My lungs start burning.
He lets go, and I push up and take in a huge breath.
I wipe the water from my eyes and see he’s standing a few inches away from me as I cough and splutter. Then he smiles, and a weird crash of emotion hits me.
It’s like an intense surge of like.
We both laugh.
“You’re going to pay for that,” I say, swatting at him. He raises his hands to defend himself.
“Hey, stop. Let’s make it official. First to get the other in a headlock wins?”
I take him in. He’s buff, sure, but I’ve wrestled with Luke since I was a kid.
“What are the stakes?” I ask.
“Winner gets to decide what we do next time we hang out. Could be anything.”
“Deal.”
We get into position, facing each other, our hands up. I look into his eyes and am distracted for a second. They’re so pretty, such a delicate shade of light green. God. He’s so pretty, with his short, spiky hair and dangerous smile and that freaking body.
How did this even happen?
How did I end up here?
He takes advantage of my distraction, easily swatting my hands aside and then putting his hands on my shoulders.
He pushes me under.
I struggle, but it’s useless.
When his grip slackens, I kick off the bottom of the pool and tackle into him hard. He grunts and loses his balance. We tussle. I manage to get my hands on his shoulders, so I jump up and push down as hard as I can.
He barely budges. He just plants his feet, so instead of sinking under, I’m held up.
Defeated, I fall back down.
“Is that all you got?” he asks, then he laughs.
“Not even close. Wait, I have an idea, don’t move.”
I swim around, so I’m behind him. Slowly, I loop my arms under his, and squeeze his back to my chest. It feels really good, but I’m not going to think about that.
Not even a little.
Nope, not at all.
“What are you doing?” he asks. “This is…”
I jump forward and grip him like a koala, my legs looping around him. I didn’t want to hear the end of that sentence. I pull back hard, pushing my knees into him, making his spine arch. I twist to the side, trying my hardest to get him under.
He grunts and shrugs me off more roughly than before. I stand up, and he gives me an additional push on the chest for good measure. But he’s smiling, so I know it’s okay.
I totter back.
“Too rough?” I ask, and I grin at him. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re good. I just didn’t know you had that in you. Nice work.” He flicks my chest. “Try again. Really try and beat me, don’t hold back even a little. I can take it.”
“All right.”
I grab his wrists and try as hard as I can to bring them together. He grits his teeth and pulls his hands apart, easily overpowering me. His biceps bulge as he does it.
“Come on, try,” he says.
“I am!”
“Barely. Give me everything you’ve got, I want to see it.”
“I am! Are you holding back?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I’m sorry, but I am.”
We pause.
“Then stop,” I say.
He blinks. “You sure?”
“Yeah.”
His eyebrows narrow, and he moves forward. I spin and try to swim away, but he grabs my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. He puts his hands on my biceps and roughly spins me around, then pulls me to him, so my back is pressing into his chest.
He picks me up, lifting me out of the water.
“Fu…,” I start, but then he drops me and clamps his hand down hard over my mouth.
I try my hardest to get out from his grip, but he’s holding me too tight.
He grips me and falls backward, pulling us both under the water. My lungs start to burn as my hands scramble against him, but I’m stuck to him. He pushes me up out of the water, and I take in a huge breath. He takes that second to interlock his fingers on the back of my head …
Trapping me in a headlock.
My arms are stuck.
He won.
I had no idea he had that in him.
No freaking clue.
“See?” he says. He moves me around like I’m a rag doll. “Easy.”
I’m no quitter, though, so even though I know it’s dire, I keep fighting, kicking and bucking and trying with everything I have to throw him off. But no matter how much I spin and fight he holds on.
He’s too strong.
I give up.
I stand motionless, my heart jackhammering.
I don’t even know how I wound up here.
And I can’t lie, I love this contact. It’s … like, so good.
His chest is flush against my back, and I can feel his rapid heartbeat, and his heavy breathing right by my ear. It tickles my scalp.
At least I gave him a run for his money. We both catch our breath. His chest is heaving, becoming fully pressed against my back every few seconds.
Every second of contact makes me feel fully charged.
“Dude?” he whispers in my ear.
“Yeah?”
“Do you give up? You need to tap out.”
I tap on his arm, and he lets me go.
* * *
I get home and park in my spot. I turn off the engine and just sit there for a second, thinking. My mind is stuck on that moment in the pool. It felt like I almost lost control for a second there.
And I really, really liked it.
I open the door and step outside, then jog up to the front door. Inside, Luke is playing Fortnite. Eddie is curled up beside him.
“Hey,” he says. “Where were you?”
“A friend’s place.”
His eyebrows narrow. “What friend?”
“Lev, we’re hanging out again.”
We hung out a few years ago, but then it petered out when he found a new group of guys to be friends with. He got popular and ditched me, basically. It hurt like hell, and I’ve never told anyone about it. But I’ve decided he’s the perfect cover, because Luke and Dad know him, and I figure it’s not too weird that we’ve started hanging out again. I feel like in an alternate universe, one where I’m not a total loser, it could happen.
“That’s awesome!” he says. “Lev’s a cool dude. What’d you do?”
Talked about being gay.
Shirtless wrestled.
You know. Straight stuff.
“Not much. Swam for a bit.”
“Nice. Wanna join? I just finished my game.”
“Yeah, later,” I say. “I’m going to take a nap; I’m wiped.”
“’Kay.”
I lock the door to my room. I should probably turn on my speaker and play some music, make some white noise, but I don’t think I have time. What I’m feeling is way too intense for that sort of preplanning. I know it might be a bad idea, seeing as I want to stay just friends with Jason, but I’m not in control right now.
I don’t have a choice.
I pull off my shirt and then fall backward onto my bed.
In my mind, I go back to the pool. It’s not too difficult, I still smell like chlorine and sunscreen.
I slide my hand down my pants and start.
Jason. Jason Jason Jason.
My hair is still wet, I can feel it against my pillow. I recall his body, and his smile, and exactly how it felt when he touched me. Or complimented me. Or sat right beside me. The way he laughs.
Tension builds in my shoulders, and with my free hand I yank my jeans down a couple of inches. The feelings swell, becoming unbearable, and I try as hard as I can to stop but it’s too late and I …
It’s done.
I lie back down, breathing heavy. My shoulders relax, and I smack my lips. My jeans are digging into my thighs.
Shit.
I just jerked off to Jason. And I wasn’t even quiet about it. Anyone wa
lking by might’ve heard.
What if they heard?
I could never look at them again. My life would be over.
I’m so majorly boned.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It’s official: I like Jason as more than a friend.
I tried my best to stop it, and yet, it happened. I know it in my gut; I know it with everything I have. Ever since we hung out in the pool, it’s like a switch has been flipped. I always noticed he was cute, because he is, and I’ve always liked his company.
But now it’s more than that.
It’s a fully-fledged crush.
Every time I think about him, it’s like my stomach fills with pissed-off butterflies. And I’m smiling so much lately that my cheeks are always kind of sore. Even though all this stuff is going on, thinking about him makes me smile that hard.
Fucking damn it.
* * *
I’m sitting with Dad, in his hospital room. He’s finally being brought out of his coma tonight. I can’t believe my timing with this crush, but it’s not the sort of thing I can control.
If I could get rid of these feelings, I would. In a heartbeat.
It’d be a lot easier to stay friends with Jason. And what I need right now, more than anything, is a friend.
I can’t let myself be distracted by this. Luke is here, and so is Vince, who is beside his wife, Sara, and Tony. We’ve been here for hours today, listening mostly to machines beeping and Dad’s breathing. It’s weirdly hypnotizing. All I know is the chemicals keeping Dad under are no longer being pumped into him, so he could wake up at any time, and my whole family wants to be nearby the second that happens.
It could be because they care about him.
Or they just want to make sure they stay in his good graces.
It’s hard to tell.
Anyway, being here has given me a lot of time to think about Jason. Still I haven’t figured out what to do about my feelings for him. Unrequited romantic feelings can often signal the end of a friendship. If I tell him, and he doesn’t feel the same way, then things will get awkward and we’ll probably stop hanging out.
My instincts tell me I need to keep these feelings a secret, until I know how to wrangle them into something controllable. Because they’re totally off the chain, rampaging through my life, making me think about him nonstop.
But then there’s the off chance that he’s feeling something close to what I’m feeling.
In that case …
Across the room, Luke rushes forward to stand by Dad’s bedside. He’s noticed something—I guess because he’s here, not miles away, like me.
Dad groggily opens his eyes.
The first thing he sees is Luke. That feels fitting. I stand up and move over to the bed. Dad sees me and smiles weakly.
“My boys,” he says, reaching out and putting his hand on Luke’s, then on mine.
“We’re here, Dad,” says Luke. “We barely left.”
“I know,” he says. “I could tell.”
Does this mean he’ll be okay? His skin looks slightly translucent, his hair is limp, and his cheeks are covered in salt-and-pepper stubble. But he’s awake, that’s the main thing. He doesn’t look so bad for a guy who took two bullets to the gut, is all I’m saying.
“Welcome back, Mr. Miller,” says the nurse.
Dad opens his mouth, but then his face twists in pain.
“Don’t try to talk,” she says. “Just relax.”
Dad nods and then closes his eyes again.
“What’s happening?’ asks Luke. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine,” she says as she writes something on her clipboard. “He’ll drift in and out for the next few days. It might be best for you all to give him some privacy; he will need to rest for the next few hours.”
I glance at Luke. He’s calling the shots on this.
“Okay, you heard her,” he says. “Clear out.”
I turn and go to leave.
“Not you, Matt,” he says.
“Oh, right.”
To my surprise, my family complies. As a group, they all file out of the room, I’m guessing to head to the waiting room. The nurse follows them out. She closes the door behind her, so it’s just the three of us.
“One of us should stay,” he says. “You want to take first watch?”
“Sure.”
“Cool. We’ll swap in five hours, that sound good to you?”
“Yep.”
Luke starts packing up his backpack. “Are you sure you have everything you need for the ball?”
To be honest, I’m surprised it’s going ahead, given Dad’s current situation. But it is.
“Yeah, my suit came the other day. Dad already got me everything I need.”
My heart aches.
“Have you tried it on?” asks Luke.
“A bunch.”
“And?”
I smile. “You might not be the only good-looking one.”
“Bring it, little brother.”
“Oh, I will.”
He smiles, but then his attention falls to Dad, and his face drops. “We got really lucky, you know that, right?”
“What do you mean?”
He rests his hands on the metal end of the bed. “If they got their way, he’d be dead.”
Technically that’s true. Still, Dad isn’t totally innocent. The Donovans may have started this, but he’s the one who decided to turn it into an all-out war. I can’t believe I’m thinking this, but I do think it’s partially Dad’s fault that he got shot. If he’d tried to figure out some sort of peace with them, then we wouldn’t be here.
I guess I’m still hoping this is the wake-up call I’ve wanted him to have for ages.
“I want to kill them,” says Luke. “Every single one.”
“I know.”
“I haven’t told you, but I have all my leads tracking down the shooter.”
“I thought it was Maria Donovan?”
“No, she wouldn’t get her hands dirty like that. She might’ve called the hit, but she’s not the one who did it.”
That makes sense. Dad only really gets involved these days when he’s showing me or Luke how things are done. Most of the time, he orders someone to do his dirty work.
“I want her dead, too,” says Luke. “But nobody knows where she is right now. We’re trying, but we can’t find her. So my focus is on finding the man who pulled the trigger. He’s just as responsible, and sure to be less protected. We can get to him.”
“And what will we do if we find him?”
Luke finally looks at me.
“We’ll kill him. Together.”
* * *
My brother is being serious.
Luke wants us to kill someone.
That was a few days ago now, and I still can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve spent most of that time either with Dad or at school. Dad’s technically awake, but he’s still pretty out of it, and we can’t really talk. Every time we try, it just uses up all his energy and he drifts off again.
Right now I’m in Luke’s car, being driven to somewhere I know isn’t going to be good. Apparently Vince has managed to capture a Donovan and has been torturing him all day. According to Vince, he has let slip some information he thinks everyone needs to hear.
“What do you think it is?” I ask.
We’re on the bridge to the port now. It’s a massive structure, lit by blue lights underneath. We’re over water, which makes the air pretty cold, but Luke insists on keeping the top down.
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“What do you think the Donovan gave up?”
“No idea. But it must be big for Vince to want all of us to hear it.”
I want to ask him what will happen to the Donovan they caught. I’d like to think that they’ll let them go, but deep down I know that’s not how it works.
Someone is going to die tonight.
And I can’t stop it.
Against my leg, my phone vibrates. I switche
d it to vibrate mode because I’ve been waiting for a text from Jason.
I messaged him earlier, before I knew about what was going down tonight. We were talking about our favorite TV shows, and I asked him who his favorite Friends character is. He said he had to go to baseball practice and he’d respond when he’s done. I pull my phone out, unlock it, and read his message.
Hey. Why would you ask that? I can’t choose, man. I guess Chandler is my favorite? I dunno. The only one I don’t love is Ross, but I think he’s necessary to the plot, even if he can be annoying. Who’s your favorite?
So he’s a Chandler guy?
I like that. It makes me think he likes jokes and dry humor. It just fits.
Phoebe. How was practice? And who’s your favorite Brooklyn Nine-Nine character?
That’s so cute that you like Phoebe! Practice was good, I’m wiped now, though. And so disgustingly sweaty. My favorite is Holt, obviously. You?
Same, he’s the best! And how sweaty are you talking?
He sends me a selfie. His shirt has a deep V of sweat on it. Still, he manages to look really cute in the photo.
Shit, you must’ve worked hard.
Haha yeah. My coach doesn’t mess around; he makes us do endless shuttle runs. Anyway, how about The Good Place?
That sounds like torture. And hmm. I’m going to go with Janet for this one.
It is. Believe me. I’m sure you could handle it, though. And nice! Love her. Mine’s Chidi.
I really like all his choices. My phone lights up again.
What are you up to right now, btw?
“Who are you texting?” asks Luke.
I freeze.
“No one,” I say.
Luke grins. “Oh my God, it’s a girl, isn’t it?”
“What? No, I swear!”
“Dude, you so are. How’d you meet her?”
“I already told you, it’s not a girl. It’s nobody.”
“So you’re texting no one?”
“It’s a school thing. History group project. Kill me now.”
“You dirty liar! Come on, tell me everything.”
I chew my lip.
“I’m not lying, it’s for a group project.”
“Dude, nobody has ever looked like you just did while working on a group project. Not even once.”
I mean, that is true. Group projects are worse than sleep paralysis.
The Friend Scheme Page 10
