Sure, how our uncle treated us bothered Dizzy too, but my brother and I weren’t wired the same way. Dizzy buried his feelings deep and was content to live his life on the superficial level. I hadn’t yet developed that knack. The little-girl part of me kept chipping at the ice around my uncle’s heart, feeling colder and number every time he rejected me. I retreated, not because I chose to, but because I was forced to.
Uncle Bruce shook his head, scowling. “No, Lace. What I want is for you to go back to bed. This is my house. The situation what it was with your mother, I stepped up and gave you and your brother a place to stay. But only until you’re of age.”
“Thank you for that. For everything,” I murmured, like I had many times before.
“While you’re here,” he said sharply, pointing a finger at me, “you need to remember that you have your space, and I have mine. It works that way. Understand?”
“Yes.” I gathered my drawing pad and my pencils to my chest. “Sorry.” Standing, I ducked my chin and quickly padded away from him across the chilly floor.
“Lace,” he called softly.
I turned around, my heart beating fast and my expression hopeful.
“Remember, this arrangement with you living here is only temporary.”
“Just until I graduate.” My heart slowed and my expression fell. “I remember.” Swallowing the bitterness, I retreated once more.
• • •
War
I stumbled up the front steps to my place. Jazzed up on too much coke and not enough sedatives to slow my adrenaline, I cursed silently at how my legs shook and my hand trembled. It took me three attempts to insert my key in the lock.
Inside the small tile entryway, I turned to close the door and quickly twisted the three deadbolts. At the sound of light footsteps, I froze, hoping my mother would turn aside and go into the kitchen rather than approach me.
“Warren?”
Yeah, I wasn’t surprised I got the opposite of what I’d hoped for and got served a big pile of shit instead. Hope was a sorry son of a bitch. He didn’t like me.
“You smell like pot and cheap perfume.” She frowned as she looked me over. Being on the receiving end of her attention was like being doused in ice water. A total buzz kill. “Do you know what time it is?”
“It’s three fucking a.m.,” I snapped, pissed that she’d ruined my high by giving me the business.
“We have an agreement.” Her thin brows drew together beneath a tangle of messy hair that was the same mixture of dark and light brown as my own.
“You talked. I don’t remember agreeing to anything.”
“You get in trouble again,” she said, her coppery eyes glistened in irritation, “you’re going to end up right back in jail.”
“Not going back there.” I’d fucking die first.
“Where were you?” she asked, her delicate features pinched.
“You know where I was.” I pulled the bandanna from my head and stuffed it into my pocket.
I was a disappointment. I’d always be that to her. But what I didn’t do was lie to her. The piece of shit married to someone else who knocked her up with me had done plenty of that.
“Kyle’s not a good influence.”
“He isn’t an influence at all.” I used him like I used everyone to meet my goals. After all, if I didn’t look out for myself, who the fuck would?
“Was Bryan with you?” she asked.
“No, we parted ways after the party at Dizzy’s house.”
“You should hang out more with Bryan. He’s a good son. Respects his mom, loves his sisters, and he’s loyal to you.” My mother twisted her hands so tightly around the TV remote that her fingers blanched.
Her dispensing unwanted advice was both unexpected and uncomfortable. I could count on one hand the number of times she’d pretended to give a shit about me.
“I respect you,” I bit out.
“Right, sure,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Fuck it. I frowned. “Bry’s not the saint you think he is.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her it had been Bryan’s idea to hotwire my old man’s car, and him who had crashed it, but I bit back that bitter truth. I wasn’t a pathetic little boy desperate for his mommy’s approval.
“Sorry to be such a burden to you.” My lips pulled back from my teeth.
“Warren, let’s start over . . .”
I was done doing this bullshit dance with her. I’d been done a long time ago. Her keeping my old man’s identity a secret from me after I’d begged for a name had been the last straw. She worked hard, and I respected her for that. But I didn’t let her anywhere near my black and unsalvageable heart anymore.
“You do your thing, Mother, and I’ll do mine,” I said, bitterness creeping into my voice. “After graduation, I’m gone.”
It would only be a year and a handful of months.
Sooner, if the band hit it big.
Lace
The morning after the party, I didn’t see Bryan or War when I arrived at school. Must not have made much of an impression on either one. After a sleepless night, and a reminder from Uncle Bruce about being an unwanted burden, I was in a pretty bad mood, so it was better that I didn’t see them.
After a quick stop at my locker, I hurried down the hall with the masses. I filed into Mr. Schubert’s classroom with the other students as the first bell rang, but found my path to an empty seat in the back row blocked by Randy.
“Step aside, please.” I ground out the words.
Stepping closer, he said firmly, “Go out with me.”
“No.” Annoyed, I glared up at him. “I made myself clear on that matter yesterday.”
His lips curled into a sneer. “Things are different today.”
“Different how?”
“Today I know your standards are appallingly low.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Angry, I tightened my grip on my backpack straps.
“Warren Jinkins is what I mean. He’s a loser and an asshole. Don’t you get that?”
“He’s not a loser.” I cranked up my chin. “Unless by loser, you mean he’s not a spoiled, entitled prick like you.”
“Burn!” came from our classmates, along with some hisses.
How wonderful—insert sarcasm. Everyone is watching.
“Warren is the prick,” Randy said, still hammering at me. “Acting all into you at your house, then having Missy Rivera suck his dick afterward.”
“What?” I whispered as my stomach lurched.
“You heard me.” Randy’s gaze took on a spiteful gleam. “If you get off on being treated like shit,” he said, getting so close I had to crane my neck to keep his face in view, “I can certainly oblige you.”
Foolish, Lace, letting War kiss you and thinking that it meant anything.
“Screw you, Randy.”
My eyes stung and I blinked back tears. I wanted to run away and hide, but I also wanted to lash out. What Randy said in front of everyone was humiliating, and it hurt. More than it should have. Yet I clenched my hands into fists and held my ground.
Sudden, unexpected warmth hit my back. I turned my head, then cranked my chin up. Way up.
Chad from the party gave me a grim nod and then shifted his gaze to Randy.
“Stay out of this, Phillips,” Randy told him.
“Quit being an asshole,” Chad said, not seeming to care or was unaffected by the threat Randy represented.
Randy’s expression turned thunderous. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“Lace is a nice girl.” Chad kept his voice even as he gave my shoulders a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “She’s my friend, and you’re bullying her just because she refused to go out with you. So I guess what they say about bullies is true.”
“Which is what?” Randy asked.
I wanted to smile. He’d fallen right into the word trap, not bothering to deny he was a bully.
“Only people who are unhappy with themselves
are mean to others,” Chad said simply, and I nodded at his wise words. He was right.
Mr. Schubert loudly cleared his throat. “Class, take your seats. Show’s over. The bell has rung. Time to learn something.”
I shot Mr. Schubert a grateful look, and he gave me a nod.
Turning around to face Chad, I said, “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”
“You didn’t need a rescue. But you’re welcome.” He gestured to an empty desk, closer to the middle of the room than the back. “Wanna sit here beside me today?”
“Yeah, I would. Thanks.”
I took off my backpack and slid into the seat. He started unpacking his stuff, and I did the same.
“Tempest.” Mr. Shubert drew a line beneath the title he’d written on the blackboard. “Let’s begin this discussion with what we can learn from Shakespeare that’s relevant to today. Valerie.” He pointed with his chalk to a blonde in the front row wearing a cheerleading outfit. “Power and control. Calliban’s pursuit of justice. Is it subjective manipulation or personal revenge? What do you think?”
I zoned out as she babbled a reply about costumes in the movie production of the play that had absolutely nothing to do with Mr. Schubert’s question.
My mind spun as I kept replaying everything War had said. He’d come on strong. I didn’t understand why he’d made all the fuss, only to lose interest within hours. It didn’t make any sense, but maybe it wasn’t supposed to make sense.
When the bell rang, it surprised me. In a daze, I gathered my things. A shadow fell over me.
“Can I walk you to your next class?” Chad asked.
On any other day, I might have said no. I liked him as a friend, but I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. On the other hand, I didn’t want to be alone when I was feeling emotional and vulnerable.
“Sure.” I nodded.
“Want me to carry that?” His gaze dipped to my backpack.
“No, I have it.”
I was dense, obviously, given my mistake about where I ranked with a guy like War, which wasn’t at all, but I wasn’t totally clueless. Letting Chad carry my books would give the impression that he and I were romantically involved. After what happened with Warren, I decided I wasn’t going to be serious with any guy. They weren’t trustworthy.
“All right, if you’re sure.” Giving me a funny look, Chad gestured for me to precede him.
I slid the straps of my backpack into place and marched determinedly down the aisle. From now on, I was a one-woman show. No guy was going to mess with my head.
But as soon as I exited the classroom, I saw War and stumbled to a stop. Hurt careened around inside my chest, a possessed pinball inside a machine on bonus round.
“Hey, Lacey.” War pushed away from the row of lockers where he’d been leaning, obviously waiting for me. Another white T-shirt stretched distractingly across his pecs and wide shoulders as he moved toward me. Even in a hallway crowded with students, he was given the right of way. He stopped in front of me, his wallet chain swaying as he gave me a scan. “You look nice. I missed you.”
“Not all that much, apparently,” I said. My chest was glass too brittle to contain careening emotion.
His brown eyes narrowing, he glanced at Chad as if he were the problem, and frowned. “What the fuck, Phillips? You making a move on my girl?”
“Got no problem with you,” Chad said.
“You’re gonna have a problem with me if you don’t move away from her.”
“Not your girl, Warren,” I said stiffly, my arms and legs locked. “Not your anything.”
“You trembling in my arms when I kissed you last night says you are.” War stared down at me, a crease forming between his brows beneath the red bandanna tied around his head.
“I had an off night. I made a mistake. One I’m not going to repeat.” It tore me up more than it should have to look at him right now and know he’d been with someone else right after kissing me.
“Not a mistake.” His expression turned dark. “The best thing that ever happened to you is what you mean.”
“Listen, Warren.” I blew out a disbelieving breath at his arrogance. “Don’t take this the wrong way, since we’re going to be in a band together and all, but I’m not the right type of girl for you.”
“Don’t really care what you think.” His chin came up. Silken layers of dark and light brown hair slid forward to shadow his eyes as he peered down the length of his nose at me. “Told you how it was going to be last night.”
“Last night is over,” I said, noting his nose had a slight bump in it. Probably had been broken before. “You don’t tell me what to do or think, Warren Jinkins.” No matter how cute he was with his strong features and his broken nose, his authoritative bullshit rankled. “You don’t own me.”
“I do when my tongue is in your mouth.” He stepped closer, his movement so abrupt, his wallet chain slapped his thigh.
“It was just a stupid kiss.” I clenched my hands into fists, noticing we had an audience, this one bigger than the last one.
Oh joy. Insert more sarcasm. Only one class completed today, but I’d already had two very public confrontations with guys.
Having had enough, I leaned forward. “I’m done with guys today thinking they can intimidate me.”
“Who’s intimidating you?” The crease between War’s brows deepened. “I’m just trying to make you see—”
“Grrr! I see you, Warren. I get it. I’m not some stupid little slut who will drop to my knees and suck you off in a bathroom or anywhere else just because you’re handsome and you know how to kiss.”
“Lace.” His voice went low, and his eyes softened. “None of those other girls mean anything.”
What a bunch of crap.
I threw my hands in the air. “Not talking about this anymore. Stay away from me, Warren.” I stomped past him, pushing my way through the gathered crowd. A few patted me on the back. Spotting an exit door, I shoved it open and stepped outside.
Tears blurred my vision. Squeezing my eyes shut, I willed them away and leaned back against the wall, trying to calm down.
Breathe, Lace. In and out. You just need some fresh air.
Only I inhaled a lungful of cigarette smoke. Realizing I wasn’t alone, I opened my eyes to a noxious cloud, a familiar face just on the other side of it.
War
“Hold up.” A huge Latino guy grabbed my arm just as I was about to go after Lace. “You trying to claim Lace Lowell as yours?”
“Not trying to.” I frowned down at where he gripped me, then lifted my gaze. “She is mine.”
“Hate to be the one to break it to you, pendejo.” Dumbass. His expression and voice were amused. “But she didn’t get that memo.”
“Get your hand off me,” I growled, and he released me.
“I’d let her cool down for a moment if I were you, but it’s your call.”
“Who the fuck are you?” I narrowed my eyes. He looked somewhat familiar. “Why should I care what you think?”
My glare burned as hot as a solar flare, but his was cool, glittering gold. Under normal circumstances, I’d have laid him out, right at the beginning of our interchange without all the dialogue, but I wanted to know what the deal was between him and Lace.
“Name’s Juaquin Acenado.” He hooked a thumb toward his huge chest. “Most people just call me King. Heard your band’s short a percussionist.”
Wary, I nodded. “You heard right.”
“I’m the best drummer you’ll ever hear,” he said, and my brows rose. “I’m also Lace’s friend.”
“Wannabe boyfriend, you mean.” I took a step closer, rethinking the violence. I could jack him up if I needed to, even though he had at least fifty pounds on me. I had my rep for a reason.
“No.” He shook his head. “Though I’m not saying never on that. She’s tough as nails. Pretty. Smart too.”
Another interested party. Was there any guy in this school who didn’t already have a thing for her?
“Lace defended you in class today,” the basketball player said as he came closer. I’d noticed Chad hanging around while I was talking to the Latino, even though everyone else had taken off. The tardy bell ringing was imminent.
“Defended me how?” I asked, suddenly very interested.
“Randy gave her a hard time before class, in front of everyone.”
Ah, so that’s what she meant about guys intimidating her.
I fisted my hands, ignoring how the rings on my fingers cut into my skin. It was time that I had another word with that asshole. No switchblade, but it didn’t matter. My rings were effective for leaving cuts and bruises.
“When she turned him down again,” Chad said, “he laid into her about you being with Missy Rivera last night.”
My head snapped to the door Lace had gone through. So that was it, why she was pushing me away. She knew about Missy and me. Fucking shit.
“Randy called you a loser and some other stuff that set her off. She defended you in front of the whole class and put him in his place. She didn’t back down an inch.”
“Didn’t back down yesterday either.” Long layers of King’s black hair moved with his head as he nodded approvingly. “Even though Belinda pulled a blade on her.”
My eyes grew wide. Something warm and unfamiliar burned inside them, and inside my chest too. No one besides Bryan had ever defended me.
“May have to rethink my not-now and throw in a bid for Lace too,” King said in his slightly accented voice. “That white girl is the shit.”
“Lace thinks you’re worth defending.” Chad got in my face, staring down at me. “So be worth defending.”
“You thinking you have a play with her?” I asked, giving him back the attitude he was serving me, but also holding my breath as I waited on his reply. I’d seen the soft way she’d looked at him at the party before I made my move.
“I think Lace is her own person,” Chad said, not really answering. “And if I, or you, or anyone else,” he glanced pointedly at Juaquin, “wants a shot with her, they better treat her right.”
Southside High Page 7
