Southside High

by Mankin, Michelle

  Her eyes narrowed. “He’s not my date. We’re just friends.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I said cattily. “You have a lot of those.”

  “Sadly, yes. They never seem to get over me. Once they have a taste, they keep coming back for more.” She lifted her chin and gave me a withering glare. “War and Bry both, but then apparently you know all about it.”

  I knew that I wanted to claw those ice-blue eyes out of her head.

  “Lace, hey.” Bryan put his arm around me, and his touch smoothed the bristles. “Let’s go see the movie. Eat some popcorn.” He turned me away from her. “’Bye, Missy,” he said, dismissing her without looking directly at her.

  “I don’t like her,” I grumbled.

  “That’s obvious.” His voice was funny. Glancing at him, I saw that he was amused. “It’s not funny, Bry.”

  “It is, Lace. It’s cute that you’re jealous of her. But I mean, c’mon.” He shrugged a thickly muscled shoulder. “She’s okay, but she’s not even in your league. No guy is going to look at her twice, let alone choose her, if his other option is you.”

  My previous irritation drained away. “You truly think so?”

  “I know so.”

  “Thank you.” My lips curving, I shook my head at him.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

  “I had an awful day. Bombed the SAT. Nearly got into it just now with my ex-boyfriend’s side piece.” Bryan’s too, unfortunately. “But somehow, despite all that, you managed to make me feel better.” I let out a breath and then gave him a little more truth. “In all my worst moments, you’ve made a difference just by being there.”

  “Anything for you, Lace,” he said softly, and I wished with all my heart that were true.

  I didn’t want just any guy to choose me.

  I wanted Bryan to.

  Lace

  “Thanks for the ride, man,” Bryan said to Chad, leaning in the open window on my side of the truck.

  “No problem. It was fun. Let’s do it again. Soon.”

  “Absolutely.” Bryan tipped his chin to me. “Lace, you wanna come up? See my mom and say hi to my sisters?”

  My eyes brightened. “Sure, but . . .” Conflicted, I turned to Chad with the question in my eyes, and he waved me off.

  “Go ahead. I’m beat. Sugar coma from too much candy. Just gonna go straight home after this and crash.”

  “Okay. Thanks for tonight. It was just what I needed.” Unbuckling my belt, I laid one hand on Chad’s cheek and kissed the other. “You’re a great friend.”

  “Just following your example,” he said with a grin, his eyes twinkling.

  “C’mon, Lace.” The wind lifting his brown hair, Bryan flipped up the lapels of his black leather jacket to cover his ears. “I’m freezing out here.”

  “Okay.” I scooted across the seat.

  Bryan opened the door for me, and I got out. We both returned Chad’s wave, watching the truck headlights for a moment as he drove off.

  “I like him,” Bryan said.

  “Me too.”

  “Good you have a friend outside the band.”

  “He’s my only one outside the band.” Shivering, I wondered if being cast out of the group would cost me all my friendships with the guys. Uneasy, I pulled the unbuttoned edges of my wool car-length coat together.

  “You look cold.” Bryan’s brow creased in concern. “Better get you inside.”

  “Yeah, that would be good.” I hitched the strap of my bag higher on my shoulder, and Bryan put his hand on my lower back.

  “This way.” He guided me toward the building, a high-rise. Opening the door, he gestured for me to precede him. As we crossed the lobby, I had the thought that he might have grown up without a father around, but he wasn’t lacking in gentlemanly manners. He always treated me with respect and care.

  “Our apartment is on the second floor.” At the elevator, Bryan pushed the button and returned his hand to the small of my back.

  It wasn’t possible for me to feel the heat of his palm through my wool coat and the dress I wore underneath it, but somehow, I did.

  “I’ll bet you hear a lot of street noise.”

  “Yeah, but we got a three-bedroom for half the rent of the units higher up.”

  “That’s a good deal. Do you have your own bedroom now?”

  “I do.”

  “That’s cool.” I gave him a furtive look. “Do you think your mom will mind you bringing me up without telling her first?”

  “She’ll love the surprise.”

  The elevator dinged, the door slid open, and he steered me inside. Not as certain as he was, I avoided my anxious reflection in the glass.

  Bryan’s mother had been more like a real one to me than my own. She’d often invited Dizzy and me to share meals with Bryan and his sisters, meals that had kept us from starving. She’d also been the one to call the cops the night of the Metallica concert. If it hadn’t been for her, I might have been raped.

  She’d cared for Dizzy and me when no one else had, treating us like we were her own children. But maybe we’d only been a burden. Why had she never invited us—me—to visit here? I suspected she thought I was a bad influence on her son, that being associated with me would lead him away from his goals, rather than helping him achieve them.

  Bryan pointed. “Just to the end of the hall.”

  “Okay.”

  I kept pace with him. At the door, he stopped to pull out his keys. I heard laughter inside and his mother’s voice.

  “Hey, everyone,” Bryan called out after throwing open the door. “I have a surprise for you.” He gave me a gentle push to put me in front of him.

  “Hi. Surprise.” Holding up my hand, I waved it in the air.

  His sisters shrieked.

  “Lace!” Miriam shouted, flying at me, her ebony hair trailing behind her.

  I rocked back on my booted heels as she threw her arms around me. “Hey,” I said, warmth filling my chest. “Let me have a look at you.”

  “Sure.” She drew back, and my eyes widened.

  “You’re beautiful. Practically grown up now.”

  “Thank you.” She beamed a smile at me, then turned to gesture to her sibling. “This is Ann.”

  “Oh my goodness, so it is. Are you little Annie?” I asked, the blond girl hanging back behind her taller, black-haired sibling.

  “Not little anymore.” Beneath her wire-rimmed glasses, Ann’s cheeks blushed.

  “No, you’re not,” I said. “You’re practically grown up.”

  “So are you, Lace.” Bryan’s mother came forward. In her mid-thirties and still strikingly pretty, she had a dish towel over her shoulder and was wearing her hospital scrubs. “You’re as beautiful as Bry said you were.” Her brows drew together between gray-green eyes like her son’s.

  “Thank you.” I glanced at Bryan, surprised that he’d been talking about me to her. He only shrugged.

  “Come in.” His mom turned. “Don’t just stand in the entryway. Have a seat in the living room. I was just getting ready to take a cake out of the oven. Would you like a piece?”

  “No, thank you,” I said, walking beside Bryan as we followed everyone in.

  “Let me have your coat,” he said.

  “Sure.” Turning, I allowed him to help me get it off.

  A warm shiver rolled through me as his hands, feeling like a caress, skimmed my shoulders. Inside the kitchen, his mom frowned as she watched us.

  “We ate a ton of junk food at the movie.” Bryan arranged both our coats, his over mine, on the back of one of the dining chairs while I took a seat on the couch. The shape and feel of it was familiar, even after all these years, but it had a new slipcover on it.

  “This is nice.” I gestured. “Having the living-dining-kitchen space connected.”

  “It works well for us.” Plates with cake on them in her hands, his mother exited the kitchen and placed the dishes on the dining table. “Come and get it, you two.�
�

  “Yum,” Ann said, moving to the table.

  “I wanna visit with Lace.” Miriam stayed where she was in the easy chair beside me.

  “Miriam Diana Jackson,” her mother snapped. “Eat your cake. You can visit Lace sitting at the table.”

  “Okay, Mom,” she grumbled, tapping my knee as she scooted past me. “I like your dress, and those fishnet hose with the boots are killer.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled.

  “Did you sew the dress yourself?” Mrs. Jackson asked, taking the seat Miriam had abandoned while Bryan sat next to me on the couch.

  “No,” I said. “Just did a little hem work.”

  “Looks like you remembered the stitch pattern I showed you.”

  “I remember everything you taught me.”

  Mrs. Jackson glanced up. “I don’t remember doing much teaching.”

  “All the things I know about being a good woman, I learned from your example.”

  “Thank you, Lace.” Her gaze took on a glassy sheen. “How is your brother?”

  “Dizzy’s fine.”

  “How is living with your uncle going?”

  “It’s okay.” I dropped my chin so she wouldn’t see the lie in my eyes. “Better with him than our mother.”

  “And you’re Warren’s steady girlfriend now.”

  “Mom.” Bryan leaned forward and shook his finger at her. “I told you this morning that they broke up.”

  Ignoring him, she said, “Warren talks about you all the time.”

  “Um.” I didn’t know what to say to that. But it hurt thinking about War. I wasn’t ready to talk about him, and certainly not with her. She seemed disapproving of me, and I wasn’t sure exactly why.

  “Bryan has his future tied to the dream that Tempest will be a successful band one day, and with several legitimate labels interested, we know that’s not just a dream anymore. It’s a real possibility now.”

  Was she worried I’d interfere with Bryan’s dream?

  “He’s the best guitar player I’ve ever heard,” I said firmly. “Any label would be lucky to have him.”

  “Thanks, Lace.” Bryan reached for my hand, took it from my lap, and laid it on his knee.

  His mother stood. “Can I talk to you in my room for a moment, Bry?”

  “Sure. But whatever it is, can’t it wait until later?”

  “No, it has to be now.” Mrs. Jackson marched across the living room, her brown ponytail whipping back and forth between her shoulder blades.

  “I’ll be right back,” Bryan told me, then followed her.

  I flattened my lips to keep them from trembling. Obviously, Mrs. Jackson didn’t want me here. I cringed when I heard my name and then their raised voices.

  “Mom and Bry argue all the time,” Miriam said, but Ann shook her head.

  “Not all the time.”

  Miriam sighed. “A lot since the summer our dad was here.”

  Before I could wonder about that, the door to the apartment burst open and War stepped inside. He wore a white tee that molded to his sculpted chest, its short sleeves rolled up to reveal his biceps. His wallet chain hung in a long loop over his jeaned thigh.

  Although he didn’t see me, I certainly saw him, and my chest squeezed tight.

  War

  “Your mom made cake?” My eye on the prize, I snatched a big corner piece from Ann’s plate.

  “Go away, War,” she said, hunching protectively over her plate while I chewed.

  Pound cake. My favorite. It was buttery rich and delicious.

  “You suck.” Miriam, her younger sister’s protector, snarled at me. “Go away, loser.”

  I didn’t go away. But I breathed a little easier getting their typical response to my harassment. My life was fucked up, but this remained a constant. Here, I was almost part of the family. Besides being center stage behind the mic, this was the only place where I felt like I belonged. I usually came here when stuff got rough with my old lady, but I came tonight because the past twenty-four hours had been absolute shit.

  Bad news from the labels aside, I missed Lace. I kept wanting to call her but wouldn’t. Expecting her to appear, but she didn’t. And it killed me.

  “Why do you have sunglasses on?” Ann asked around a huge bite of cake, the last one on her plate.

  “None of your business, squirt,” I said without any heat.

  “Because he drank too much.” Miriam frowned, and then so did the little one. “Like Dad used to when he was here.”

  Miriam was right. I’d woken up a few hours ago in a puddle of my own drool. I still had cotton mouth and a pounding headache that resulted from mixing a shit-ton of booze with the pill cocktail Kyle had served me last night.

  Suddenly, I heard shouting, surprised it was Bryan’s mom. She hardly ever raised her voice. Turning in the direction of the yelling, I saw her.

  Lace.

  She stood only a couple of feet from me, her back pressed against the wall. A moment after our gazes connected, her expression went from surprise to a remote mask. I suspected she’d been trying to slip out the door while my back had been turned.

  Wanting her, I reached for her before I remembered she’d defied me. Shown her true colors. So I kept my arms where they were, empty at my sides. The couple of feet separating us might as well have been ten thousand miles.

  “What the hell?” I narrowed my gaze. She couldn’t see my eyes behind the sunglasses, but they were full of fire. I was pissed. She did this to us, not me. “What are you doing here?”

  “You don’t have a right to ask me anything anymore.” Lace lifted her chin, practically breathing fire. “Why are you here?”

  “What right do you have to ask,” I said, throwing her words back at her, and she flinched as if she were the injured party in this scenario.

  I hated myself that I had to curl my fingers into fists to keep from reaching for her. I wanted to comfort her, even though I’d been the one to cause her discomfort. It was crazy.

  “Right. My bad.” Her beautiful amber eyes bright, she tossed a lock of her hair over her shoulder. “I guess we did say all that needed to be said the other night.”

  “Babe, I—”

  “Not your babe. Not anything to you, apparently.”

  I frowned. “Not true.”

  “How’s it not? You cut me down. Made me feel like less than nothing.” Her lip trembled. “In front of everyone.”

  “You were the one who drew the blade,” I said. “Knifed me in the back. Opposed me when you should have stood with me, on a night that could have secured our future. You did that.” My brows snapped together. “Not me.”

  Holding her arms stiff at her sides, she was upset but defiant and glorious. Her eyes shining. Pink in her cheeks. Rapid breaths lifting her perfectly round tits. Even mad as hell at her, I wanted to fuck her.

  “I don’t want to fight with you.” Lace’s shoulders drooped as the anger suddenly seemed to drain out of her. “I mean, what’s the point. You’re right. I’m wrong. You already decided.”

  “You have it all messed up.” Frustrated, I shook my head.

  Lace was the one who’d duped me into thinking we were on the same page, that my dream for us was her dream. I wasn’t a priority for her. I wasn’t a priority for anyone. Alone to look after myself once again, I had to return to my former harsh reality before I’d detoured with her.

  A door popped open in the hall behind me. I knew by Lace’s expression that Bryan had appeared. I hated it, the way her eyes softened whenever she looked at him. He wasn’t the sweet boy she’d once known. That was fairy-tale bullshit.

  “War. Fu— I mean, hey,” Bryan said, all overly cool. “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.”

  “Yeah, apparently not.” I shifted so I could see both him and Lace.

  Unfortunately, his mom was also in my peripheral vision. Trapped in the hall behind him, she seemed upset. I didn’t want her to be upset. She was one of the few adults—including Mr. Garrett and Ad
dy Footit—who didn’t think my existence was a waste of oxygen.

  Bryan raked a hand through his hair. “Not trying to hide anything, man.”

  “Why’s Lace here then?”

  “He invited me to come up,” she said, her eyes flashing fire. “He’s my friend. You broke up with me, War. And you kicked me out of the group without even giving me the courtesy of telling me yourself. So, it’s done between us, like you said. And done means you don’t get to dictate anything in my life anymore. Who I’m friends with, or who I decide to go out with, is my own business.” She glanced at Bryan.

  Was she trying to imply they were dating? Oh, hell no.

  She refocused on me. “Are we clear?”

  Fucking hell. She pissed me off, and yet I admired her for it. This girl never backed down. Not from anyone.

  “You’re clear. But now it’s my turn to speak,” I said snidely, “and it’s your turn to listen.”

  “I don’t have to—”

  “A year ago in front of the Fast Mart, I laid myself out to the bone for you.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Never did that for any piece of ass. Never tapped another pussy after that, though I had plenty of opportunities.”

  “Warren!”

  “Sorry, Mrs. Jackson.” I acknowledged her and noted her horrified expression, but I refocused on Lace. “I gave you all of me, and I told you that my plans for the future were our plans. Do you remember that, babe?”

  “Yes,” Lace said, looking shockingly pale.

  “You threw that in my face last night like it meant nothing.”

  “I—”

  “In front of the band and two music reps, you made me look like a pussy.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Fucking grow up, Lacey. Life isn’t fair. In Southside, you make your own rules, or you get shit on.”

  “Sure. Okay. You’re right.” Her gaze even brighter than before, she swallowed, then bobbed her head. But she didn’t cry. “Thanks for that explanation. It was lovely to be cut into even smaller pieces than last night.”

  “Lace.” Sounding all empathetic, Bryan took a step toward her, but I blocked that step.