by Mj Fields
I pull my duvet over my head and pretend to scream into it before righting my head, sitting up, and looking at … an empty bed.
Walking upstairs to the kitchen, the smell of bacon wafting in the air, I expect to find Gabrielle but find pretty much everyone else all but staring at me.
“What?” I ask, knowing exactly what. Then, quick-like to cover my ass, I ask, “Where’s Mom and Dad?”
“Shopping,” Justice says, popping a piece of bacon into his mouth.
“So, is this the surprise Mom was talking about last night and you were all hush-hush about?” I ask, walking over and taking a piece of bacon off the platter, tearing it in two.
“What did you think it was?” Kiki asks. “An intervention?”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, right? She spent the night because—” I snap my mouth shut and shake my head. “Just because.”
“Okay, first, no; and second, hell no.” She scowls at me.
There are a million things I could say to her right now, things that would be hurtful and said out of anger. Things like you have no right to get pissed at me when you were hiding that you’d not only lost your V-card but were pregnant. However, in her defense, she didn’t know she was pregnant, until I made a joke about it.
Then she presses on, and I feel cornered.
“Look around, Truth, we all give a fuck and are worried.”
I shake my head.
“You don’t get to say no to your crew, T,” Justice says.
Him, I can be a bitch to. “And you don’t get to run your damn mouth about something you know nothing about.”
“T …” Patrick sighs. “He’d know if you’d be honest.”
“We all went to the party. I got stuck. No big deal,” I say, frustrated.
“She’s not wrong, Kiki,” Max says.
“Well, you all are for leaving her behind,” Kiki snaps, tears pooling in her eyes. “I wouldn’t have. Not ever.”
“And I love you for that, Kiki, but if you were there when the cops showed up, you’d have hid in a closet and waited them out, too. And you would have overheard them being assholes to a teenage girl who was worried they’d come back.”
“Well, she did have a party with underage drinking and—”
“Like we are tonight.” Amias laughs.
Kiki redirects the conversation. “I don’t trust her.”
I nod. “I was sober, I was fine, and Tobias was there, too, so I wasn’t alone.”
“What!” Kiki yells.
I look at Justice. “Left that part out, huh?”
Kiki again steps in. “The fucker Justice is fighting tonight because of your new bestie’s video?”
“I got no problem with him,” Justice says.
“Why’s that?” I ask, knowing damn well why.
“Told you last night; he seems like a good guy.”
“Yeah, so why is he fighting you then?”
“ ’Cause I agreed to fight …” Justice pauses.
“He didn’t ask to fight you, though, did he?”
“It was implied,” Justice answers.
“And how about Gabrielle? Did she ask you to fight him? Because I’m guessing not. As a matter of fact, she’s worried if shit goes down, he’ll be stuck here.”
“T”—Patrick grips my shoulder—“reel it in ’cause you’re kind of losing all of us in this.”
I throw my hands in the air. “I don’t know, okay? But from what I gather, it’s his asshole friends who get off on this, not him.”
“He could say no,” Patrick says in a calming tone.
“Well, whatever this is, Justice, it’s a one and done fight. Because that bitch, as you called her last night, seems to be worried you’ll get wrapped up in it, too.”
Tris asks, “Anyone ever consider that’s their intention?”
Silence.
“This is crazy,” Max says, looking around the rental as we put away a week’s worth of groceries for a one-night crew-cation that our parents agreed to allow us to have, away from their watchful eyes. We did have to agree it was just us in the rental property, that we would keep the partiers across the street at the beach, and that we’d stay away from any illegal shit that went down. The insurance that we would play by their rules? It was rented in Momma Joe’s name, holding her liable.
Apparently, Mom talked to Dad and Momma Joe about my breakdown, and then they all got together and decided if we’d be living in the midst of this lifestyle, as they apparently had at our age, then we should be given some leeway.
This here was a lot of leeway to be given by our over-the-top protective fathers.
Evidently, Justice pushed for us to have tonight and also mentioned that the eight of us, together, are more responsible as a crew than they were. We’ve proven it. Obviously, they didn’t know we bent a few rules and broke a few laws last weekend when Brisa, at fifteen, was driving around Jersey and kissing on bikers, but whatever. And they obviously didn’t know about the fight tonight and that would be the real reason Justice, my perfect brother, pushed for tonight, because he wasn’t sure what his face would look like later, and he didn’t want to freak Mom out.
I didn’t tell him that I ensured his face would be fine.
“Anyone hungry?” Amias, who was always hungry, asked, opening the cooler with steaks in it.
“We eat after the fight,” Patrick says, kicking it shut.
“You better let him eat something,” Tris warns. “Boy gets hangry AF.”
“I’ll be fine.” Amias nearly pouts.
“Want some of my nuts?” Max jokes, holding out a can of almonds.
“Sick fuck,” Amias says, snatching it from him.
“Don’t worry; manscaped them bitches. You won’t be picking hair out from between your pearly whites like Nina did the other day.”
“Max!” Kiki yells. “Gross.”
“Which is why I shaved,” he says, ducking when Kiki chucks a throw pillow at him, then finishes with, “my nuts.”
Laughing, she launches another one.
I watch them out of the corner of my eye as I look up all the things a boxer should do before a fight.
“What time’s this thing start and when will it be over?” Kiki asks from the couch.
“Haven’t gotten the alert yet,” Brisa, who’s been staring at her phone since we got here, says.
“Won’t last long.” Justice smirks then tosses some berries in his mouth.
“Which is bullshit, because you need to hydrate and piss like crazy and stop drinking water an hour and twenty before the fight.”
“Was it like midnight last time?” Patrick asks, plopping down beside Kiki and pulling her legs up onto his lap. “There’s no way you’re going, anyway, Mrs. Falcon.” He pulls one shoe off then the next, tossing them on the floor, and then begins to rub them.
“Have I ever told you you’re my favorite cousin, Tricks?” she says, lying back and sighing.
My phone lights up, a message from an unknown caller.
- Don’t spread this around, wanted JT to have the same heads-up I have. We’re doing this at nine, same place as last week. Go to the main lot this time, follow the driveway around back. Park there. Use the back door.
My heart races a bit as I type back, hoping I know the answer but wanting to be sure.
- Who is this?
I see the message has been read but, after a few seconds, my anxiety is through the roof.
When the message finally pops up, I smile as I read it.
- Tonight’s entertainment
Without thinking, I type back:
- Are we okay?
- What do you mean, we?
I feel like I’m going to throw up as I message him back, but after what Gabrielle said, how I feel, and what I know about him, I don’t want to play games anymore. I want … him.
When I’m about to hit send, a message from him pops up.
- Your father thinks I pissed my pants because there was a wet spot on my jea
ns. I didn’t correct him and tell him his daughter left it there. After tonight, we’re even. No favors owed by either of us, and WE go back to how WE began. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you.
If hearts were balls, I’d know exactly what it feels like to be kicked in them right now.
Attempting to delete my embarrassing AF text, I hit send.
I die a little inside when I see it’s been delivered, but when I see it’s read, and I see him replying, I feel a tinge of hope.
I close my eyes and send up a prayer. I know it’s selfish, but I truly feel like there is something between us. It’s been gradually building since the night he was a dick about me being at his place. Further proof was in the dark last night. He was rock hard for me and holding back. I’m sure that was for me, too. I know he likes me … more than likes me. And after what Gabrielle said, I’m sure it’s up to me to push it along.
I open my eyes and read the screen.
- Not. Ever. Gonna. Happen
As if deleting the entire message chain will make it go away, I do just that.
Unfortunately, I still feel it, and it freaking hurts.
I clear my throat as I look for the bathroom, or somewhere to escape, as I announce, “Nine o’clock. Same place as last week. Different parking lot.”
“Fuck yes!” Patrick cheers.
“Fuck yes.” Justice laughs.
Inside the bathroom, I look in the mirror, begging my eyes not to shed a tear, pleading with my heart to stop hurting, and praying he messages me back and tells me something different.
But tears fall, my heart hurts, and … he doesn’t.
When the bathroom door is opened, I quickly turn on the faucet and begin splashing my face.
“Give me a minute,” I say, hoping my voice sounds normal and not pathetic.
When I look up, Kiki and Brisa are standing behind me.
“You’re gonna say you’re driving the girls.” Kiki steps forward and wipes under my eyes. “Because I’m going to be by your side—”
“No way, Kiki. It’s—”
“Don’t wanna hear it.” She pulls me into a hug.
“You can’t. You and Tris time, remeb—.” My voice breaks.
“She’s not gonna rush the stage. I’m sure we’ll have our own little corner. Plus, this way, you can get White Claw wasted, and she can drive home.” Brisa hugs me, too.
“Brand will kill you and me.” I sniff.
“He’ll understand.”
I pull back. “Then tell him before we go.”
She scowls at me as she wipes the rest of my tears. “I will … on the way.”
“Justice is gonna be fine, Truth.” Brisa rubs my back.
“She knows,” Kiki says and pouts out her bottom lip. She gives me one of those looks, one that says, I see what you’re going through, and I’m here.
“Oh my God, you’re in love.” Brisa claps.
I shake my head.
“Oh, Truth.” Brisa hugs me. “Be happy. Now you know what it feels like. And trust me; you’ll get over it, just like I did with Ranger.”
Kiki covers her mouth so she doesn’t laugh, and I smile for the first time since the text.
She steps back and grabs my face. “Fuck. Them.”
I sigh and say it back, “Fuck. Them.”
Stepping out of my vehicle, Kiki’s phone rings, again.
“You’ve reached Katherine Falcon, who loves her hot, sexy, and supportive as fuck husband as much as she loves and supports him, or he gets no fucks for the imminent future. Press one if you’re done acting like my father, and press two if you’re calling to tell me to have a good night and that you love me more than anything in this world. Beep.”
“I’m not fucking around, Katherine.”
She hangs up.
“Seems to be handling it well,” Brisa jokes as we walk toward the boys.
“Oh, hell no,” Max says as soon as he sees her.
Her phone rings, and she stops, holds up her finger to Max for him to stop, and answers her phone. “Again, you’ve reached Katherine Steel.” She pauses then adds, “Falcon, who is on her last nerve, and all you fuckers”—she points toward the boys—“are to shut it down. I’m eighteen, a senior in high school who, up until ten damn phone calls ago, was sure she wasn’t gonna miss a thing, that just like Miley fucking Cyrus, I could indeed have the best of both worlds, but now she’s going on pissed off, and the entire night with my crew is going to be wasted because my mood fucking sucks. And let me tell you, if I see a wrecking ball in this place, I’m gonna ride that bitch just to show all you overprotective men-children, who think they need to take care of me and the baby growing in my belly, who I love more than any of you, that I’m still me!”
She gasps at whatever Brand says in response. “Did you seriously just threaten to call my father?” She looks at all of us. “Airplane mode. Now.” She gasps again then her bottom lip pops out. “Well, I didn’t know you were coming home early.” She makes a nasty face. “You know what you can do, Brand? You can go—”
I snatch the phone out of her hand and hold it up to my ear as he goes on and on about what he’s not going to do to her tonight, and it involves chocolate and strawberries.
“Brand … Brand … BRAND!”
“Who the hell is this?”
“It’s Truth.”
“Hey, Truth, how are you?” he asks, trying to sound calm.
“I’m—”
“Wanna give the phone back to my fucking wife!”
I hold it out to her.
She shakes her head. “He’s all yours.”
“Did she just say—”
“Yeah.”
“I’m an hour from home, Truth, and since you’re my favorite and I know you and I are real close, do me a favor and text me the address, will ya?”
“Um—”
“Truth, I will buy you any car you want. I’ll buy you a fucking pony, a house, a—”
“Um—”
“Truth, I’m trying to be real calm here, but she has that thing with her heart.”
“Oh, man,” I whisper.
“Yeah,” he says. “Easy enough to forget when it’s not your responsibility and fucking honor to protect.”
I turn my back to them and whisper, “I’ll try, but you can’t show up here, looking all you. That would be bad, and this thing probably isn’t on the up and up, so you don’t need to be involved.”
“Okay, I get it. Just send me the address so I know where she is if she needs me.”
“Fair enough,” I whisper. “Don’t make me regret it.”
“Remember, anything you want is yours.”
“Not necessary.”
“I love you the most, Truth. Like seriously probably more than my wife right now.”
“Love you back. Bye.”
I hear Kiki clear her throat behind me and turn to find her glowering.
“What did he promise you? A car, a horse, a house, a million dollars?”
“Just the first three.” I shrug.
“Should have held out for the million.” She shakes her head.
“He’s worried about your heart, Kiki, and here I was, not even thinking about—”
“Gotta take care of yours, too.”
I shrug.
“You’re gonna give him the address, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know? Maybe you should? You know, avoid missing out on all those things he said he was not going to do to you.”
“He what?” She tries not to laugh.
“Yeah, he thought I was you until I yelled his name, but the strawberry and chocolate thing sounded pretty freaking epic.” I laugh, handing her the phone. “Just call him. He knows he can’t show up here.”
She takes the phone and hugs me tight. “You are the best, Truth. Like seriously, whoever wins you over is going to be the luckiest, most loved, and most sexually satisfied man on the planet.”
“What?” I laugh.
“I can’t wait to t
ell Brand your idea about the strawberries and chocolate, you sexy little minx.”
When I see Tobias walk past us, I know damn well why she said that. And when Downward Dee walks past me, following him in her stripper attire, I want to puke.
She steps back. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I shrug. “Fuck them, right?”
Chapter Eighteen
Idiom
Fighting an uphill battle.
Truth
I think I can, I think I can, I think….
Guilt consumes me that I’ve allowed myself to think of my bullshit for even a second, that Justice is in this because of me, even though he seems to be on top of the world.
I don’t leave Justice’s side as he warms up and as he shadow boxes with Patrick, who’s wearing coach type punching mitts and talking shit to him to get him riled up. I stand as close to him as I can without getting hit.
Justice is smiling the whole time. He seems to be loving this; happier than I’ve ever seen him. A teeny, tiny part of me wishes Dad was here to see him.
“Look at my feet, T. Am I doing it right?” he jokes.
“Floating like a butterfly.” I smile.
“You ready to sting like a bee?” Patrick asks.
He reaches over the mitt and taps Patrick on the side of the head. “After this fight, we’re gonna have a dance off, T, me, and you, and I’m gonna kick your ass.”
“How about we save that for when my boot comes off?”
“Hell no.” He throws a few punches. “If I’m gonna kick your ass, you gotta leave that thing on.”
Patrick is working him good. He watched Tobias’s fight last week, so he knows some of his moves. But what he doesn’t know is I have a deal, and Tobias isn’t going to mess with his face.
“Patrick, move to body shots,” I tell him.
“You sure, T? He was all about the—”
“Justice needs to tire him out and avoid as many punches as he can. Tobias doesn’t wanna be in that ring any longer than he has to be. He’s out to bring him down with one punch. The face isn’t the only place he can do that. He needs to protect his ribs and his stomach.”
