by Henry, Max
“Not that she will,” Colt mutters.
“You don’t know that,” I snap. “People crave familiarity.”
“More than they should.” His gaze bores into me.
I can’t do this. “I need fresh air.”
“You were just outside,” Colt barks when I pass by.
“It wasn’t enough,” I retort, all but diving for the door.
It wasn’t near enough. My body is wound tighter than a violin string, ready to be plucked. I can’t sit in there and play the good friend when all I can think about is running my hands across her brother’s chest, feeling those divine lips against my own.
I’m the Judas in the room, acting as though I’m the Virgin Mary. Liable to burn in hell for it, too.
I’m gifted a short reprieve before the cadence of their raised voices drifts through the paper-thin walls. Footsteps hammer the hardwood floor, the chink of Lacey’s glass in the sink soon following.
The door swings open behind me.
“When were you going to tell me that you have a thing with my brother?” Lacey snaps.
I can’t even look at her. “We don’t have a thing.”
“Sure.” She stomps down the steps to move around in front of me. “And that’s why he damn near ripped my head off when I asked what the hell he’s done to you.”
I shift my gaze across to her stormy face, brow furrowed.
“He quite adamantly told me I should be asking you that question.” Lacey thrusts her arms across her chest, waiting on my answer.
“I don’t know what it is,” I cry, throwing my arms wide. “And I didn’t say anything because I’m trying to deny it’s real, okay?”
Her eyes widen, arms slowly dropping.
“I care about him,” I confess. “A lot.”
“Have you two …?”
“Slept together?” I supply.
She nods, somewhat subdued.
“No.” The answer annoys me equally as much as I’m pleased it’ll set her at ease.
Lacey turns away, pacing a few steps toward the beautiful tree at the end of the driveway that’s midway through losing its pink blossoms. The tiny petals litter the ground like snow. I never noticed it until now, too caught up in what happened between Colt and me.
The contrast of the soft colour is beautiful.
Lacey continues to stand far enough away that I’d have to raise my voice to be heard, but not so far that she’s effectively ended our conversation. I wait. In the mild afternoon sun, I wait.
Whatever I need to say next hinges on her initial judgement of the situation.
She won’t give me a thing, not a single clue, staying mute.
With a huff, I spin and stride inside the house to find Colt. He’s lounged in his father’s armchair, slumped against the worn upholstery with his legs slung wide. What disturbs me most is the vacant stare, fixed on nothing of importance opposite him.
“Is she mad?” he asks.
I shrug, even though he won’t look at where I stand in the doorway. “She won’t talk to me.”
He squints one eye softly. “Awkward.”
What’s awkward, is standing in the middle of a dispute between siblings, unable to offer solid advice to either one. I have no idea what Lacey needs to do to stop this petty dispute. And I have no idea what Colt needs to do to feel vindicated and satisfied.
I don’t even know what I have to do to feel I have a point to being here. Why on earth am I so invested in this?
“I should go home,” I voice, frowning at the floor before me.
“And how do you intend to do that?” Colt scathes, moving in his seat. “It’s a long way to walk.”
“I’ll figure it out.” Uber? A cab? Surely there’s something available to me.
He sighs, elbows on his knees and hands slung between his legs. “Stop running away from this.” His words are but a whisper between us. His hard swallow is louder. “I’m too tired to fight, Greer.” Colt shrugs one shoulder. “But I don’t want to lose ground with you, either.”
“I don’t need you to fight for me.” I inch into the room. “I need space to figure this all out. Away from you. Away from the drama at school.” I collapse to the arm of the sofa. “Away from life, really.”
“You think we can’t figure this out together?” He frowns, searching out my gaze.
I rub my lips together and draw a deep breath before answering. “I don’t think so.”
His retort never leaves his lips. Lacey crashes through the front door, storming across the open kitchen to where we wait.
“You know, I’m most angry that you two kept this from me,” she explodes. “I can get used to you being together, but keeping it a secret from me? Why?”
Colt jolts from the chair, striding toward where his sister just emerged as he throws over his shoulder, “We’re not together.”
Lace frowns, head swivelling as she looks between me and his retreating form. “What? I thought you just said…”
“I said I cared about him,” I clarify. “I never said we were an item.”
“What the hell is going on here?”
If only I knew myself.
TUCK
Johnson is quick to cut off our approach, storming from the house before I have a chance to shut the engine off.
The second Ed messaged and told me what the fuck happened after I left school, I phoned Beau and instigated what is now our impromptu intervention. At first, Johnson’s dedication to his sister was weird and a little gross—after a while, it even became slightly admirable—but now… the attachment is plain unhealthy.
I imagine what I have to say will go down like a cold cup of sick, but this has to be done.
“Told you we should have let him know we’re coming,” Beau mumbles in the passenger seat.
I frown, tugging the key from the ignition. “He would have left.”
“Don’t blame him.” Beau reaches for his door. “Sucks to hear that you’re in the wrong.”
“He’s not in the wrong, really,” I muse. “Just doesn’t have his own interests at heart.”
The two of us exit the vehicle. Ed steps outside the house also, a few feet behind where Johnson waits at the hood of my Hilux. His stance cries confrontation: arms crossed, and feet grounded wide in the dirt.
“What the hell is this?” he grumbles. “Fuckin’ town posse come to hang me?”
“Funny,” I drone. “We want to talk to you.”
Ed moves to stand off to one side, between us all. “Everyone here is a friend, J.”
Johnson drags his gaze over Beau and me, sighing slowly. “I’m guessing this has something to do with my sister?”
Makes it even weirder when he drops the “step” part like that. “Yeah,” I answer. “It does.”
As though on cue, the front door opens, Amber slipping out from the house.
“Hey, guys,” she sing-songs in that cocky, sarcastic tone of hers. “Come to play?”
“Fuck off,” Johnson barks without turning to address her. “You’re not invited.”
Her eyes narrow, the frustration radiating from Amber so damn thick I swear I can almost see the heat waves around her. “Neither are you, then. Stay the fuck out of my room.” She spins and strides back in the house while our friend winces.
“You want to do this here?” he asks. “Or take a ride?”
“You make it sound like a mafia hit,” Ed cracks.
Johnson shrugs. “You got cement shoes in there for me, or what?”
“We’ll do it here,” I answer. If he gets aggressive, I’d prefer he’s at home than stuck somewhere where he relies on us to get him back.
Johnson jerks his head toward the machinery sheds. “Come on then. We’ll go where the slut won’t overhear us.”
I exchange a glance with Beau, curious at his choice of name for Amber.
Our broad-shouldered bunch head across to where Johnson’s old man has his array of tractors and farm trucks on display, taking our respective spot
s on spare wheels and stray pallets amongst over a million dollars’ worth of vehicles.
“If you want me to tell you what she has planned for tomorrow,” Johnsons starts, tucking one boot up against his arse, knee bent under his chin, “then tough luck; she won’t say.”
I settle on the side of an upturned tractor tyre. “You know she opened the invitation to the Riverbourne kids, though?”
He nods. “I gave Dee the heads up.”
“And yet, she still wants to go ahead with it,” Beau says.
Johnson twists his mouth down at the corners. “Some people will do stupid shit to be the popular kid.”
“That’s not why we’re here,” I assure him. “We’re worried about you, bro.”
His steely eyes connect with mine. “I should say the same to you.” A wicked smile teases his mouth. “Your girl seems hell-bent on causing trouble there, too.”
“She’s not causing trouble,” I defend. “Lacey just wants the city douches to know she’s not intimidated by them.”
“Right.” He narrows his gaze. “You know she’s planning to race with the moto-hoes?”
“No. Mandy wants her to race,” I correct. “I’ll take care of that.”
“Sure,” he scathes. “Like you have everything else, huh?”
“You got any better ideas?” I holler.
Beau throws both hands out wide, seated to the side between us. “Ah-ah. You aren’t gonna start that shit.”
“What is it you guys want from me?” Johnsons snaps. “You want me to try and stop Amber from bringing Riverbourne out here? Undo this shit?”
“Not just Riverbourne,” Ed clarifies. “Portside, too.”
“Whoever,” Johnson grumbles. “It all seems a bit two-faced, to me, that you’re happy to go in there and crash their party for your own agenda, but when they want to come out here and clear shit up, suddenly it’s a big deal.”
“I went in there with no intention of starting trouble,” I growl. “It was you that thought fists were a better way to get your point across.”
“Oh, like you’ve never done that before,” he scathes.
“Guys,” Beau shouts. “Cut it out.” He glares at the two of us. “This isn’t helping anything.”
“Sure makes me feel better,” Johnson mumbles.
“Have you got a problem with me you want to share?” I snap, rising to my feet.
“Just that you’re all high and fucking mighty now you’re on your goddamn peacemaker crusade,” he challenges, doing the same. “Your fucking mum died, and that sucks, Tuck. But it doesn’t make you a saint now that you’ve decided to go the straight and narrow.”
“Hey,” Ed urges, palms raised. “Dial it back, man.”
“Is that what you think?” I shout, getting all up in the arsehole’s face. “You think I’m that fucking shallow that I’d use my mother’s death to make myself look good?”
“Aren’t you?” His nose brushes mine. “Ever since her funeral, your halo has grown while I’m even more of a cunt day after day.” I can pick every damn blood vessel in his eye.
“Nobody thinks that,” Beau states.
Johnson backs off to glare at him. “Bullshit, they don’t. You fuckers pretend it’s all good, ignoring the shit that is said. But Amber tells me what people think about me. She’s honest.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Here it is. Her angle with him. “She’s lying to you, man.”
“No.” He whips back to me, knocking me with his shoulder in the process. “She isn’t.”
“Can’t you see it?” I laugh. “She’s her fucking mother. She has your dick twisted around her little finger so that you’ll do anything for her.”
He shoves me hard, knocking me off balance. I regain my footing and promptly resume my place—nose-to-nose with him. “Do that again.”
“Guys!” Beau hollers.
Neither of us pays any mind to him.
“Suck-arse,” Johnson taunts before pushing me again.
I stay my ground and push back. “At least I don’t fuck my sister for kicks.”
His closed right fist connects with my jaw. I double from the impact for a second before rushing him with a shoulder to his gut. Johnson hits the ground behind him, my arm crushed underneath. He gets a sneaky shot to the side of my head before I can brace myself enough to push back and swing one down on his nose.
Blood sprays over the dust-covered concrete, but the smartarse just grins.
So, I hit the cunt again. He returns the favour. We trade blows several more times, leaving a lasting impression before Ed and Beau manage to pull us apart.
“This is not what we’re here for,” Beau reminds me as he hauls my arse a few feet away.
Ed struggles to hold Johnson back, whispering something in his ear that settles him down but doesn’t kill the rage.
“You two feel better now you got that shit out of your system?” Ed asks.
“Sort of,” Johnson mumbles.
“No,” I reply.
That fist to his face awoke something in me I’ve forced dormant the last couple of years. I’m not sure it wants to go back to sleep just yet.
“Tell me this,” Beau asks Johnson. “What do you get out of protecting Amber?”
“Why should I get something?” he asks, eyes narrowed.
“Because, you dumb arse,” Beau says with a roll of his eyes. “If you don’t, then she’s straight out using you.”
He seems to think this over, resuming his earlier seat to stare at the ground with a pinched brow. “If I turn her against me, I don’t have anyone else.”
“Bro,” Ed scoffs. “Are we invisible?”
Johnson lifts his head, looking to Ed and then Beau, before settling on me. “What do I do then?” He tosses his hands in defeat. “What is it exactly you want me to do?”
I relax. “We want you to think of yourself first.”
“Don’t align with her crap,” Ed explains. “Let her make her own mistakes but stop backing her up even when you damn well know she’s wrong.”
“She’s family,” he says unconvincingly. “It’s what you do for family.”
“She’s family by name only,” I remind him. “She is nothing like you.”
He goes quiet, staring down at the ground. Ed catches my eye and shrugs, while Beau studies our friend.
He needs to let her go before she ruins his future.
“She chose Portside,” he mumbles. “I can tell you that much.” Johnson lifts his head. “Even if they accept her into Riverbourne Prep, she wants to go to Portside Girls.”
“Why?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Don’t know. But she’ll have her reasons.”
“None of which will be good,” Beau mumbles.
Silence falls over the group again; Johnson seemingly lost in thought. He frowns, thumb tapping his knee.
“I might have another way to get some idea what Amber’s cooking up,” he reveals. “Richard. He got in touch with me after we crashed that party. Maybe he knows what’s what.”
“Try it,” I state. “Won’t know unless you do.”
Johnson thumbs to the house. “I have to wait until I’m inside; the WIFI is shit out here.”
“Riverbourne plans aside,” Beau says. “What’s our go-to for tomorrow?”
I sigh out my nose, lips pressed in a line. “Keep Lacey from racing. Stem any fights between her and the city fucks. Contain Amber’s nuclear blast to as small of an area as possible.”
Ed snorts.
“It doesn’t even sound easy when you say it,” Beau grumbles. “This shit is going to be impossible.”
“Guys,” Johnson pipes up. “You forget something.”
We all look toward him.
“We’re the fucking Mavericks. The girls at our school think we shit gold bricks, and the guys all want our pulling power. We have a shitload of partygoers that we can use to our advantage.”
“You want the whole fucking school in on this?” I ask.
“Why not
?” He lifts his brow. “If shit goes south tomorrow, then it affects them too. Don’t they deserve to know?”
Shit. He has a point. Despite being between us and our city rivals, this dispute includes everyone one way or another. Why not capitalise on that?
“How do we go about it?”
“Make teams,” Beau suggests. “Get groups onto certain issues.”
“Yeah,” Johnson agrees. “Or just make them aware of everything and let them go rogue.”
“You realise if this doesn’t work that it’ll be chaos,” Ed points out.
“Won’t it be anyway?” Beau scoffs.
I toss my hand in the air. “We have to try at least, right?”
What other option do we have?
LACEY
“Stay the night,” I tell Greer.
She stares out the window over the kitchen sink, watching Colt where he rests against the fender of his Explorer, head down immersed in his phone.
“I didn’t bring anything with me.”
“So?” I lean a hip against the counter with my hand rested on the sleek surface to face her. “You can use my stuff. You fit my clothes.”
She glances down at my school uniform. “I guess.”
“Let him go home on his own,” I urge. “He can have the time and space to get over himself, and you can use the break away to think over whatever this thing is, or isn’t, between you.” I grimace, still unsure how I feel about thinking of them like that.
Turning a blind eye to Colt’s ways with girls was so much easier when the woman in question wasn’t my friend.
“I wouldn’t be imposing on anything?” Greer asks, hugging herself with one arm.
I shake my head. “Tuck said he’d come over tomorrow morning. I don’t have any plans for tonight.” Although… I tug my bottom lip between my teeth.
“What?” She cocks her head to one side, eyes narrowed.
“Stay the night,” I ramble in a rush. “We’ll get dressed up, head over to Maggie’s.”
“Why?” The curiosity is evident in Greer’s tone.
“Why not?” I push off the counter, eager to get Colt going and this plan underway. “I haven’t had a proper girl’s night in so long.” Chin tucked to my chest, I give her my best cutie-eyes. “Please?”