Rough Guy: Providence Prep High School Book 3

by Allen, Jacob

  “Is Adam actually being nice?” I whispered.

  “Oh, he’s always nice when it’s just us,” she said back. “When he doesn’t feel like he has to uphold the reputation of the Broad Street Boys, he’s who he is now. A little crass, but mostly sweet.”

  Maybe I’m not the only one looking to start over in college.

  “Does he even like the Broad Street Boys moniker?”

  Emily shrugged. I didn’t expect anything less than obvious excitement, so to call this a shocker was an understatement.

  “I think he liked it when he started it,” she said. “I think at this point, though, he’s ready to pass it off to Ryan. I think he’s come to realize it’s not all that great.”

  “Weird.”

  Very, very weird.

  But probably couldn’t find a better sign yet that they’re serious about treating Emily and Jackie well.

  I poured myself a vodka-orange juice, albeit one with very little vodka. Even here, destressed and free from school and drama, I just wasn’t a big drinker, and I didn’t anticipate being on spring break changing that. Maybe college would, but even that seemed doubtful.

  Emily and Jackie, meanwhile, gave themselves drinks with almost triple the alcohol that I had. Granted, that still only came out to about a shot and a half, but still!

  Adam showed us how Up and Down the River worked, and it was a game that we quickly caught on to—and, in turn, quickly made us happy and excited. Correct guesses turned into reason to celebrate like we’d just won the Super Bowl, while wrong guesses turned into shouts of “bullshit!” and “rigged!” and “this is fucking stupid!” I laughed more in that first game than… well, than since this afternoon.

  It might have been the most laugh-intense day I’d had in months.

  The game ended with Adam and Kevin chugging their drinks, followed by a high five.

  “It’s too bad Nick couldn’t come,” Adam said. “The boys just don’t feel complete without him.”

  Don’t say anything. Don’t show anything. Just shuffle the cards, sip from your drink, and lay low.

  “Because of his brothers, right?” Kevin said.

  “Yeah, his family is lame and wouldn’t let him come because they’re coming into town,” Adam said. “It really fucking sucks. I was looking forward to having us all here.”

  “I know.”

  They both actually seem disappointed.

  Why do I have it in my head that they all just hated each other? That the boys were bullies not only to the school but to each other? Like it was a survival of the fittest type of group?

  I looked over and saw both Emily and Jackie staring at me, as if expecting me to say something. I actually almost did, opening my mouth to say “what’s up?” But I knew better than to get that whole drama going. I just shrugged, gave Emily the deck of cards, and asked her to prepare the next game.

  Conversation didn’t go back to Nick, and one game turned into five. One drink also turned into five. One hour turned into five. Before I knew it, it was after one in the morning, everyone was at least quite buzzed, and people were now complaining more about a lack of food than a lack of drinks.

  “I’m, I’m gonna order some pizza,” Emily said, barely able to remain still in her seat. “Hey, boys, how many, uh, pizzas do you… do you want?”

  “All of them!” Adam yelled. “All meat. No vegetables. Fuck that shit!”

  “He means on his pizza,” Kevin said, somehow the most in control despite having drunk the most. “Jackie is vegan. So no pizza—”

  “No, it’s fine.”

  Everyone gawked at her, even Adam, who had been teasing her just moments before.

  “No meat, I’ll have some cheese though.”

  “So does this mean if you get drunker, you’ll have meat?” I said teasingly.

  The other three burst out laughing. Jackie rolled her eyes with a smile. It felt good to still feel in the middle of things, to be more of a spoke in the group than a wheel without an attachment.

  “OK, so! Three pizzas then. We can have leftovers in the morning!”

  Emily put the order in her phone, loudly yelled “Done!” and then immediately proceeded to hurry to the bathroom. Jackie followed her upstairs, leaving just the three of us at the table. I didn’t think I’d ever been alone with the two of them, and my immediate instincts said that I was in trouble somehow.

  But that just wasn’t true. Adam and Kevin weren’t going to hurt me, not here, at least. And besides, had Emily and Jackie really brought me this far just to leave me alone with the two of them?

  “Let’s go smoke some weed,” Adam said. “Samantha, you’re welcome to join us.”

  “Oh, no, no thank you.”

  “You sure?” Adam said, cocking an eyebrow at me.

  I hated to say it, but with that grin, I could see why Emily found him attractive. There really was something to be said for the bad boy who could charm anyone just by looking at them the right way.

  “I’m sure, but thank you, though.”

  It took a lot more effort than I was willing to admit for me to resist that offer. Honestly, I wouldn’t even know how to smoke the marijuana in the first place; visions of trying to smoke it, only to waste it all or spill it all on the ground danced in my head.

  “Well, if you change your mind, we’ll be outside,” he said.

  They stood up and left me there by myself. I was feeling buzzed and, now that I was alone, quite tired; the long drive, the drinking, and just the general fatigue of battling such big goals for the last four years was starting to catch up to me in a big way. I just…

  I just needed to lie down…

  I went upstairs, found the one room saved for me, and sprawled out on the bed. I spread my arms and my legs, feeling the cozy blankets, rubbing against them like a cat against a nice post. I relished the tingling that went through my body.

  “Might be a good thing Nick isn’t here,” Kevin said.

  I stopped what I was doing. I could hear everything they were saying perfectly. I did not move an inch more, both so that I could hear what was being said and so that the paranoid fear that Adam or Kevin would discover me wouldn’t come true.

  “The hell you say that for?” Adam said before a coughing sound came.

  “Samantha being here,” Kevin said. “You know how disappointed he was about all of that.”

  Disappointed? I mean, he didn’t get laid, so I guess that would be disappointing to a guy.

  “Yeah, but he’s a big boy, he would have survived,” Adam said. “Not like it’s the first girl he liked that he failed to get.”

  Liked? I mean, sure, I guess I knew that, but to hear the boys talking about it like that…

  “Yeah, but he took it real hard, dude,” Kevin said. “He comes here, think of all the drama that would have gone down.”

  “Or, conversely, think of all the good that may have come from them being together,” Adam replied as Kevin coughed. “If they’d gotten together, think of how happy Nick would have been.”

  More coughing came as I hung on every word, so very curious to hear where else this was about to go.

  “She wouldn’t sleep with him,” Kevin said. “That wouldn’t happen, if—”

  “But that’s not what Nick wanted, at least that’s not all he wanted.”

  Shit. I really did overreact to what Nick had done then. Wouldn’t he be allowed to make a move like that at some point?

  “Well, in any case, it’s going to be really hilarious when they don’t date the rest of the year and they wind up at Harvard,” Adam continued. “You know he’s not going to Vanderbilt at this point.”

  “I’m sure you’re disappointed.”

  Silence came. I was sure that Adam was probably shrugging or making some sort of other gesture, but I couldn’t see it, nor would I put myself in a position to be seen spying on them.

  “I mean, if I’m being honest, yeah,” Adam said.

  Apparently, I know nothing of the Broad
Street Boys. Only their image.

  “It would’ve been nice to have started school with him in the fold. But I’ll survive. I’ll just go with the random roommate. Besides, might be good to start fresh.”

  “Which he won’t get to do if he and Samantha wind up in the same place,” Kevin added.

  “You’re telling me if you had the chance to go to Harvard or someplace like that, you’d pass it up because of one girl who made things awkward?” Adam said dryly. “Really?”

  “OK, fair enough. I just can’t imagine Harvard is the only place, the only Ivy, that offered him a chance to play football.”

  “It’s not. But if he’s smart, he’ll go there.”

  Meanwhile, I’m here having to wait another week. But they seem awfully sure about both of us winding up at Harvard. There’s no way, but I wonder if Adam’s father somehow knows.

  No, I knew I was just being a little too paranoid about it.

  But the thing that had my full attention was hearing Adam and Kevin talk about how Nick had actually liked me. It wasn’t that far removed from some of the thoughts I’d had before, but if Nick had only wanted me for sex, it would have been pretty fair to say that he would have bragged to Adam and Kevin about it some other fashion. For him to have not, for whatever conversation had taken place to revolve around how he actually liked me…

  I pulled out my phone, looked at Nick’s number, and thought about texting it. I really gave serious thought to texting.

  Just… not now. Not tonight.

  I came downstairs to see Adam and Kevin had turned on the television to ESPN. None of us were actually watching the program. We just had it on to keep us awake until the pizza arrived. Emily never made it back downstairs; Jackie had put her to bed.

  We stayed up until the pizza arrived and ate in silence. But there wasn’t anything that needed to be said. So many obvious truths had revealed themselves to me today, so many presumptions I’d made before that were just wrong.

  Nothing more had to be said on that.

  * * *

  I woke up around ten in the morning, but best I could tell, I was up before anyone else in the house. I didn’t hear anyone downstairs in the kitchen, and I didn’t hear anyone in the bathroom or in their respective bedrooms. The peaceful silence was just what I needed to satisfy my introverted side for the trip; so long as I had those moments once a day, that was more than enough.

  I quickly got dressed and went for a walk, soaking in the sun’s rays to help me wake up. I brought my phone on instinct, and when I unlocked it, I saw that I’d closed it with the text thread with Nick opened. You said you weren’t going to text last night. But you’re sober now. You’re not hungover. You know there are things you realized that need to be said.

  I took a deep breath, sighed, and started typing.

  “Hey,” I started. How does the first word always seem like the most complicated? “I know things have been quiet, but I don’t want you to think I was toying with you. I understand why you did what you did last time we hung out. I just have issues being more comfortable opening up.”

  I hovered over the draft of the message for a good two minutes, trying to pick apart my own verbiage, trying to decide if what I’d said worked. I couldn’t find any better way to say it; I was sure there was, but I couldn’t detach myself enough to find it. I pressed send, closed my phone as soon as I saw it went through, and continued my walk.

  I tried my damn hardest not to look at my phone as I kept walking. The walk as a whole was only another ten minutes, but it felt like an hour not being able to check my phone. God, I just wanted to see what he’d said—and if he had not said anything, I wanted to see what would happen if I wrote back to him again.

  I was good until I got home. I checked my phone. And…

  Nothing.

  He hadn’t replied.

  And the worst of it was, because I had an iPhone and he had an Android, there was no way to know for sure if he’d received the message or not.

  Who could blame him, really? As far as he was concerned, I’d shown that I was closed off, refusing to do anything more than kiss—something I hadn’t done with anyone else, though he didn’t know that—and that I was the dreaded b-word.

  Boring.

  I might have not felt it was worth the risk before, but hearing the boys’ conversation last night showed me I needed to take more risks. I needed to open myself up to getting hurt. I needed…

  I needed to see what would happen if I let Nick like me for real.

  I walked upstairs when I heard what sounded like a creaking noise. Curious, I followed the source of the noise.

  “Oh, fuck, Adam.”

  Well, there’s your source of the noise. Maybe that’s what you need to do.

  I smirked as I walked past the door. It was weird hearing my best friend have sex with her boyfriend. It felt scandalous and naughty, like I was hearing something I shouldn’t have.

  But you know what else it was? It was a little bold.

  And maybe it was time to be a little bit bolder in my life.

  16

  Nick

  Two things happened in the span of about five seconds that sent my head reeling.

  The first was that Samantha—Samantha Young, the one who had caused me so much stress and confusion this past semester—had texted me admitting that she should have opened up more. If that text had arrived at 3 a.m. in the morning, I might have been able to ignore it as a drunk text and not said anything. But at ten in the morning?

  The second prevented me from even considering how I’d reply to the first message.

  “Nick, get down here!” my father yelled. “Your brothers are home!”

  Well, that’s a fucking delight, isn’t it.

  I already was in a foul mood, knowing my friends were some ten hours away, partying their asses off, getting tan, and enjoying each other’s company while I had to suffer the ignominy of spending spring break with my goddamn family. But at least my parents kept their distance.

  Clarke and Andrew sure wouldn’t.

  I came downstairs, my arms folded, deciding that staying quiet was the best approach—maybe the only approach for my sanity. My father and mother were all the way on the front porch. Behind them, I could just barely make out Adam getting out of the passenger’s side of the car first. Seconds later, Clarke got out on the driver’s side.

  Immediately, tension filled in my veins and I felt very nervous.

  These were probably the people I wanted to see the least. No, scratch that—these definitely were the people I wanted to see the least. Their eyes scanned the front porch, as if looking for me, trying to figure out where I was hiding. They wanted to find me, mock me, relentlessly beat me down, and remind me that I was nothing in comparison to them.

  “Mom! Dad!”

  Andrew and Clarke went up and traded hugs.

  And then Andrew saw me.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t little Nickie,” he said with a smirk as he approached.

  God, I fucking hated that nickname. I’d sooner be called Nicole than I would Nickie.

  “It’s the little twerp!” Clarke said.

  The two of them came up to me, put me in a headlock, and gave a me a noogie. Again, I fucking hated noogies. I would sooner have them punch me in the gut than give me a goddamn noogie.

  “What’s up, shrimp,” Andrew said when they finally released me, patting me on the chest. “You gonna come to Vanderbilt so we can kick your ass?”

  “You fucking wish,” I said.

  “Excuse me!” my mother said. “I know you boys have your own way of speaking, but remember you are around your mother!”

  “Sorry, Mom,” Clarke said. “Whenever we’re around Nick, he’s a bad influence on us and makes us say bad things. We’re normally very good about our language otherwise.”

  I rolled my eyes. Yeah, and I was very good about making my body language seem positive around these two clowns.

  “It’s quite all right, boys,
” Mom said. “Come on, come on, come inside, we’ve got lots to catch up on.”

  “Yes, yes we do,” Andrew said, giving me a hard pat on the back that nearly doubled me over.

  It was going to a long fucking week, made all the worse by the fact that I was nowhere near Wilmington.

  * * *

  I had to sit in abject misery in the family living room for about two hours as I listened to Clarke and Andrew regale Mom and Dad with stories about practice from Vanderbilt. They spoke about how NFL scouts had even come to practice, though I knew that this was nothing more than just big brother bullshit. I followed NFL draft boards for not just this year but the years ahead; not only were Andrew and Clarke Locke never once mentioned as potential picks, they weren’t even mentioned as potential steals in free agency.

  Andrew and Clarke were more likely to be test dummies during drills for actual Vanderbilt prospects than they were to be in the NFL themselves. But when you were the son of our father, appearances had to be kept and expectations had to remain lofty. What was the point of trying if you didn’t reach the top, anyways?

  That, at least, was the gospel according to my father.

  I thought I finally had a break when, after those two hours, my father announced it was time to start preparing lunch.

  “Hey, Nickie,” Clarke said.

  “What,” I snapped, though I managed to curtail the worst of it before it came out.

  “Let’s go play some ball,” Clarke said. “Set up by the courts. Play to 21. Every man for himself.”

  “No, I’m—”

  “Get your butt out there and hang with your brothers,” my father snapped. “I’m not going to have you be a quarantined bum this whole time. Bad enough you quit the team.”

  “You quit the team?!?”

  Both my brothers spoke at the same time. This had gone from awful to pure hell. Talk about things that would never, ever get let down, now through the rest of my life.

  “Now we really have to get him to play!” Andrew said. “We gotta show him what we do to quitters.”