I could tell Garrett was dying to tell us. Finally, the Duke spoke. “Candyland. Travel-sized, of course.”

  Garrett reached inside the bag. “Fireworks!�
� He held out a Roman candle.

  I had a vision of him getting it a little too close to the fire and sending us all to the ER with second and third degree burns. “Dude!” I said. “Step away from the flames.”

  As he did, the rest of us jumped to our feet to check out his stash. Kelsey grabbed the box of sparklers. “I love these!” she said. “Where’s the lighter?”

  I reached into my pocket and gave her the one I’d used to start the fire. While she and Peyton tried to light sparklers, Garrett showed off his prize.

  “Check this out.” He held up a large blue canister. “The Atom Splitter. This thing is insane.”

  “No way,” I said. “Where’d you get these? These are only legal in places like Wyoming.”

  Garrett grinned. “Close. I picked these up last week, in Idaho. Didn’t spend the whole time skiing.”

  The Duke slapped Garrett on the back. “You’re brilliant. Now let’s get these in the air!”

  We may have been a bunch of pyros, but we weren’t idiots, so we decided that it would be safest to set them off closer to the water.

  “My turn!” Peyton yelled. She and Kelsey dug through the bag and Peyton held up the only pink canister in there.

  “Why does ours have to be pink?” Kelsey asked. “Let’s do this one. Defcon 5. Much cooler.”

  Peyton shook her head.

  “Fine,” Kelsey said. “You light that thing, I’ll light mine. We’ll see whose is better.”

  We only had one punk, so we had to light them one at a time. Peyton lit hers and ran away, squealing all the way up the embankment. Pink sparks shot into the night, leaving a trail of sparks that looked like a drooping flower. We oohed and aahed. When it was done, Peyton jumped up and down, clapping.

  Kelsey shook her head. “Okay. That was pretty. But this will blow your mind.”

  She set her firework on the sand, knelt down, and lit the fuse. For a second, she stayed there, crouched down in front of it, and I was afraid that it might blow up in her face. Then, when it started to glow, she ran, dropping down next to me as the first explosion went off.

  Each burst sent a rocket into the air exploding in orange and white and yellow, like comets racing across the sky. Together, they made a fan-shape before burning out and disappearing into the night. When the last one had fallen, Kelsey stood and brushed sand from her hands. “Was I right?”