I laughed and fuck, that hurt, but she smiled.
“And I’m not going to tell your father.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I meant that about seeing Frankie and her hug. I didn’t give a damn if she told Dad. What would he do? Lecture me via Skype? That was what mute was for. “I’ll try not to be late.”
“Hmm…tomorrow we’ll deal with the school.”
Mr. Wittaker shook Archie’s hand, and then Mom headed for her car. Joe lingered behind, and then he focused on Archie and me.
“Thanks for coming down, Joe,” I said.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “Ian won’t tell me what the fight was about.”
Okay.
“You’re probably not going to tell me either.”
Archie and I both stayed mute.
Joe nodded once, then folded his arms. “Boys, whatever is going on with all of you—and yes, I am aware of some of it—you need to find a way to resolve it without fighting. You’ve all been friends for too long, and you’re not doing Frankie any favors.”
Bubba had mentioned he’d talked to his dad about Frankie. While Archie frowned, he didn’t say or ask anything. I just nodded. “I get that, sir, I do.”
“I hope so,” he said with a sigh. “And Jake…you and Ian should talk. I mean really talk and not with your fists.”
Didn’t really see that happening, but… “Is he all right? I didn’t see him after the nurse.”
Mostly because they separated us. I’d meant it when I said he got the worst of it.
“Looks a bit like you, definitely in a worse mood, and his mother was not as understanding as yours.”
I didn’t laugh, but it was kind of funny.
“There’s a chance he’ll be riding the bench with you,” Joe continued. “So maybe you two will have some real time to talk.”
Yep, and maybe monkeys named Bob would fly out of my ass.
“Be good, boys,” he said. “Remember what I said about Frankie.”
No sooner had Joe climbed into his car and pulled away did Archie round on me. “What the hell was that about Frankie?”
“I’m fucking starving, and my face hurts. Feed me and get me to my car, and I’ll tell you.”
He jerked his thumb toward the Ferrari before heading toward it. “Should I call Coop?”
Probably.
Fuck.
What I wanted was to go find Frankie, but we needed to figure this out.
“Yeah, we should probably loop him in since Bubba told her about the damn points thing.”
“Oh yeah,” Archie said as he slid in the car. “We know.”
“What?”
I twisted to look at him before I reached for the seatbelt.
“She told us. Took it way better than we deserve,” he told me before he started the engine. “Way better.”
Well, that was something.
“But I still want to hear this, and then the three of us are going to have a heart to heart with Bubba.”
We needed to do that, too.
“Because right now?” Archie told me as he backed out of the spot. “I’m done with this shit.”
“Ditto,” I said, and pulled out my phone.
I fired off a text to Frankie.
Me: I’m all right. No charges. With Arch and getting food. You ok?
Her response made me grin for real, and I didn’t even care that it pulled at my lip. Head back against the seat, I blew out a breath as Archie told his car to call Coop.
We had to sort this out, because Archie was right. I was done with this shit, too.
Chapter Eleven
Cryin’ Won’t Help
“So what happened?” Rachel asked as we wandered through the dense and crowded shop. Coat Rack was everything Marsha promised. Between the vintage clothes, accessories, and more, there was barely room to stand, much less walk. We had to squeeze our way through, but it was like digging for treasure.
Right now, I desperately needed the distraction, even if it was for Homecoming. The fact that Rachel hadn’t even questioned the why of it and shown up when I asked helped, too.
“He told me Jake had been arrested after the fight.” Ian had looked like crap. The bruises were pretty bad. Not a little bad, but very bad. Worse had been the look in his eyes. “When I got past the initial disbelief, I asked him what happened…”
“You knew the fight happened,” Rachel observed, then paused to pull a dress out from the overstuffed rack, and I braced some of the items back so she could free it. When she held it up to herself, I stared at it skeptically. It looked like something a grandmother might wear to a funeral. “I could do things with this.”
“Burn it?” At my suggestion, she grinned.
“You never know, anyway…you knew the fight happened.”
I shrugged. “Yes, I knew they fought. Hard to miss with Bitchy McBitcherson’s video this morning.”
Pressing a hand to her chest, Rachel swooned. “Damn, it does my heart good to hear you talk smack.”
“Shut up,” I grunted, and gave her a light shove, even if I was grinning. We pressed through and came to a whole display of gold jewelry pieces, bangles, necklaces, rings, earrings…so much glitter and gold.
“Uh huh, spill, you’re killing me with the anticipation. What did the great golden one say when you asked?”
I rolled my eyes at the description. “Be nice.”
“I am being nice, I didn’t call him the football dickhead.”
My mouth twitched as a giggle-snort escaped. “True.” When she pinched me, I yanked my arm away. “All right, all right.” Where to start? “We went out by the pool, he’s not supposed to have guests, but he said he figured his mom would make an exception. Apparently, he’s in a lot of trouble with his parents because of the fight.” His parents hadn’t been there, so that might have been an excuse, too.
“Sucks to be him.”
Kind of did. He was eighteen and likely grounded, but he said he deserved it, so maybe that was on him. I don’t know anymore. Bit by bit, I told Rachel a little of what happened over the last few days, beginning with Ian leaving Saturday morning after telling me he didn’t think he could do this but we could still be friends.
The whole time I spoke, I kept my attention on the jewelry. Coming to the shop had been half an excuse to talk to Rachel on neutral ground, and half because I actually did need something to go with my dress.
If I even ended up going to Homecoming at this rate.
When I reached the part where Ian told me about the points, she grimaced. “Yeah, I knew that.” At my askance look, she lifted her shoulders. “Everyone knew it.”
The note about did I know who they’d done that summer made a lot more sense.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “Go on.”
“Anyway, he told me Jake wanted to know what was going on with him, so he told him, and Jake was sticking up for me and telling Ian he needed to talk to me, just lay it out there and find a solution.” For which I could kiss Jake because dammit, that was what I wanted, too. I hated this awkward distance between me and Ian, and I hated it even more that he and the guys are struggling. “I mean, it was bad enough the night Ian punched Archie.”
“Party night. Good times. Tell me rich boy deserved it.”
“Rachel…”
“I’m still being nice, you just happen to like the douche bags more than I do, and frankly, I don’t think one of them deserves you. But I’m definitely biased, so I will do my best here. Okay?” She crossed her eyes and made a face at me, and I shook my head. I didn’t know what to do with her sometimes.
“Moving on,” I said, because while Ian and Jake seemed to think Archie deserved it, I personally did not. “Ian’s convinced I don’t know what’s good for me.”
“Oh, he’s sounding better to me…”
“Like I can’t make my own decisions about what I want.”
“Never mind. Not so much.”
Rolling my eyes, I tried to focus. The conversation had be
en uncomfortable because he’d avoided looking me in the eye for a lot of it. Right up until he got to the part I needed to know. “The fight started because Ian told Jake he’d told me about the points.”
“That would explain why Jake threw the first punch,” Rachel mused. “The question I have is, was he more pissed that you knew about their dirty laundry or pissed because ‘Ian,’” she said with air quotes, “telling you broke some kind of bro code.”
That was food for thought. “Maybe both. Jake’s really protective.”
“And in other news,” Rachel held up a box of a necklace and earring set like it was a microphone. “Water is wet.” Sobering, she put the box back. “What did you do?”
“I asked him if the problem lay with me dating Coop, Jake, and Archie. Or if he just didn’t want to date me.”
Pivoting to face me, Rachel studied me. “And he said…?”
“He didn’t know.”
“You should plug your ears. No seriously—because I’m about to not be nice.”
“Rach—”
“Nope. He doesn’t fucking know?” She spread her arms. “Those were not difficult questions.”
“But they are complicated ones.”
“Frankie,” she said, gripping my biceps. “Do you want to date all four of them?”
“Yes.”
“Do you still want to date just three of them if one is out?”
“Yes but…”
“But what?”
I couldn’t look anywhere else. “It won’t be the same. It’s been the five of us since freshman year.”
“It was the four of you before that, and the three of you before that, and what? You and Coop before that. So you can only add, not subtract?”
Ouch.
“I’m not trying to be a bitch.”
“If you never have to try,” I said dryly as I hung the necklace back up.
Rachel hugged me. “There. That right there.”
“What?” I extracted myself and stared at her.
“That bite in your words, that’s what you’ve been missing for months. If I hadn’t told you about their asinine plan, maybe you would still be right there kicking them in the ass, and they wouldn’t have tripped over their own toys. But you carry the water for all of them. I know part of it is who you are, but the other part is very much they are used to looking at you as their barometer for whether something is okay. Clearly, they suck at it on their own.”
Head back, I groaned. “This isn’t helping me.”
“Because I can’t help you, and neither can they. You have to decide what you want.”
“I did.”
She paused, then glanced around before she focused on me again. “What did you decide?”
“Ian said he didn’t know. Then—the whole we can still be friends and he would still take me to Homecoming and…” I waved my hand at the jewelry. “Part of why I’m here. Marsha and Cheryl are both insisting I need accessories.”
“You do, and we’ll get them. Go on.”
“But I don’t want ‘I don’t know.’”
Rachel said nothing.
“And I don’t want them fighting.”
The silence grew deeper, if that was even a thing.
“So I told him I didn’t want to go to Homecoming. I was releasing him from his obligation and his ask. That, if we were friends, then we were friends, but we were officially not dating. I broke up with him. Two weeks…three weeks. Seems like forever and no time at all.” I blinked furiously. The only reason I’d come out and called Rachel was Archie and Coop said they were working to get Jake. There was literally nothing else I could do, and I had to get my own head figured out.
If Jake ended up charged…I didn’t know what would happen next.
“What did he say?” The soft question reminded me Rachel was there, just as I spotted a really pretty necklace with several layers and it had charms on it. Charms like my bracelet.
I lifted it down carefully. “He didn’t say anything.”
“Nothing?” Disbelief populated the word.
“I left.” I lifted my shoulders. “He needs to figure out him. If dating me or not knowing if he can or any part of that is the issue, then he needs to figure that out first. I don’t know how to do the other.” Even with my inconsistent and mercurial mother, and her waxing and waning affections. It took every ounce of my energy to keep up with her, and I didn’t even want to do that anymore.
She was my mom, but the more she was away, the more I wanted her to stay gone. What did that say about me?
“Wow.” No smart remarks. No cutting comment. “You okay?”
“I don’t know. It’s weird because I never realized they all had things for me. I’d always nursed little crushes on them. I mean—they were my best friends. They were my rocks.” If I couldn’t count on my mom, I could count on them, and then… “And even before we started dating, when they asked, and I said I was worried it was going to change everything. This is what I was afraid of.”
Rachel sighed. “That necklace, these earrings, and these bangles.” She plucked two things off the shelf and pressed them in my hand. “Come on. Buy those, and we’re going for ice cream.”
“I don’t…”
“You do and you can.” She turned me by the shoulders and marched me through the squeeze until we found the register. All together, it didn’t cost more than a few dollars.
Outside, the humidity smacked us in the face, and she pointed to her car. “Ride or follow?”
“Follow,” I said almost automatically. I’d been jammed out of my car so much lately. I didn’t want to not have it.
“Okay…we’re going to—” She broke off when my phone buzzed.
After digging it out of my pocket, I stared at the message on the screen and let out breath.
Jake: I’m all right. No charges. With Arch and getting food. You ok?
For the first time since I heard about the fight, I could take a deep breath. It didn’t even bother me that Rachel read the message over my shoulder.
“He’s okay.”
“Yeah,” I exhaled. “Archie went to help and yeah, he’s okay.”
“Cool, tell possessive dickhead you’re having a girl’s night, and you’ll kiss his boo boos later. Don’t tell him about Bubba or the rest of it. If he just got out and texted you first, he’s worried about you. You need to figure this out before you see him.” All really practical, if colorful, advice. Jake had enough to worry about.
Me: You have no idea how happy that makes me. Girl’s night with Rachel. No dickheads allowed (her rule, not mine). Will txt when done.
“Nice,” she chuckled. Then with a glance at Rachel, I shifted to keep my screen private and added.
Me: No mom. Sleep over is available.
I hit send before I could chicken out. I wanted to see him badly. Not just because he tried to talk to Ian for me and not just because of the fight, but all of it really. As crazy as all of this had gotten, Jake hadn’t wavered. Nor had Archie or Coop. Or maybe they had, and it just hadn’t escalated to me, I don’t know.
I really didn’t want to think about it.
“Ice cream?”
Rachel gave me an encouraging smile. “You got it.”
Once in the car, I sent texts to Archie and Coop, just googly-eyed smiley faces. I added that I was with Rachel, and I’d text them later.
I got back a gag face from Archie, and a wide-eyed one from Coop. I could almost picture their faces, and I laughed. They were okay, and Jake wasn’t in jail. The day was almost fifty percent better. I almost tabbed to Ian, then stopped myself.
Instead of going to a place to sit down, we hit the grocery store. I picked out some double-chocolate chocolate chip, then grabbed a bag of yogurt covered pretzels and another bag of chocolate covered donut snacks. Rachel didn’t say a word, even if all she picked out was some mint chocolate chip and a bottle of Magic Shell. We grabbed a thing of plastic spoons, too.
After, I followed Rachel out
to the lake this time, and she parked off near one of the picnic areas. The sun was setting, the breeze off the lake was cooler, and the whole area was empty, our cars were the only two in the lot.
“Okay,” she announced, peeling open the ice cream tub. “Back to shit for brains.”
I didn’t even try to correct her this time. Honestly, it was easier to think about it all if I didn’t think of their names. Ian had been Bubba forever, but Ian for only a few weeks, and I missed him already.
“You broke up with him.”
With a nod, I dug into my own ice cream. “Seemed the thing to do. He couldn’t seem to decide what he wanted, and he was miserable. I don’t want to make anyone miserable.”
“Yeah, I don’t care about him right now,” Rachel said, pointing at me with her spoon. “How do you feel?”
I laughed, but there was no humor in it. I tore open the yogurt-covered pretzels and used one to dig out another bite of ice cream.
“I say this as someone who thinks you’re amazing—I fucking envy you your metabolism.”
“Sorry,” I said, though I wasn’t really. “I tend to eat my feelings.”
“Truth. You can eat and talk though.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know how I feel. It’s all been so messy. At the same time…” I took another spoonful of the ice cream. “I don’t know how to do this. The first guy I ever dated was Mathieu, and that was all of one and a half dates, one of which was me cooking in my kitchen, and then the guys were all asking me out, and I didn’t feel about him the way I do them.”
“How do you feel about them?”
That was the ten thousand dollar question. “They’re my best friends. I miss them when they’re not around. They’re the first people I talk to in the morning and the last ones at night…” I adored them. “Not talking to them over the summer was like carving out a piece of myself, and it was lonely as hell.”
Sighing, I closed my eyes.
“I don’t mean to dump all of this on you.”
Keys and Kisses: Untouchable Book Three Page 15