by Lauren Rowe
Mom quickly replies: “I tried to lure Keaney with food all last week, but he didn’t answer any of my calls! Oh, Kitty and Josh, I forgot to tell you I’ve got bunco tomorrow night, so Grampa Tom Tom is gonna babysit Gracie all by himself.” Microphone emoji.
“OMG! Someone delete the microphone emoji off Mom’s phone!” Kat writes. “Mom, you’re officially in microphone-emoji lockdown. Dad, you sure you can handle Little G by yourself? I can get a sitter if you’d rather. Gracie’s been doing this horrible cranky thing at bedtime lately. I think she’s teething.”
“Oh, I’ll be fine,” Dad writes. “I handled you as a baby, didn’t I, and she can’t be any crankier than you were. Hey, now that I think about it, you’re still pretty damned cranky. Are you teething, Kitty?” Microphone emoji.
“Hardy har, Dad,” Kat writes. Cat emoji. Heart emoji.
“Hey, I’ll help babysit Gracie,” Colby pipes in. “I could use some Little G time. Nom nom nom. Tell her she’d better keep her thighs hidden or they’re getting chomped with some BBQ sauce.”
“Awesome!! Thanks, gentlemen,” Kat writes. “Wow, my baby’s such a lucky girl.” Heart emoji. Four-leaf clover. “See you handsome guys tomorrow at 6ish? May God be with you both!”
“I’m so jealous!” I write. “Save me a couple big bites of Little G’s left thigh for next time, dudes. Hey, Mom, TEXT me about food and I promise I’ll come running. And don’t listen to Pops, btw. I TOTALLY respond to guilt (as long as there’s food involved, preferably lasagna or chili). Love to all except the FUCKERS going to Muse without me. (Sorry, Momma Lou, no other word would do.) Gotta go be handsome and happy all the livelong day now, folks. Peace out.” Heart emoji.
I go back to the one-on-one thread with Ryan. “Little G looks so much like Jizz, it’s insanity-sauce,” I write.
“I know,” Ryan writes. “For Lambo’s sake, I hope that kid got her mommy’s looks and her daddy’s personality, or else he’s FUCKED.”
I laugh out loud. “Totesburgers,” I write. I look up from my phone, suddenly wondering what the hell’s taking Maddy so damned long. How long can it possibly take for a girl to buy some candy? “Hey, I gotta go,” I write to Ryan. “Don’t worry about a thang, sugar nuts. Everything’s good on my end.”
“Cool. Stay good, Peenie Baby.”
“Will do. I love u da most, Cap’n. Oh, bee tee dubs, I already outed u as the voice on the phone. Maddy said ur way more charming than me, so she already knew it wasn’t me.”
“Bwahahahaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!” Ryan writes. He attaches a microphone emoji followed by a middle finger.
A new series of texts pops up in the group chat, all of them talking about how cute Gracie is, but I don’t got time to participate in a family lovefest, son—I got shit to do—so I mute all notifications. But just as I’m about to shove my phone in my pocket, I check the one-on-one thread with Daxy one last time, just in case. And, good thing I did, because he’s replied to my earlier text.
“I owe you, Peen! You da best!” Dax writes. “P.S. I kinda like the blue hair, actually. You know what a gigantic boner I’ve always had for Marge Simpson.”
“Hey, dumbshit, u just indirectly said you’ve got a boner for ur big brother,” I write. “We all know I’m a giver, but surely that crosses a line. Hey, no worries on the road trip. It’s turning out to be kinda fun. Maddy’s cool.”
“Awwwwwwww, SHIT! DO NOT FUCK THIS GIRL, PEENIE!” Dax writes.
I scoff. Why does everyone feel the need to say that to me? “I’m not gonna fuck her!” I write. “Can’t I think a chick’s cool without wanting to bang her?”
“NO, YOU CANNOT.”
“U can stop with the all-caps shit, dude. I’m not gonna fuck Maddy Milliken.”
“PROMISE ME.”
“I promise. Jazeebabeebus.”
“Thx. Be good.”
“Love u da most, Rock Star.”
“Back at u, Peen Star.”
I stuff my phone in my pocket and look up, peering toward the minimart. Seriously, how long does it take a girl to buy some fucking candy?
All of a sudden, a tidal wave of anxiety crashes into me.
Shit.
I had one job on this motherfucking road trip: protect Maddy Milliken from harm, big or small, and deliver her safely to her big sister in L.A. Fuck.
I leap out of the car and sprint toward the minimart at the far end of the gas station, muttering “fuck, fuck, fuck” under my breath as I go.
Chapter 16
Keane
As I swing open the glass door of the minimart, I hear the distinctive sound of Maddy giggling, and when I take two steps into the store, there she is—the giggler herself—standing in one of the far aisles, her back to me, talking to (and giggling with) some dude. And by the full smile on the dude’s face and the sparkle in his eyes, it seems his conversation with Maddy is going extremely well.
“That’s so cool,” the guy says, chuckling. “Me, too.”
“Really?” Maddy says, her back still to me. “That’s hilarious. I never thought anyone would agree with me on that.”
“I guess we’re both just a little bit nuts, huh?”
They both laugh.
I walk slowly toward them in the next aisle over, pretending to look at bottles of motor oil while sizing up the dude. Not a bad-looking guy. He looks to be about my age, maybe a little bit older. Football physique. Probs played in high school would be my guess. O-line, if I had to assign him a position. Light brown hair. Big hands. Broad shoulders. Baby face. I know his type. Jock. Mr. Personality. Maybe even a Big Man on Campus. Pretends to be sweet and sensitive with the ladies when in reality he’s nothing but a brazen hunter. Motherfucker.
“Did your brother say if he’s ever taken a class up at North Campus?” Maddy asks.
Now that I’m standing a few feet behind Maddy, peering at her and Baby Face from the next aisle over, I notice they’re having their giggle-filled conversation alongside the candy rack—and right in front of a big ol’ box of Milk Duds.
I pick up a rearview-mirror car freshener and pretend to look at it with deep interest.
“Is North Campus where most of your classes will be?” the guy asks.
“Yeah, that’s where all the artsy stuff is—theatre, film, television, dance. The science classes are way down in South Campus. I guess they don’t want the left- and right-brainers to mingle—probably worried we’d riot. Or maybe just literally bore each other to death.”
Baby Face laughs like Maddy’s just said something insanely hilarious and I roll my eyes. What a kiss-ass. Maddy’s funny, sure, and super clever and smart, but that wasn’t even close to one of her best zingers. At best, that was hilare-y-ish. At any rate, it certainly wasn’t deserving of the gigantic laugh this guy threw at it.
“My brother gave me a tour of campus once and I’m pretty sure we went through North Campus,” Baby Face says. “Is that where the sculpture garden is?”
“Yeah. That’s it.”
“Oh, that place was really cool.”
I’m no longer even pretending to look at the car freshener in my hands.
“Yeah, I love it,” Maddy says effusively. “I can totally picture myself grabbing a coffee, sitting on a bench in the sculpture garden, and working on my laptop in the California sunshine. I’m so excited.”
“Totally. I’d live in that sculpture garden if I went to school there.” The guy’s gaze shifts from Maddy straight to my hair and then lands on my eyes. “You’re gonna love the weather...” he begins, his eyes locked with mine, but he doesn’t continue.
Maddy turns to follow the guy’s line of sight and her face lights up. “Keane!” she blurts. She looks at her watch. “Oh my gosh. I had no idea I’d kept you waiting so long. I’m so sorry—I just lost track of time. This is Brian. Brian, this is Keane.”
Brian lifts his large hand in a half-hearted wave. “Hey.”
“I’m giving Keane a ride to L.A. to visit his brother.”
The
dude’s face becomes visibly friendlier toward me. “Oh, hey. Great to meet you, man.” I feel his eyes flicker over my body, sizing me up.
I don’t mean to do it, but I flex my arm muscles under his gaze.
“Brian’s brother goes to UCLA, majoring in mechanical engineering,” Maddy says. “What are the odds, right? We were both looking at the candy and Brian asked me my favorite and within three seconds, we’d already put it together that I’m driving to UCLA and his brother goes there. He was just telling me a whole bunch of stuff about campus and Westwood—places to eat, you know.”
“Cool,” I say, my eyes not leaving Brian’s.
Maddy looks at Brian. “Well, that, and Brian was trying to convince me he’s the world’s biggest authority on candy bars.”
Baby Face smiles at her. “I am.”
“What-ever.” She puts up her hand like she’s so done with him and they both laugh.
I feel my jaw tighten and my arm muscles tense again.
“I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting,” Maddy says to me.
“No problem.”
“So, hey,” the dude says. “I know you’ve got a long drive ahead of you. I’ll let you two get back on the road. Drive safe, okay? It was great talking to you.”
“Oh my gosh, it was so nice to meet you, Brian. Thanks for all the info.”
Baby Face flashes what he undoubtedly thinks is a panty-melting smile. “My pleasure, Maddy.”
Whoa, whoa, whoa! Did this douche just try to subliminally infiltrate the pleasure-center in Maddy Milliken’s brain—and right in front of me? Motherfucker!
Baby Face goes in for a brief hug and, to my surprise, Maddy seems more than happy to return his gesture.
The second they break apart, the dude’s eyes flicker over to me again. “So you two are just driving together or... ?”
“Yeah, we just met today,” Maddy says breezily. “Keane got emotionally blackmailed into making the drive with me, poor thing.” She laughs. “My big sister was worried about me making the drive all by myself so Keane’s brother, who lives across the hall from my sister, inexplicably offered Keane up as my personal bodyguard.” Maddy rolls her eyes and grins at me. “Keane’s racking up big-time karma points for sure.”
I try to return Maddy’s grin, but my mouth feels tight.
“Cool,” Brian says. “So, hey, I visit my brother all the time. We should exchange numbers so we can grab a coffee or drink next time I’m down there.”
“Or, hey, maybe a Tommy-burger, right?” Maddy chirps, pulling out her phone.
“Absolutely. You’ll see. They’re an institution.”
“I can’t wait. What’s your last name?” Maddy asks, her fingers poised over her phone.
As they exchange information, I make my way to the end of my aisle and loop into theirs, not taking my eyes off Baby Face the whole time. Shit. This dude’s hunting Maddy so hard, it’s making my blood boil. Jesus, he’s going full-throttle rifle on Maddy’s ass right now, completely foregoing his crossbow altogether.
When I reach the two of them in the middle of their aisle, I shuffle past the dude and stand next to Maddy, shoulder to shoulder, and then, on a sudden impulse, put my arm around her shoulders and squeeze her tight, making her wobble in place at the unexpected jolt to her balance. “Hey, sis,” I say, squeezing her like a rag doll. “You totally fell down on your candy-acquiring duties.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” She subtly wiggles out of my grasp. “Brian and I got into this hilarious argument about the best candy bar of all-time, and—”
“And I’m totally right,” Brian says, cutting her off, and they both chuckle at some inside joke.
“No, I’m totally right,” Maddy corrects.
Brian smiles at her. “I’ll actually be down in L.A. in a month. How ’bout I call you then?”
“Great.”
“Nice to meet you, man,” Brian says, looking at me. He nods but doesn’t put out his hand.
I nod back.
Brian strolls away, buys a Snickers bar and a can of Red Bull, and leaves with a little wave to Maddy.
The minute he’s out the door, Maddy takes a giant step away from me, her face etched with annoyance. “What was that?” she asks.
“What?”
“That weird thing you just did?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Maddy puts on an exaggerated scowl, like she’s Hulk Hogan eying an opponent. “’Hey, Brian,’” she says in a low voice, clearly intending to imitate me but sounding more like Arnold Schwarzenegger imitating Maddy imitating me. “’I’m Maddy Milliken’s bodyguard and I’m going to beat you the hell up now,’” she adds.
“What are you talking about?” I say, chuckling.
Maddy pauses, assessing me, and finally shrugs. “Nothing. I guess I imagined it.”
“Imaged what?”
“Your weird... I dunno... vibe.”
“Oh, well, yeah. I was worried about you.”
“Worried about me? I was standing in a minimart, buying candy. Pretty low-risk activity, I’d say.”
“Uh, you absolutely were not standing in a minimart, buying candy—you totally fell down on that job, dude. You were standing in a minimart, getting picked up by a douche. And second of all—”
“What?”
Shit. What the fuck am I doing? I’ve got to stop this shit right now. “Don’t get riled up, baby doll,” I say in my most soothing voice. “All I’m saying is you took so damned long in here, I started thinking maybe the store was getting robbed or you’d fallen into the toilet or something.”
Maddy twists her mouth. “Brian didn’t seem the least bit douchey to me.”
I shrug.
“What gave you the impression he’s a douche?”
“Just a figure of speech. So are you gonna do the job I hired you to do or not?” I motion to the candy rack. “‘Cause based on your performance thus far, you’re totally fired.”
“And I wasn’t getting ‘picked up,’” Maddy says, her tone full of indignation. “Brian’s brother goes to UCLA. Can’t I talk to a helpful, nice guy without it being some sort of a sleazy pick-up?”
“Sure you can. However, in this instance, you were talking to a helpful, nice guy who was picking you up so he can bone the living fuck outta ya.”
“Keane.” Maddy’s cheeks burst with color. “Don’t say that. Oh my god. You’re insane. Brian was just being helpful, that’s all.”
“Yeah, so he can bone the living fuck outta ya.”
“Stop saying that. Please. It’s offensive and absolutely not true. This topic of conversation is officially over.” She makes a weird hand gesture like she’s a magician making me disappear and then turns her attention to the candy rack, her cheeks on fire. “I don’t see Abba Zaba bars. Do you?”
“Maddy, that dude couldn’t have been any clearer about his intentions. I mean, come on, you’re funny but you’re not that funny.”
Maddy’s face falls. “What do you mean?”
“No, I mean, you’re funny. Really funny. I just meant he was laying it on awfully thick, that’s all. Going a bit overboard with the yucks.”
Maddy clenches her jaw and turns toward the candy rack again. “Wow, you sure know how to make a girl feel fantastic.” She purses her lips. “Okay, I don’t see Junior Mints, either.” Her voice is tight. “I guess Milk Duds will have to work extra hard for us ’til we can get to a supermarket.” She grabs a box of Milk Duds off the shelf.
“You seriously don’t think that guy was interested in bonin’ the fuck outta ya?”
“Would you stop saying that? Please, Keane. It’s gross.”
“What’s gross? Those particular words or the act of someone bonin’ the fuck outta ya?”
“Both.”
“Getting boned is gross? Oh, shit, no wonder you’ve been going steady with Jesus lately.”
“Keane! Stop it. That’s not what I meant. Sex isn’t gross to me. Not at all. I meant th
e idea of sex with Brian is gross because I wasn’t attracted to him in that way and I need to feel both an emotional and physical connection to a guy to even think about letting him ‘bone the fuck outta me.’” She makes a weird face.
“First time you’ve ever said those words in your entire life, huh?”
“And, regardless, Brian definitely wasn’t attracted to me—he was just being helpful and nice—so whether he wanted to ‘bone the fuck outta me’ or not is a moot point, anyway.” She makes that same weird face again.
“It was no easier saying it the second time around, was it?”
She scowls at me.
“Okay, now I totally understand the source of your wicked dry spell, honey muffin. You’re deaf, dumb and blind when it comes to reading a guy’s signals.”
“No, I’m not. I have zero trouble reading a guy’s signals—and in this instance, the signal Brian was sending me loud and cuh-lear was ‘fuh-riend zone.’”
“No way. That dude was sending you a ‘buh-hone zone’ signal all the way to Pompei, Beyoncé.”
“No freakin’ way to Bombay, Pelé.”
I chuckle. “So why’d you give him your number, then?”
“Because I know all of two people in L.A.—my sister and her boyfriend, Henn—and I’m probably gonna be, you know, a little lonely at school until I can make some friends. At least this way, I’ll have some social interaction to look forward to in a few weeks, just in case I haven’t made any friends by then.”
“Well, of course, you’ll have friends in a whole month, Mad Dog. Oh my God, you’ll have more friends than you could shake a stick at.”
Maddy’s eyes flicker with obvious anxiety. “Not necessarily,” she says softly. “Not everyone’s like you, Keane.”
My chest suddenly feels tight. “Hey, don’t sell yourself short, sweetheart,” I say. I take a step toward her and push a stray hair away from her pretty face. “Trust me, your dance card’s gonna be completely filled within a week, I guarantee it.” I look into Maddy’s brown eyes for a beat, and then let my gaze take in the entirety of her pretty face. Wow, I hadn’t noticed until just now how beautiful Maddy’s lips are.
Oh, fuck.