Make It Count

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Make It Count Page 7

by Megan Erickson


  Kat zoned out while they were talking, and eventually, Alec left for class, his gaze lingering on her as he said his good-byes.

  Once he left, Max pulled out his phone, tapping away. Kat continued her musings, bestowing Max with the title Maggot Manager. She choked on a laugh and Max looked up, quirking an eyebrow at her.

  “Hairball,” she explained.

  He did that head-shaking thing he always did when she said something weird. Which was a lot.

  “Hey Max,” a female voice called from over her shoulder.

  Kat turned around. A fairly pretty girl, her face a little on the long side, with brown curly hair, stood behind her, eyes darting between Max and Kat.

  “Oh, hey, Carrie.” Max put down his phone—a miracle—and smiled at her.

  “How are you?” she asked.

  Max nodded. “Good, you?”

  “Good.”

  Stimulating conversation, really.

  “Hi, I’m Kat,” she said brightly.

  Carrie sent Max another searching look before meeting Kat’s eyes. “Oh hey. I’m Carrie. I went to high school with Max . . . and Alec.”

  “Oh cool! I didn’t.” Kat quipped and Carrie stared at her like she was on another planet.

  “Is Alec with you guys?” Carrie asked, returning her gaze to Max.

  “No, he just left,” Max answered.

  Carrie nodded. “Okay, well, just wanted to say hi. Talk to you later.” She turned to walk away and Kat waved at her back.

  “Super friendly,” Kat said. “She have a crush on Alec or something?”

  Max tapped the table. “Uh, no. She and Alec were together. In high school. They broke up last summer, before junior year.”

  “Ooooh,” Kat drawled, turning around to catch another sight of the ex-girlfriend, but she was already out of sight. That was Alec’s type? “What’s her major?” she asked, still craning her neck for a glimpse of Carrie.

  “Um . . . biology, I think. She wants to be a physical therapist.”

  Kat turned back around and huffed, glaring at her coffee. That’s the kind of girl Alec chose. Smarties like Carrie, who would fit into his life.

  She looked over at Max. He wasn’t perfect, far from it. But there was no danger of falling for him and so no danger of getting her heart broken.

  But Alec was different. In the way he looked at her, in the way he treated her, in the way he made her feel like she was something special. Not just another pretty girl with mediocre intelligence.

  Which was why she had to keep her chips with Max. The safe bet. If she tried playing Alec’s numbers, she didn’t know how she’d keep from going all in. And then losing it all.

  Chapter Eight

  PROFESSOR GRIM STOOD at the front of the classroom, her arm extended to draw an imaginary line down the center of the room, between the four rows of seats.

  “This side,” she said, pointing to Alec’s section, “will be in charge of the prosecution for the cases I hand out, and the other side will be in charge of defense.”

  She plopped a packet of papers down on the first desk in Alec’s column. “Pick a case, then a partner in the other column of seats.” Then she did the same on the other side of the room.

  Alec was in the last row and grabbed the last packet he was passed, then turned to Danica, beside him. “Hey, partner.”

  “Who said I wanted to work with you?” Today, she was some sort of angel, with a flowing cream-colored dress, white-blonde hair and impossibly blue eyes.

  He ignored her and instead focused on what case they’d have to argue. He skimmed the handout, and the words death by vehicle and distracted driver each sent a heavy brick slamming into his gut.

  “Fuck,” he whispered.

  “What’s up? Crappy case? I wanna win,” Danica said, reaching her hand out. “Gimme.”

  He handed over the papers, keeping his eyes on his desk, not risking a look at those unnatural blue eyes.

  “Okay,” Professor Grim said from the front of the classroom. “I’m going to let you go for the rest of our class time. I’d prefer you take this time to work with your partners or set up future meeting times to read the material and begin your cases.”

  Alec was barely listening, his mind swirling with the thoughts of arguing a case similar to the one he’d seen played out when he was six years old. The case that made him want to be a lawyer.

  He hadn’t thought about that case in years, and he didn’t want to.

  Danica didn’t look at him as she read out loud. “Oh, this is a good one. Lisa Stevens was driving in a construction zone where two lanes merged into one. She ran through several cones and hit the foreman, killing him. Makeup residue was found on the steering wheel and in her car and her phone history had been deleted. But records were pulled and she’d been texting. They are charging her with homicide by vehicle and tampering with evidence. She’s claiming she was distracted by something in her eye. Wow, this is a cool case.”

  Her words were like more bricks in every vulnerable part of his body. “Fuck,” he said again, letting his head thunk onto his desk as the sounds of exiting students clamored around him.

  “Stone?” Danica was too perceptive. A hand settled on his back, long nails curling to dig through his shirt. “Hey,” she said quietly. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  He took a deep breath and stood up, lifting the strap of his messenger back over his shoulder so it crossed his chest. Danica slipped her arm in his as they left the classroom. She didn’t say anything as they walked down the hall and pushed out of the doors into the chilly air, leading him to some stone benches among a grove of trees.

  Unlinking her arm from his, she pushed him down onto the bench. The cold of the stone seeped through his jeans and a hole in the back pocket he had meant to patch. He shifted and the skin scraped on the rough surface. The bite of pain focused him, breaking him out of his memories, so he dug his fingers into his thighs to prolong the hurt.

  Danica took a gulp from her water bottle and handed it to Alec. He wasn’t really thirsty, but took a drink anyway. She didn’t say anything, and that was really the only reason he was able to speak, because there was no pressure.

  “My dad died when I was five. He was a cop. Pulled a guy over on the side of the road. Some drunk asshole hit him while he was walking between cars.”

  “Oh shit,” Danica whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  “That’s why I’m not really thrilled to be arguing this case.” He rubbed his palms together, the skin red from the cold because he’d forgotten his gloves at home.

  Danica stood up.

  “Where are you going?”

  She fiddled with the strap of her bag. “I’m going to talk to Grim. I’ll get us another case—”

  “No.” Alec said firmly. “No.”

  “But—”

  “Dan, when I’m practicing law, what am I going to do? Say, ‘no cases involving cops and car accidents’? I can’t do that. Just . . . let’s do this, okay, and let’s win the fucker.”

  Danica pressed her lips together and nodded. “Okay.”

  ALEC ARRIVED HOME that afternoon after the last of his classes for the day. As he trudged up the stairs, Max’s voice carried through his bedroom door, increasing in volume.

  He didn’t hear another voice, so he figured Max was on the phone. That guess was confirmed when he heard a strained, “Dad.”

  Alec cringed. Jack Payton was one scary motherfucker. He was huge, looked like he could carry an eighteen-wheeler on his shoulders and had a wicked scar on his face caused by a failed jack while he was working under a car.

  But his appearance wasn’t the scary part. It was the way he ruled over his three sons like a dictator. As the youngest, Max received the worst of it, since his mother had left after he was born. Alec had heard Mr. Payton lob the word “mistake” at Max more than once.

  He owned Payton Auto in their hometown of Tory, and enlisted Max’s help almost every weekend and every summer, despite M
ax’s protests. Alec couldn’t mention oil change without inducing Max’s rage, but Max worked there anyway, needing the money for school.

  And because no one said no to Jack Payton. Not without consequences.

  As Alec reached the top of the stairs, a loud crash sounded from inside Max’s room. He rushed to the door, about to throw it open, but thought better of it. He knocked. “Max?”

  No answer, but he thought he heard a moan.

  “Max, answer me now or I’m coming in. Are you okay?”

  There was a pause, followed a muttered, “Fine.”

  “I’m coming in anyway.” Alec turned the doorknob and swung the door open. Max sat hunched in front of his small closet, a hole punched through the thin plywood door.

  Alec took a deep breath. In the past, he’d have known what to say and what to do. But Max had been volatile lately, his moods unpredictable, for a reason he hadn’t divulged. Alec decided against Compassionate Alec and went with Macho Skirt-the-Issue Alec.

  He nodded toward the closet door. “That’s going to come out of your security deposit.”

  Max snorted a wry laugh, and Alec wanted to pat himself on the back for picking the right persona. He sat down on the bed and rubbed his palms together. “Ol’ Jack being his charming self?”

  “Of course,” Max said softly. “He doesn’t know how to be anything else.”

  Alec waited until Max spoke again.

  “It’s cool, whatever. I can handle it.” Max shrugged and ran his hand through his hair. His knuckles were bleeding.

  Alec knew Max had school loans, but he didn’t know if Max’s father helped him with rent and other living expenses. Max’s family was the one no-go topic in their friendship.

  “Look, if I can—” Alec began as Max jerked his head up, lip curled, nostrils flared.

  “God, you think you can fix everything, don’t you?” Max sneered, his normally warm eyes now dull and cold. “Believe it or not, some things are past the powers of Alec Stone.”

  The bitter tone from his best friend pierced Alec’s skin like blades. His mouth dropped open. “Where the fuck did that come from?”

  Max stared at him for a minute before he rolled his jaw and looked away, running a hand over his face. “Sorry, forget I said anything, okay? I’m a little worked up. Wanna go grab a beer?”

  Alec had a sickening feeling he was missing something important, but he knew a peace offering when he heard one. “Sure.”

  Max gave him a weak smile. “Cool.”

  Chapter Nine

  “HEY MOM.” KAT lay on Max’s bed on her stomach, legs bent at the knee and crossed at the ankle in the air behind her, absentmindedly picking at a pull in his navy comforter.

  “Hello, Katía.” Her mother always called her by her full name. “How are you?”

  “Umm . . . good. Busy.”

  “Classes are going well?”

  Kat’s parents’ lack of alarm over her academic probation status was disconcerting.

  “Yeah, statistics is the class that’s tripping me up this semester.”

  It had been several weeks since the start of Kat’s tutoring sessions with Alec, and she hated to admit that she looked forward to them.

  But she did.

  Alec was patient with her, allowing her to study at her own pace. When he saw she was getting frustrated with the material, he’d make a joke or get her a smoothie. And worse, the more she got to know him, the more she enjoyed looking at him. When she got a particularly difficult concept down, she allowed herself that mental image of him stripped down to those black boxer briefs and sleep-roughened hair. As a well-deserved reward. “I have a tutor, though, Mom. That’s helping a lot.”

  “Well, if you don’t pass the class, it’s okay, sweetie. We miss you at home anyway and your father’s secretary is retiring soon.”

  Kat clenched her jaw and bit back a scream. She loved her close-knit Brazilian family, but sometimes they were smothering. She didn’t want to be a secretary. Not that there was anything wrong with that profession, but it wasn’t something she wanted to do and there was no way in hell she wanted to work for her father.

  It would be a nightmare. He’d constantly remark on her too-tight clothes—All buttons must be fastened, Katía—he’d try to hook her up with every bachelor within a fifty-mile radius, and she never would get his coffee right. Was it two creams and a sugar? Or a sugar and one regular cream and one flavored cream? Crap on a cracker, she was pretty sure—

  “Kat?” Her mom said. “You still there?”

  “Oh, yeah, sorry, Mom. Um, I’m working really hard not to fail out. I really want my degree.”

  “Okay, dear,” the placating tone was like nails on a chalkboard.

  “Hey, I gotta go. Tell Dad and Marcelo I said hi, all right?”

  “Sure. Your brother is featured in the local newspaper as a ‘Who to Watch’ businessman, by the way. I’ll e-mail you the link.”

  Flipping perfect Marc.

  “Sounds good, Mom. Thanks. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Kat tossed her phone onto the bed in frustration. Of course, Marc was encouraged to go to college and get his degree, while Kat was patted on the head, told she had a pretty smile and encouraged to date.

  But while it was easy for Kat to get dates, it was hard to hold on to anything long term. She told herself it was because she got bored easily and needed to move on. But really, it was because her boyfriends either found her sense of humor odd or grew tired of her wandering attention span.

  She saw how Alec looked at her. But she was some novelty now. Once she zoned out during the hundredth conversation or he realized what her brain was really like, he’d boot her out like all of them.

  Kat sighed and rose from the bed, then plodded her way down the stairs to the living room. Max was sitting on the couch, bent over a textbook with a highlighter. Cam was in the recliner, playing a video game with lots of explosions.

  Cam was cute, with his smooth tanned skin and black hair he kept just long enough to skate by his military regulations. He nodded and grinned at her as she walked by, flashing a dimple.

  “Hey,” Max said, looking up. “How’s your mom?”

  “Good. Marcelo has some important article in the newspaper she’s all excited about.”

  “Cool.”

  She reached for his glass of soda. “Can I have some of this?”

  “Sure.”

  The door to the kitchen swung open and Alec entered the living room.

  “Hey,” Kat said, acknowledging Alec’s nod of greeting.

  Cam blew up a car onscreen and then turned away from his game. “Hey, a friend of mine from high school is coming up next weekend. Wanna have a party here Saturday. You cool with that?” He asked his roommates.

  Max shrugged. “I don’t care. I have to go home that weekend though, to work for my dad.”

  “Doesn’t matter to me,” Alec said. “I’m not putting down the deposit for the keg, though.”

  Cam waved his hand. “Yeah, no problem, I’ll take care of it.”

  Kat finished off the soda in Max’s glass. She picked up the half-full can and began to pour the rest over the remaining ice.

  Shanna had a crush on Cam so she’d want to come to the party if Kat mentioned it. Kat, though, wasn’t such a fan of drinking. As a freshman, she had attended a fraternity party and drunk her face off. She woke up the next morning with a wicked headache, her underwear over top of her jeans, and no recollection of the evening. She vowed never again to drink that much. She was really good at pretending to be drunk, though. It was actually a lot of fun. It was an excuse to dance like a fool and giggle hysterically at jokes that weren’t really funny—

  “Earth to mother-fucking Kat!” Max bellowed as cool liquid splashed onto the leg of her jeans.

  Max roughly grabbed the can of soda from her hand, and she looked down to see that during her daydream, she had completely missed the glass and poured soda all over the coffee tab
le. Oh sugar-snacks.

  “Jesus Christ!” Max said, tossing the now empty can behind him and hurrying to clean up his papers off the soda-sticky coffee table. “Do you ever watch what you’re doing? Shit, now my book is all wet, and the resale value is going to suck.”

  “I’m so sorry. I just kinda . . .” She waved her hand as she jumped up, “zoned out. I’ll clean it up. I’m sorry.” She bit her lip and looked at Max, but he wasn’t looking at her, his brows furrowed as he studied the damage to his textbook.

  Alec appeared at her side, a roll of paper towels in hand. He ripped off several sheets and began wiping up the soda.

  “I’ll do that, Alec. I’m the stupid one who spilled it,” Kat said, taking the roll out of his hand.

  He frowned at her. “It’s not a big deal. It was an accident. It’s soda, not acid.”

  “You can say that when it’s not your textbook, asshole,” Max muttered.

  Alec jerked his head up and fixed his roommate with a glare. “I’m pretty sure I’m not the one being an asshole right now.”

  “It’s not your girlfriend who’s a flake.”

  Alec rose slowly, his spine straight, hands clenched at his sides. “Chill the fuck out, Max. It’s a fucking book. What’s with you?”

  “Yeah, dude, calm down. It’s not like Kat did it on purpose.” Cam chimed in.

  Max grumbled unintelligibly.

  Kat ignored the words around her and hurriedly wiped up the rest of the soda. She carried the dripping paper towels into the kitchen, dumped them into the trash bin, and then carried the overflowing bag out the back door to the carport to toss into the can.

  The door opened and closed behind her.

  “Why do you let him talk to you like that?” The anger in Alec’s tone was clear.

  Kat froze, her back to him. She straightened and turned slowly. “Excuse me? I don’t let him do anything.”

  “Yeah?” Alex shot back. “Then what the fuck was that in there? Why don’t you speak up for yourself?”

  Kat shrugged in what she hoped was nonchalance, but the movements felt too jerky and Alec was too observant to fall for it. “It doesn’t matter. He’s just teasing mostly.” She brushed her hair over her shoulder and made to walk past him.

 

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