by Mj Fields
“So, nothing has been added since—”
“You’re talking Tobias here. If he said he hasn’t, he hasn’t.”
She frowns. “He said he wouldn’t hurt your face in that fight if Truth didn’t agree to make nice with me, and he did.”
“Yeah, well, no one’s perfect when it comes to feelings and shit. But they’ve worked it out.”
“Your parents must not think too highly of—”
“Bullshit, my dad’s ass-chewing on the balcony prompted the text, which led right here with me sitting on the fucking floor, which is as close to me getting on my knees as you’re gonna get, trying to make sure we do whatever this is right for the next year, because”—I sigh and set the album on the bed—“I know damn well we can do better than what we’ve been doing.”
“What will it take for you to give me the loyalty you seem to demand?”
I shrug. “Same thing it will take to get back the trust I lost from you, I suppose.”
“And how do we do that?”
“For me, it’s gonna have to be putting friendship, trust, and truth ahead of the fact that I’m still hanging onto the thirteen-year-old boy mentality that I licked it first, so it’s mine.”
She palms her face as she shakes her head.
“I’m being honest here, Queenie.”
She sighs, uncovering her face and attempting not to laugh in mine, I’m sure, but fuck it.
“You can also sleep easy knowing that Quinn knows the drill, and you come first.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Not in the literal sense.”
“Well, I’d freaking hope not. She’s ancient.”
“She was also put on warning that she’s not to even look at you until you get over being jealous without reason.”
“So, you’ve painted me a green monster with her?”
“Painted you?” I smirk, and she throws the blanket in my face.
“Gonna need some promises from you, too, Queenie.”
She nods once.
“We’re doing this like you said. Doesn’t have to end ugly, because I don’t want that anymore than you do.” I set the album on the bed. “Who the fuck knows, maybe the next year can erase the past so that, in twenty years”—I stand up then sit on the edge of my bed and flip open the album—“we can both remember our first loves the way first loves should be remembered.” I flip a page. “A love that helped us both learn what we needed in a partner.” I flip a page. “And how to dream.” I flip another. “How to take it back to the sun and sand, where nothing else meant anything except those innocent, untainted memories.” I flip the next and tap the picture. “This is how I want to remember my first love, not what I got an eyeful of. And I’d rather you not remember yours as an asshole who threatened to ruin your actual ass.”
She scoops up the book and holds it closer to her face. “Is that—”
“Us.”
She shakes her head and fumbles through questions that I would wonder, too, if I were her. “How? Who? Why—”
“How? I’m guessing a high-powered lens. Who? Tara Steel. Why? Guessing she was wondering where I’d take off to and made it her business to find out.”
She gasps and looks at me. “Are there”—she pauses and swallows hard— “more?”
A laugh bursts out of me, and I shake my head. “God, I hope not. Jesus, if she had a night vision camera or, worse, a video recording device, she’d have been in a fucking nut house. We were some fucked-up kids.”
“We were very communicative and—”
“I was there, remember?”
“Asking the most embarrassing questions?” She laughs.
“How was it embarrassing to ask what something felt like, good or bad?”
She smiles down at the picture. “Hard to answer when you’ve never felt anything like it before.”
She looks up and laughs. “Remember just the tip?”
“Fuck.” I flop back and cover my face with my blanket. “You did not like that at all.”
She pulls the blanket off my face. “If I remember correctly, I’m the one who asked for it.”
“Didn’t make you like it anymore.”
“Didn’t make me want it any less.”
“True story.” I smile, looking at the ceiling.
“The next day, you said we needed lubrication and rubbers. You were gonna steal some.”
“Epic fail.”
She laughs, sighs, and lies back. “And Jesus, did you make up for every pain with just a kiss and words I swore you got from a movie.”
“Nah, didn’t need movies, just said what I was feeling.” I roll to my side and look at her. “And, Queenie, let’s be honest, it wasn’t so much the kiss as it was the tongue.”
“Still the—” She stops and shakes her head.
“Sweetest thing I ever tasted?” I laugh. “What a fucking tool I was.”
“Don’t talk about my first love like that,” she says sadly. “He showed me everything I wished—hell, still wish—love was.”
When I hear whispers outside the door, I look at her, and her eyes widen.
“Might as well rip the fucking Band-Aid off,” I whisper before calling out, “Mom, let’s get the awkward part of this over now so we can go on about our lives.”
When she doesn’t answer, Queenie whispers, “Oh, God, she hates me.”
“Mom, you got Queenie thinking you hate her. Come in here and make it right before she leaves and doesn’t come back.”
The door pushes open, but it’s not Mom’s head that pops in.
“Oh my God.” Gabrielle pops off the bed. “I am so sorry misses—Momma … I mean, Misses Momma Joe.”
“Have a seat, Gabrielle.” Momma Joe laughs.
“I feel like I’m going to piss myself. Oh, Jesus, I’m so sorr—”
“Go.” Momma Joe laughs as she points. “Bathroom’s right there.”
Gabrielle runs to the bathroom, and Momma Joe looks out of my room. “Tara, you might as well come in here, too.”
I cover my face with my blanket and grumble, “This is so not cool.”
“Sorry, Justice. We were looking for extra towels and … well …”
“Neither one of you could help yourself, I know,” I grumble.
Momma Joe starts laughing, and I toss the blanket to the side to see her arm around Mom, who’s covering her face but unable to hide the fact that it’s bright red.
“You two need to get it together. There’s an actual teenage girl behind that door.”
“Are you asking me to act my age, Justice Steel?”
“With all due respect, Momma Joe—”
“Save it. I’ll never act my age, but I will say I do think I understand the unreadable and ever elusive Gabrielle now.” She walks over and knocks on the door. “I’m not a scary woman, Gabrielle.”
“Mom?” I whisper, hoping she’ll intervene. Then I realize how fucking stupid it is to think she will, and not that me doing so would mean shit.
The door opens, and Gabrielle steps out and sighs.
“Queenie, you’re fine.” I stand up and walk over, leaving my back to my bedroom door.
“I know that. Doesn’t make me any less embarrassed.”
“Hey.” Truth’s voice comes from the game room just down the hall from our rooms.
“Momma Joe”—Kiki laughs— “Dad got wet. We need more towels.”
“Are they hiding from us?” Tris huffs from behind her.
I don’t have to look back; all I have to see is the way Gabrielle’s eyes mimic that of a deer in the headlights to know they’re no longer in the game room, they’re right outside my door.
“What is going on in here?” Tris cackles.
Momma Joe kisses me on the cheek. “Truth has a way of finding itself in this family, no matter how hard we try to hide it.”
“Not that I don’t love you, Justice, but I wish Dad was the one who busted you two during this make-up or make-out session for the simple reason that
I bet it would be you getting in trouble and not your girlfriend, which would have been my preference to him being a jerk to Tobias.”
“What’s this? Porn?” Tris asks, picking up the album.
“No, thankfully.” I laugh, and Gabrielle turns an even deeper shade of red.
“I should leave,” she whispers.
“Like hell you are.” I laugh. “This is going to be far worse for me than it is for you; trust me.”
“Not possible.”
“Oh, my dear.” Momma Joe wraps her arm around Gabrielle and pulls her away. “Watch and see.” She looks back at me and winks. “Tell the girls about the photos, Justice. Gabrielle and I are going to get something to eat and have a chat.”
I look at them all, Kiki and Truth being the ones who are going to flip shit the hardest since they dealt with Gabrielle’s wrath the most.
“Look at you all tattoo-free.” Brisa smiles.
“Oh my goodness, remember his sand castle obsession?” Kiki laughs.
“And that chubby little girl he always played with. The one who just—” Truth stops and looks at me. Eyes misting over immediately, she holds her hand to her heart as she walks toward me, lunges, and hugs me tightly as I stand here, feeling like a dick because I’m getting sucked into what she feels is what I feel twin thing.
“You can’t be pissed at me and definitely not at her.”
“Shut the hell up,” Tris says, grabbing the book and looking at it closer. “Shut. The hell. Up.”
“I’m going to apologize for keeping that shit to myself, but not because I think you all need to be up in my business, and this doesn’t change that. I’ll deal with it … We’ll deal with it how we see fit. Straight up, I’m sorry for not telling you when she was being …” I stop and shake my head.
“A bitch,” comes from outside my room.
“Get your bitchy ass back in here and tell me how you went from a little chub to a size two.” Kiki laughs. “Could use the tips on getting rid of this baby belly.”
Truth lets go of me as she looks up and smiles. “We’ll discuss this in great detail while we are in Italy. Until then, go get your girl.”
“They’re all irritating as fuck,” I grumble as I watch them all surround Queenie more so than they have for the last few weeks. It’s irritating because I can’t get close enough to her to finish our talk.
“I give it two weeks before she moves in here after we get back from Italy.” Patrick laughs.
“Not fucking happening. They may all fall ass over tea kettle in love, but they’re not us.”
“He said us.” Max laughs. “I’ll throw in a grand on one week.”
“I’m gonna go with it’s not happening. Have you seen her fucking house?” Amias says.
“It’s missing one thing.” Patrick throws his arm around my shoulders. “Big sexy doesn’t live there.”
I shrug his arm off. “Cut the shit. I’m still going with high school and college aren’t for love, and you know that.”
“You’re insane. That ass is fucking posh,” Max groans.
“Max, I will not hesitate to throw you off this balcony.”
“We leave tomorrow. You better pluck her out of the hen house and lay pipe two weeks’ deep, man.” Patrick winks.
Not that it’s their business, but I happen to have plans for tonight, and it doesn’t include laying pipe.
Palms sweating, I rub them on my shorts as I watch as Gabrielle’s Meyers Manx dune buggy gets closer, but with Dad driving, and hot dogging, it’s taking a fuck of a lot longer than it should. Honestly, with a flight at six in the morning, the moments they’re wasting is pissing me off. However, when I hear her squeal and laugh, I decide to let it pass.
When they come barreling at me, I’m unmoving, and Dad better catch on to that really fucking quickly, too.
“Cyrus!” Mom yells, and then I watch as he throws his arm protectively in front of her and Gabrielle, who are sharing the seat next to him.
“We have a special delivery for a Justice Steel,” Dad calls out, and Gabrielle leans forward and sees me standing here.
Her eyes widen, and a smile brightens her face.
“That would be you, Gabs. This is your stop.” Dad winks. “Have fun, keep it clean, no fighting, don’t break curfew, no drinking, no—”
“How does any of that equate to having fun?” Gabrielle laughs as she steps out and onto the sand.
Mom laughs as she waves to me.
Gabrielle looks at me and then around me.
“You like what I got going on back there?”
“I do.” She smirks.
“Justice?”
“Mom?” I reply, eyes widening, hoping she gets that I’m not really loving the whole Gabrielle instantly being part of the family before we get through the next two weeks. Even then, it’s not like she doesn’t have plans for her future that don’t include me.
“Could you two turn around? The sun is in the perfect spot. Do that pinky thing.” She holds up her camera, and I rub my hand up and down my face, groaning.
“Come on; I’d like a do-over. My ass is much better than it was back then.” Gabrielle laughs.
“Says you.” I turn and look over, catching her rolling her eyes. “Didn’t mean it like that, and you know it.” I link my pinky with hers.
“Do I?” She looks up at me. “I mean, you’ve specifically said you like a thicker—”
“Thinking you’re breaking one of the rules right in front of my parents. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll tell you I loved your fucking curves, and maybe it’s because you looked more like a woman than a twelve-year-old girl. Maybe it was because I didn’t feel like I was going to break you in two. Maybe I loved how soft you felt.”
She smiles up at me, and right now, seeing her that way, and the fact the sun is setting, or fuck, I don’t know why, but I lean down and kiss her, really softly, too.
“Perfect!” Mom yells from behind us, and I groan again.
“Remember that we have a zoom lens and night vision goggles. Keep it clean.” Dad starts up the dune buggy again. “Hold tight, Birdie, we’re gonna go fuck shit up.”
I watch as Gabrielle takes in the castle.
“As you can see, I’m out of practice.”
She bites her lower lip, trying not to smile, and shakes her head.
“Don’t lie to me, Gabrielle. I’m not blind.”
“It’s the thought that counts.”
“I take that back. Lie to me.” I laugh as I walk over to the blanket and sit down.
“It’s the most exquisite castle I’ve ever seen,” she says, sitting across from me.
“Okay, let’s go back to the truth. You’re a horrible liar.” I laugh as I open the picnic basket, not a cooler but the real kind, and pull out a Capri Sun juice pouch.
She laughs as she takes it. “I’d never seen one of these before you.”
“You’d never seen a lot of things before meeting me.” I laugh.
She holds up the pouch. “Cheers to that.”
“And I’d never seen a lot of things before you, either.” I lean over and take the juice pouch that she’s trying and failing to stab a straw into.
“So,” I say as I watch her perfect, full lips wrap around the straw, “we made promises back then we had no business making. Before I take off tomorrow, I just wanted to make some I will definitely be keeping.”
“Please tell me one is that you won’t be trolling in Italy with your cousins on topless beaches.”
I shake my head. “Those fuckers keep anything to themselves?”
“I’m thinking that’s a gene that skipped you. Everyone else is an open book. But if you do go trolling on topless beaches and hook up with random locals or daughters of the nonrelated Steel crew—”
“What are you talking about?”
“Marcello’s sister.”
“Jesus, who the hell—” I stop. “Tris is gonna be yours to handle next school year.”
“Newsflash: s
he’s been mine to handle since your last game, and I will continue to do so because I like her. Although …” She laughs.
“Although what?” I ask, pulling out the charcuterie board and setting it between us.
“She said she no longer thinks I’m psychic. She knows the advice I gave her was based off of experience. She was disappointed in me, because it didn’t come from a divine place.”
“She’ll get over it.”
“As long as she doesn’t threaten to put a heel in my butt, so will I.”
I smile as she pops a grape in her mouth and do my best not to stare and focus on the objective.
“I want my vehicle at your place, and I want you to drive it.”
She looks at me oddly.
“People see you out and about alone, that could cause issues for you and, in turn, for me.”
“I don’t need—”
“Queenie, this is me asking, not telling. My parents okayed it. Your parents come to town, at least they won’t think you’re dating a thug based on my vehicle, before they actually meet me and see all my ink.”
A smile begins to rise on her lips.
“Don’t read into that.”
“Don’t read into the fact you bought a new vehicle so that my parents like you?”
“Let’s just file that under an unforeseen bonus.”
She nods, still looking amused as fuck.
“The Sound app, you’re back on it. Try not to stir shit up.”
“Have you looked at it lately?” She laughs.
“No. No plans on doing so unless there’s something that requires my attention.”
“And what would fall into that category?”
“I don’t know. Just handle it.”
“Okay, so how would you handle a picture of two kids on the beach, pinkies linked, with the sun setting? Oh, and a poll asking people to guess who they are?”
“Un-fucking-real,” I grumble.
She laughs. “Who else has access?”
“The people you suggested, one in which is gonna get an ass-chewing.”