“I’m over it. Shit happens. We move on.”
That’s his way of telling me he’s done talking about it. My phone goes off for the millionth time, but I don’t bother checking. I know it’s Zoey.
“Look, all I’m saying is I don’t doubt for a second this Zoey chick would do the same if it ever came down to you or her. She’d choose herself. In a heartbeat. No second thought.”
“You don’t know her,” I oppose, my mind racing with painful scenarios. Zoey isn’t the easiest friend, I know that, but I have to believe she’d stand up for me if I ever needed her.
“I don’t know her personally, yeah, but I’ve known a million like her. And I’ve known a million like you. The pushover always loses in the end. You’ll see.”
Damn.
“Did you want anything else than to completely shatter my spirit today?” I ask, and he cracks a laugh, the serious tension slipping away.
“Nope. All done. You can go now.”
I smile, reaching for the door handle.
“Nice outfit, by the way.” He stops me. “It’s very… not you.”
He’s right. I never wear crop tops. I swivel around, noticing the way his eyes linger on my body. My pulse throbs in my neck. Why does my skin literally burn when he looks at me?
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just…” He hesitates on which word to use, then settles for, “Casual.”
I have no idea how to answer that.
“You usually don’t do casual,” he adds.
I’m surprised he even notices these things.
“Thanks for the fashion advice. I should probably go before the girls send out a search party for me.” I swing the door open, throwing one last glance over my shoulder. “Good night, Willy.”
He releases a grin. “You too, control freak.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m kicking Zoey’s front door shut and wrestling with the pile of snacks in my arms. “I’m here,” I yell, only to be greeted by my best friend’s thumping footsteps.
“About time,” Zoey huffs, turning the corner and swiping the food from my hands.
“Nice to see you, too,” I call out, watching her stomp off to the kitchen. She replies with a small laugh, at the very least acknowledging her rudeness.
Morgan’s next in line, meeting me at the door for a hug. I feel like we haven’t hung out outside of school in forever. Between my new job and homework, I haven’t seen much of… well, anyone, really. I’ve missed our nights of stupidity.
The smell of popcorn sweeps across the apartment, a sign that Zoey’s putting the money I shouldn’t have spent to good use. Morgan and I spread across the couch.
“Tell me everything. How’s the new job going?” She wraps herself into a soft blanket.
“The job isn’t all that great, but my coworkers are awesome, so that helps.”
We make small talk, catching each other up on the latest. Then she stabs me in the gut with one question.
“So… have talked to your dad lately?”
My breath staggers.
No, I haven’t.
That would require him wanting to talk to me.
“No. He hasn’t called since he left.” I squeeze a pillow to my chest as if to protect myself. “Why?”
“It’s just… my mom told me she saw him at the mall yesterday. She thought maybe he was back in town. But she’s probably wrong.”
A pang of sadness runs through me.
“It couldn’t have been him. He… he would’ve called. He promised he would.” My voice quivers with doubt.
“Hey. Don’t worry.” Morgan picks up on my distress. “She must’ve confused him with someone else. Just forget I said anything, okay?”
I nod, struggling to slap my happy face back on. It’s been close to two months since I came home to my dad packing his things. My mom was locked in the bathroom, sobbing her heart out. He said he needed time to figure things out. That he’d come back when he had his shit together and could be a good dad to us. I asked, begged, my mom to tell me what happened. Why he was leaving.
She never did.
Only said they were getting a divorce and they’d drifted apart.
Not a peep from him since.
All I know is Kendrick and my mom started acting weird as hell the weeks after he left. I’d constantly hear them whispering behind closed doors, notice a sudden conversation change whenever I walked into the room. But then again, I was always a bit paranoid.
God… is he really back in town?
Zoey joins us with popcorn and gummies before my daddy issues rain on my parade. We start scrolling through Netflix. I’d rather skip the lovey-dovey and go full-on comedy tonight, but Zoey insists we watch some steamy romance movie that just came out. As for Morgan, she just wants to keep eating.
I notice all the movies in Zoey’s “Continue Watching” section are… well, hot and heavy, to say the least.
“Zoey, would you happen to have an itch that needs scratching by any chance?” I tease, and she groans.
“Give me a break. It’s the closest thing I’ve had to some action in weeks. And trust me, it’s not for lack of trying.”
“You went back to Sean?” I dread her answer.
“Fuck Sean. Sean can go suck a dick.”
I frown. “Who are we talking about, then?”
“Haze, of course.”
Here we go.
“Seriously, Zo?” I cringe. “Again?”
She fiddles with her phone, oozing shame.
“But you said you were done. You know he doesn’t want a girlfriend.”
“Don’t give me that look. Nothing happened…” She stops and mumbles, “Despite my best efforts.”
“What are you saying?” Morgan asks.
“He rejected me.” Zoey flings her hands up. “Me! Can you believe it? He doesn’t do serious, I get it, but he never turned down sex before. I showed up at his place yesterday, and he practically chased me off his porch. Didn’t even consider it. What am I going to do without my mind-blowing fuck buddy?”
Morgan snorts. “How will you ever survive?”
“Morg, I’m serious. Do you think he could…” Zoey pauses as though she’s terrified to say it out loud. “Be seeing someone? Like actually liking someone?”
“Of course not. It’s Haze,” I reply.
Truth is, as much as I’d like to soothe her worries, part of me can’t stop replaying the moment I walked in on Winter and Mr. Player in the bathroom earlier. They did seem pretty friendly. With their next-level cheesiness and “second date” rubbish. Haze’s voice echoes in my head.
Thank you for getting to know me.
Could it be…
“Really?” Zoey continues. “Because from what I’ve heard, he was with your cousin today.”
How the heck does she know that?
Does she have spies?
I shrug. “So? Probably doesn’t mean anything.”
“What does he see in her anyway? Bitch is kind of ugly. Like a four on a good day.”
Anger eats at my insides. Winter is like a sister to me. I open my mouth to tell her off, but Morgan beats me to it.
“Are you kidding? The girl’s gorgeous. She barely wears any makeup, and she looks like that? I’m sorry, but I have to disagree on this one. If Haze were to like her, I’d get it.”
Fuming, Zoey sends Morgan a nasty glare and diverts her attention to her phone. I lock eyes with Morgan and crack a thankful smile, to which she replies with an I got you nod.
“Well, then…” Zoey speaks after a few seconds of boiling on the inside. “Guess that means I’ll have to go for my plan B, doesn’t it?”
She turns to me.
“Hottie Blondie. You don’t mind, right? I know I was giving him a pass because I wanted you to jump his bones and forget what’s his name, but since you didn’t take me up on my offer…”
The mere thought of Zoey anywhere near Will makes my flesh crawl.
“Why him?”
“Why not him? He’s a total dreamboat. Those eyes, that body, those hands…” She’s practically drooling. “You know what they say about big hands.”
I press my lips together, trying—and failing—to conceal my annoyance.
“Earth to Kass?” Zoey waves her hand in front of my face. “So… What do you say?”
How about fuck no?
“I’d rather you didn’t.” I shift in place.
“Why? Is something going on between you two?”
“No, it’s just…”
“It’s just what?” she pushes.
“He’s my brother’s best friend. You know how I feel about my friends getting involved with these clowns.” I’m lying my ass off. If I’m being honest, I don’t know why I almost hurled on the carpet at the simple mention of them together, but the pit in my throat is good enough for me.
“Kass, come on. If I can’t get anywhere near him, then at least let me have Kendrick.”
“What? That’s even worse! He’s my brother. I don’t want you guys to hook up. Zoey, promise me.”
She begins to answer but hesitates, considering her options.
“Zoey!”
“Fine, jeez. I won’t touch Kendrick,” she gives in. “But no promises about Hottie Blondie.”
Backed into a corner, I ignore the irritation stirring in my stomach and sit as far away from her as I possibly can.
I don’t know what I’m madder about:
The fact that my best friend wants to get Will…
Or the fact that it bothers me.
Kassidy
I’ve always loved the rain.
And I don’t mean the cute drizzle some people love to call rain. I mean the “we shall never leave our houses ever again” rain. I especially loved it as a kid because with rainstorms often came power outages.
When it trapped Kendrick, my mom, my dad, and me inside, I felt like I had a family. For that one, fleeting moment, time slowed down, the world stopped turning, and we were together. There were no pressing emails my dad had to reply to, no important phone calls he had to take, no TV. Just a family.
Playing cards in the dark.
On my twelfth birthday, remnants of a violent hurricane swept through town. We lost power. Dad and I played Go Fish for three hours with nothing but oil lamps illuminating the kitchen. Mom made us sandwiches, Kendrick picked up a book. It’d been ages since he’d bothered opening one of the novels Aunt Lauren, Winter’s mom, gifted him at Christmas.
He read it all with a flashlight that night. It was the first time he’d enjoyed something other than video games in years. I don’t think there has ever been a day where my family was happier than this.
Sitting in my car, I watch the pouring rain bounce off my windshield. Water pummels my piece of junk so hard I’m scared the glass is going to crack. I jerk at the distant thunder, glancing toward my house. It’s past eleven. My mom is still at work, and the only cars in the driveway are Kendrick’s and Will’s.
He’s still here.
I should run inside, crash into bed, and stop thinking about my dad. I’m good at that. Suppressing my emotions. Been doing it for two months now. It’s easy, really, only requires two steps. Step one: make excuses for my him. Step two: push the truth into the deepest corner of my mind.
It’s always worked before, but not this time. What Morgan said is haunting me. He’s back in town? Morgan’s mom, Ms. James, wouldn’t get this wrong.
She knows my dad, wouldn’t confuse him with somebody else. But then… why hasn’t he called? Silencing my better judgment, I dial the number I know by heart.
It rings.
Rings again.
What are you doing? If he wanted to talk to you, he would.
In a moment of panic, I rip the phone away from my ear, but a voice comes on before I can chicken out.
“Hello?”
My heart rate peaks.
I inch the phone closer, struck dumb.
“Hello?” the voice asks again.
But it’s not my dad’s.
It’s a woman.
“H-Hi…” I inhale a sharp breath. “I’m looking for Nick. Is this the right number?”
“Who’s asking?”
“His daughter.”
Silence.
A load of it.
“Oh. Hm… He’s not here right now. Can I take a message?”
“Yes. Please tell him I called, and I’d like it if he could call me back.”
“Of course.”
I don’t remember how the call ended. Or the world’s most awkward goodbye. The truth weighs on my heart when the disconnecting click reaches my ear.
He’s with somebody else.
Already.
I will myself out of the car, taking my time, facing the storm head-on. A normal person would’ve run to escape the rain, but this person isn’t normal.
I can’t be normal and hurt this much.
The violent, cold rain is a relief, a release from the million questions spinning in my brain. It soaks me, frees me in a way I can’t explain. If only it washed the pain away permanently…
I unlock the front door and push it open, rushing into the downstairs bathroom to dry myself. I can hear my brother swearing at someone, most likely Will, over the sounds of video game explosions. It’s clear he just got his ass handed to him.
“Fuck you,” Kendrick snarls.
“Buy me dinner first.”
I smile at his voice.
Yeah, that’s Will all right.
Done with this day, I scurry into the living room to find a laughing Will sprawled across the couch next to my sore loser of a brother. Kendrick is bruised—crazy bruised—but I don’t question it. It happens every once in a while. He takes a beating, then disappears for a bit so my mom doesn’t see him like this.
Except he usually doesn’t come back home at all. I’m surprised he’s even here. A bag of clothes sits at his feet. Ah. He probably just came to get his stuff before retreating to the shadows until he doesn’t look like he got into an argument with a hammer.
I notice Will changed out of his distracting, too-hot-to-be-legal training outfit and is now wearing a plain T-shirt and dark jeans. As soon as they become aware of my presence, Kendrick scoffs, raising an eyebrow.
“What happened to you?” Kendrick points to my clothes.
Right. I’m soaked.
“It’s called rain. It’s pouring outside.”
“It is?” He’s surprised.
“Yeah. You would know that if you opened the curtains every once in a while. How do you even see?” I glimpse at the drawn blinds, peeling wet hair off my face.
“Are you okay?”
These are the last words I expected to hear.
My gaze flies to him.
Will.
Conflicted blue eyes meet mine. I’ve never seen that look on him before. He’s not mocking me, or arrogant. He’s genuinely asking. And, I’m probably crazy, but he almost looks…
Worried?
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I sputter, caught off guard, and breeze past them. I catch Kendrick eyeing Will suspiciously on my way to the staircase. This has to be the first time Will’s ever directly addressed me in front of my brother.
“What? She looks like she just ran over a puppy,” Will says as I’m climbing up the stairs, and I swallow a smile. Seconds later, I’m shutting my bedroom door and falling backward onto my bed. I must lie there for twenty minutes, scrolling through social media and wondering what just happened.
Who’s the woman who picked up?
Why hasn’t my dad called since he left?
What happened for my parents to take the final step and get a divorce? I knew things weren’t going well, but moving out overnight? Isn’t that a bit sudden? Unless something’s been going on behind the scenes this whole time and I was too blind to notice? I need to ask my mom, and I won’t let her change the subject. Not anymore.
I assume the guys are leaving when I hear the front
door slam. I rush to my window, and, as suspected, Will and Kendrick are parting ways, heading for their cars. Kendrick’s the first to drive off. Exhausted, I decide I should probably change out of my wet clothes before catching hypothermia and lock myself into my bathroom to get ready for bed.
When I step back into my room in a T-shirt and shorts five minutes later, I expect to crash into bed, pass out, and hopefully let slumber wipe my tortured mind clean.
But what I definitely don’t expect…
Is to find William Martins lying on my bed.
I screech so loud I scare myself, backing away too fast and slipping on God knows what. I fall on my ass, bumping my head on my dresser in the process because why not? Laughter instantly pours out of Will.
“Damn. I’m that scary?”
Dazed, I rub the back of my skull and look up, discerning his broad-shouldered silhouette a few steps away. Snickering, he offers me his hand.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m getting you off the ground. How hard did you hit your head?” he mocks, driving his hand closer, which I reject, getting up on my own.
“No, as in here. What are you doing here? In my room?” I grimace, my fingers skimming over the small bump on my head. That’s when the humiliating aspect of it all catches up to me. My cheeks redden. “You… You made me fall.”
“Yeah, I tend to have that effect on women.”
Someone give me the strength not to hurt this man.
“How did you even get in?”
“Want to tell me why you lied to me earlier?” he deflects.
I give him a look I can only describe as an “Are you for real?” look. When he realizes I’m not going to entertain him, he runs his finger across my desk and inspects the tip for dust.
“I saw you. You just left, Kendrick—”
“Kendrick thinks I left,” he corrects, scanning the rest of my room carefully before nodding like he’s made up his mind. “Your room is so clean it scares me.”
“Will! Answers,” I urge.
“Do you even sleep here? Is this an IKEA commercial and nobody told me?”
I can’t tell if it’s because I’m deliriously exhausted or because I actually find his dodging of my questions amusing, but I find myself smiling. Trying to understand what he’s doing in my room is pointless. That’s Will. My guess is he left for show and sneaked back into the house after my brother dashed down the street.
Forgotten Rules: A Brother's Best Friend Romance Page 9