Southside High

by Mankin, Michelle

  “That’s a great idea.”

  “I guess.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Just wish it didn’t have to be tonight.”

  “Because of my birthday.”

  Bryan nodded. “It’s a significant one. Seems like you should do something more than ice cream.”

  “What did you have in mind?” I asked, wondering if the milestone of me being a woman factored for him.

  “I thought about taking you to the beach.” He placed his hand on my lower back to steer me around the heave in the concrete I had a habit of tripping on, and my stomach fluttered from his touch. “Building a fire. Looking up at the stars. Blankets on the sand.”

  “Wow. I’d have really liked that.”

  “Me too.” He gave me a long glance, his focus lingering in certain areas. Those areas tightened and throbbed, just from a look. “Remember when we used to go up on the roof at University House?”

  “We laid up there on a blanket and stared at the sky. Such dorks, we thought the planes were shooting stars.” I’d held his hand back then, my thoughts innocent. But they were far from innocent now.

  “Until my mom told us there was too much light pollution in Southside to see stars.”

  I had the thought that Southside polluted a lot of things that could potentially be beautiful . . . like us.

  “Could you swing by my uncle’s place after you’re done at the clubs?” I asked. “We could do the beach after, if you want.”

  “It’ll be late. It’s a school night. I know how important school is for you.”

  “Chad’s game goes until ten. We weren’t planning for ice cream until eleven.”

  “It’ll probably be near midnight before I could pick you up.”

  “I’ll stay up,” I said. “Promise.”

  “I’ll barely be back in time to catch your birthday.”

  “I don’t mind waiting.”

  “If you don’t,” he said, his gaze darkening, “I certainly would like to see you.”

  “Then it’s a date. I mean . . . a birthday celebration between friends.”

  Bryan stopped and moved in front of me to put his hands on my arms. I registered the seriousness in his expression and the heat of his fingers where he gripped me.

  “Can I give you your present now?” he asked.

  “Sure.” I wet my lips and his gaze dipped.

  He had no backpack. Nothing in his hands. Surely, his present was a kiss. His gaze lifted, his eyes darker gray now than green.

  “Oops.” He released me. “Can’t very well give it to you with my hands on you and not inside my pocket.”

  “What?” I blinked the haze of anticipation from my eyes, though nothing in the world could extinguish the fire blazing inside me with him standing so close.

  “This,” he said, shoving his hand in his leather jacket and withdrawing a folded piece of paper with a flourish.

  “Oh, you shouldn’t have.” I grinned, taking the paper from him and hugging it to my chest. “It’s lovely. Whatever shall I do with it?”

  “Dork.” He smiled, his gray-green eyes sparkling like an alpine meadow aglow with fireflies.

  My world turned upside down. My heartbeats slowed behind the paper. But inside my mind, my thoughts raced. One on top of the other, a flurry of memories came to me.

  Bryan walking me home. Bryan looking out for me. Gentle, protective, smiling, serious, even frowning. Bryan wasn’t just in the memory reel. He was the reel. And I knew what I felt for him was deeper than desire.

  “You okay?” he asked, his smile fading.

  “Yeah, sure. I just wasn’t expecting anything. You caught me off guard.”

  He glanced pointedly at the paper. “Read it.”

  “Okay.” I did, and my racing heart screeched to a stop when I realized he’d paid for an SAT prep course for me. “I can’t accept this.”

  “It’s done. No refunds, only rescheduling. And we both know there’s no more time left for you to do that.”

  “Oh, Bry. Wow.” I threw myself at him, twining my arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

  Ducking my head inside his jacket, I laid my cheek against his chest, and his arms came around me. Experiencing his embrace without the wall between us was as significant to me as what he’d done.

  Elation lifted my feet from the pavement. Desire pounded hot in my blood. And that feeling that I was only now beginning to acknowledge burned bright like a beacon inside me.

  “Can you arrange your hours at the shop to take all the sessions?” His voice sounded funny, a little gruff. Maybe holding me did beacon-type stuff to him too.

  “Yes, I can.” I eased back to look at him.

  “Good.” His eyes were heavily hooded. Unreadable. “So, you like my gift?” He swirled his thumb in a circle on my lower back, and liquid heat pooled between my thighs.

  “It’s the nicest, most thoughtful present anyone has ever given me.”

  “That’s not right.”

  “It’s me. You know how my life is. No presents on birthdays coming from my mom or my uncle.”

  Not even from my brother. He was a guy, a great guy, but Dizzy didn’t do the thoughtful-presents bit.

  I glanced up at Bryan through my lashes. “I can never repay you for this.”

  “It’s a gift, Lace. It makes me happy to see you happy.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He released me. “So, I’ll see you tonight?” he asked as we resumed walking. “For the between-friends beach birthday celebration?”

  “Yes.” I resigned myself to the fact that he might be too honorable to cross any friendship lines, but I certainly wasn’t. “I’ll be waiting for your call.”

  War

  “I can’t believe we got the gig,” Bryan said. Looking as pleased as I was, he stretched his long legs out into the aisle.

  “Our first headlining gig.” I grinned. “Now the music reps have to take notice. We killed it in that tryout.”

  “Paid top billing.” Bryan shook his head in disbelief, his eyes aglow beneath the overhead lights. “On a Friday night.”

  “This Friday night.” Rocking side to side, I sat on a bench on the opposite side of the train from him. I leaned forward, propping my elbows on my knees, just about to ask him a question, when his cell pinged again.

  Dropping his chin, he glanced at the display. His lips curved, and I frowned.

  Bryan had been getting texts all night. Each time he read the messages, he smiled that same secret smile. I had a bad feeling it was Lace texting him. It was her birthday. She was seventeen today, and I’d have been naked with her right now if . . .

  I had a terrible thought to go along with the bad feeling.

  Did Bryan have similar plans with her?

  We’d had words about her on Monday. He denied having feelings for her, but I knew he was into her. She was sexy and sassy with a dash of sweet vulnerability that made you want to be her champion. All the guys at school were halfway in love with her.

  Was Bryan taking advantage of our breakup to make a move?

  When she was mine, I trusted—no, I knew—he wouldn’t cross the line. But what about now?

  “If you want to get her back, I wouldn’t wait too long.”

  Sager was right. I’d been stewing on his advice all week, the part that made sense. I thought I had time, but time was running out if Bryan was pursuing Lace, because it wasn’t just him having a thing for her. I’d seen Lace get starry-eyed over him, as if he were somehow better or different from me.

  Angry. Damaged. Prone to dark emotions. He and I were both products of our upbringing. My damage was on the surface, but his was deeper underneath.

  “Hey, man,” I said, and Bryan glanced up, the soft look in his eyes fading as he focused on me. “Can you duplicate the acoustic chords you did tonight on your electric guitar?”

  “I can try.” His brow creasing, he glanced to where his acoustic guitar case sat near his booted feet.

  He coul
d do it. He didn’t need to try. There wasn’t anything my best friend couldn’t do with a guitar in his hands. The way he felt, ten feet tall and dangerous onstage with that instrument bowing to his command, was the way I felt at center mic with Lace harmonizing with me.

  I made my choice. Right then, right there, on the train speeding along on the return trip to Southside. Watching Bryan’s fingers moving, one on his cell as if it were the headstock, the other on his thigh, he was already working out those chords in his head.

  “Speaking of trying,” I said, my voice thick with the heaviness of my decision. “I’m going to visit Lace, see about getting her back.”

  “What?” He froze, his fingers stilling.

  “Tonight,” I said. “I’m going to her place.”

  “It’s late.”

  “Yeah, but her uncle will be working, and she’ll be up. She’s at Phillips’ game right now.”

  “How do you know?” His brows rose.

  “How do you know?” I frowned, my suspicions rising. “That her texting you?”

  His brow a deep V like mine, he nodded.

  Fucking hell. “She’s mine.” I gritted out the words, my teeth clenched.

  “Not right now, she’s not.”

  He was going to make his move with her, and we were going to have it out. Bryan wasn’t going to back down this time. I saw the determined look in his eyes. I loved him like a brother, but I wanted to wring his neck.

  Knowing at this juncture that I couldn’t push back hard like I usually would, I was going to have to appeal to his honor. He had that in spades. I had none, except that what I wanted, I got, by whatever means necessary.

  “I’m gonna have to ask you to bow out of the running.” My eyes gleamed every bit as determinedly as his. “Right now.”

  His gaze was steady as he held mine. “I can’t.”

  “I love her.”

  When I dropped the L-bomb, he closed his eyes, and his hand tightened until the knuckles blanched around his cell. His other hand on his thigh curled into a fist.

  “When did you decide this?” he asked, opening his eyes. They were as bleak as a night sky without any stars.

  “I think I loved her from the first moment I set eyes on her. But I wasn’t ready to admit it, even to myself, until now.” Love wasn’t an emotion I trusted. “Knowing how I feel, I’m gonna have to ask you to stand down.”

  “War, fuck. You don’t know what you’re asking me. She’s—”

  “Bry, seriously.” I shut him down. “I know, all right. I know she’s different. But she and I have a relationship. Is it really too much to ask you to step aside when she’s only an idea in your head, and she already means so much to me?”

  He dropped his chin, staring down at his feet for a long beat. When our stop was announced, he looked up, his expression firm. “You lay out your feelings tonight. If she returns them, you reinstate her in the band. Then I’ll take myself out of the running.”

  “For good?”

  “Don’t push me, man.” His voice was strained as if he were one of his guitar strings cranked too fucking tight and about to snap. “I get that I owe you a debt I can’t repay. But more than that, you’re my brother in all the ways that count. As long as you have her, as long as she wants you, as long as you do right by her, I’ll back your play and keep my distance.”

  I exhaled, and his phone rang. Tension shot through him when he glanced at the display.

  “It’s her.” His thumb brushed across the screen. Bringing it to his ear, he said. “Hey, Lace, I—” Whatever she said cut him off. “Oh no!”

  My blood ran cold. “What—”

  He waved me off, his eyes narrowing as he continued to listen. “What hospital?” he asked, then nodded. “Okay. We’ll be right there.”

  Staring at me, he nodded as she apparently said something more.

  “Yeah, War’s sitting right across from me. We’ll both be there as soon as we can.” After ending the call, his eyes met mine. “Chad got hurt in his game. She said they took him off on a stretcher.”

  Lace

  I drummed my fingers on the plastic seat in the ER waiting room, hoping for the best while trying to wish away what had happened. Hopes and wishes weren’t compatible with someone like me. But surely they were compatible with a good guy like Chad.

  I kept replaying in my mind the moment when he’d pivoted toward the basket, but the burst of speed he’d expected from his planted foot had given him nothing. Even from my seat in the stands, I knew something was wrong before he went down. I saw it, the terrible expression on his face when he realized his leg wasn’t working properly.

  He’d gone down on his butt hard, just outside the paint. Pounding his fists into the court, he’d then laid back. His body seeming to collapse inward, he’d dug his fisted hands into his eyes.

  “Lace?”

  “Yes?” I snapped out of the memory and lifted my head.

  As tall as his son and just as handsome, only twenty-five years older, Chad’s father stood in the doorway that led to the patient room section of the hospital.

  Seeing his bleak expression, the dread in my heart pounded harder.

  “Chad wants to talk to you.”

  “Okay.” Swallowing nervously, I stood and crossed the room to join him.

  “They moved him to the third floor for pre-op evaluation. We can take this elevator.” Pointing, he walked to it and pressed the call button.

  “What’s the diagnosis?” I asked.

  “Achilles tendon rupture.”

  “Oh no!” My eyes widened. “That’s awful. Can they repair it?”

  “They plan to once the swelling goes down. Hopefully tomorrow.”

  The elevator arrived, and we stepped inside.

  “So, he’ll get better?” Worried, I glanced at his father, one of the few older men in my life who I respected. Though I didn’t know Mr. Phillips all that well, in all my encounters with him, he was a gentleman, and he was a wonderful father to Chad. “He’ll be able to play basketball again. Right?”

  “Hopefully. He loves the sport as much as I did when I was his age.” He frowned. “But he won’t play any more this season.”

  That didn’t sound good. “Chad told me the college teams are scouting him.”

  “That’s all over now.” Mr. Phillips shook his head sadly. The elevator dinged, and he stepped out. I hurried to follow him as he headed down the hall. “He’s upset, and groggy from the meds. His mom is with him now.”

  I winced. Chad didn’t like his mom, his stepfather, or his stepbrother. He hated that the court order from the divorce required him to stay at his mom’s house one weekend a month. He was counting on a scholarship to be his ticket out of Southside, like I hoped my grades would be for me.

  “Well, well, well,” a somewhat familiar voice said, and my eyes widened as Vance Nagel pushed away from the sterile white wall where he’d been leaning. “Warren Jinkins’s Lace is also my poor and newly crippled stepbrother’s Lace too.” His calculating brown gaze narrowed. “What an interesting coincidence.”

  Shocked into silence as I made the connection, I started to bow up at his words, but decided against confrontation. It was better to ignore a guy like Vance. Yet, even though I did, he continued to look at me as if he were imagining me naked. He made my flesh crawl.

  “Step aside, son,” Chad’s father demanded in an authoritative voice that Vance obeyed. “Go ahead, Lace.” He inclined his head to the ajar door.

  Nodding, I went inside. “Hey,” I said cheerily over the beeping of the monitor.

  My gaze quickly passed over the frowning brunette standing beside the bed. She was middle-aged and pretty, but her features were pinched. The grooves of displeasure around her mouth seemed permanent.

  Focusing on Chad, I said, “I heard you’re having surgery tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, if the swelling goes down,” Chad said, and my eyes filled at the glassiness of emotion within his.

  “He’s coming to
my place when he’s discharged,” his mother said determinedly.

  “Enough, Mom.” Chad shook his head at her. “I’m staying with Dad. End of discussion.”

  “How are you going to get to your doctor’s appointments and rehab with your restrictions and your foot in a boot?”

  “Dad.”

  “Your dad’s work schedule isn’t flexible. You’ll stay with me. The medical care on my side of town is better, baby. The schools are too.”

  “Don’t care. I’m not switching schools again. I’m graduating from Southside. No way I’m living with you. I can’t deal with your BS or Vance’s arrogance.”

  “Chad—”

  “No, Mom.” He cut her off, making a slicing motion with the hand that had the IV in it. “Leave, please. I’ve got too much to deal with right now. I’m tired.” His expression tightened. “I want to talk to Lace alone before I take another pain pill.”

  “Okay, baby.” Moving to the end of his bed, she touched the leg that was wrapped up. He made a face, but she didn’t notice. She was too busy looking down her nose at me.

  “Southside trash,” she muttered beneath her breath as she stepped past me.

  “Yikes.” I made a face as I went to Chad’s side, taking the place his mother had vacated.

  “I told you how she was.”

  “Yeah, you did. But I thought you were exaggerating.” I took his large hand, wrapped it in both of mine, and brought it to my chest. “I’m so sorry this happened.”

  “It’s shit. Total complete shit.” His eyes glistening, he swallowed and pressed his lips together.

  “How long do they think you have to stay in the hospital?”

  “A couple of nights.”

  “That’s not too bad. I’ll come up and visit you every day. What’s after that?”

  “Listen, Lace. About that. I think it would be best if we put some distance between us for a while.”

  “What?” My brows rose. “No. Why?”

  “You need to be studying, not playing nurse to me.”

  “I can do both.”

  “No, you can’t, not as long as my recovery’s going to take,” he said firmly and turned his head to the side. “Six weeks, I have to lay around and wear a non-removable cast. Then they take that one off, only to put on another one. I’ll have two to six additional weeks with a removable one, and at least four months after that when my motion will be restricted. And that’s before I can even begin to think about trying to play basketball again.”