Bright Young Things

by Anna Martin

The Starbucks was their regular meeting place, and the staff was nice enough. They let Jared spread out with his books and laptop. He had no desire to go anywhere else.

  The thought of spending some time with a person outside Harbor Academy, one who might not know what had happened in the past few days, carried Jared through the rest of the day at school, allowing him to blissfully ignore everything that didn’t matter. There was a lot that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

  When the final bell rang, he had time to loop back to his locker to swap some books before heading to the Caddy. It was still parked in the teacher’s lot, across two spaces, and there was a ticket on the windshield that told him the school had fined him $50 for “parking violations.”

  Jared laughed out loud as he tucked the slip of paper into his satchel. Fifty bucks to these kids was small change, not a deterrent.

  When he looked up, Adam was standing across the lot next to the Jag.

  Having successfully avoided him all day, the sight of Adam—and he really did look like shit—hit Jared like a punch to the stomach.

  There were deep, purple bruises under Adam’s bloodshot eyes, and for the first time in, well, ever, he looked scruffy. He hadn’t shaved, and there was fuzz on his jaw that was visible from a hundred yards away.

  Jared looked away quickly and leaned down to swing himself into the Caddy, aware his heart was beating harder than it had all day, including during his marathon run before lunch. With shaking fingers he started the engine, which came to life with a low roar, and pulled out of the parking lot.

  This time he didn’t look back. He’d made that mistake once before and was not about to do it again.

  Chapter 15

  If he rushed, Jared had time to drive home, get changed, and go to Seattle in the truck, because fuck, did the Caddy drink gas.

  It wasn’t that he wanted to impress Dylan, but tonight, for some reason, Jared had taken more time than usual in picking his clothes, styling his hair. The cashmere sweater had been a gift from his eldest sister when she learned he was moving to Washington. It was a deep forest green that looked nice against his skin. Jared pushed the sleeves up to his elbows and pulled on dark jeans to go with it.

  He wasn’t thinking, forcing any conscious thought from his mind, as he slicked cologne over his throat and tried not to look at his eyes in the mirror.

  When he arrived at the designated Starbucks, Dylan was waiting and Jared rushed to get his order from the barista.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Jared said.

  “No, it’s fine. I got here a while ago. You look nice.”

  Jared blushed. “Thanks. I get so fucking pissed off with uniform, you know? Sometimes it feels good to dress up.”

  Dylan nodded in agreement and reached for his coffee. “Definitely. I couldn’t wait to leave the Academy for the same reason.”

  Jared opened his laptop and pulled up the notes from their last study session. His grades had seriously recovered since he’d started being tutored, and he made sure to let Dylan know how grateful he was. In one of the classes he’d been failing—chemistry—he was now in the top third of the class. It all made sense to him when Dylan was the one talking him through the equations and formulas.

  “So, where have you applied for college?” Dylan asked while Jared got his notes and homework in order.

  “Brown is my first choice,” Jared said distractedly. “Dartmouth and Rice, even though I don’t particularly want to go back to Texas.”

  “Interesting mix.”

  “I threatened to apply for Sarah Lawrence to piss my dad off,” Jared said with a grin.

  Dylan grinned back. “Sarah Lawrence is a great school.”

  “Yeah, but it’s a ‘chick college,’ according to him. He’s such a fucking misogynist.”

  “There’s no love lost between you, is there?”

  “What, the man who sent me to military school to pray away the gay?” Jared huffed. “No. We don’t get along.”

  “That’s a shame,” Dylan murmured, then turned to Jared’s chem textbook. “Thermodynamics?”

  “Ugh,” Jared groaned. “Yeah, okay.”

  An hour later Jared’s eyes were starting to hurt. He understood all of this; that wasn’t the problem. Apparently Clare, Chris, Adam, and all his troubles hadn’t been left at Harbor Academy.

  “Do you wanna talk about it?” Dylan asked and Jared realized, with a rush of heat to his face, that Dylan knew.

  “Not particularly,” he mumbled. Then, “not here.”

  “Okay.” Dylan nodded in understanding, and Jared suddenly pushed himself upright.

  “Can we get out of here?” he asked in a rush. “I’ll take you for dinner.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I’d like to take you to dinner,” Jared amended, hoping he wasn’t making an epically huge mistake.

  Dylan smiled softly. “Okay,” he said again, and helped Jared pack up his things.

  When they got outside, Jared was pleased, for a reason he couldn’t name, that he hadn’t brought the Caddy. It was ostentatious and so not him, and he got the impression Dylan would call him out on that kind of bullshit. His sleek red truck was far more his style.

  Since Dylan knew the area, Jared followed him a few blocks over to a warm-looking Indian restaurant. While Dylan parked, Jared wondered if this counted as a date and silently sent a prayer of thanks to his sister for the gorgeous sweater. At least he looked good.

  “Does this work for you?” Dylan asked when he joined Jared at the door.

  “Yeah, absolutely. I haven’t had decent Indian food in forever.”

  “You’ll like it here, then,” Dylan said with a grin and held the door open.

  Edging into date territory, for sure.

  The hostess seated them in a good spot near a window, so they could people-watch during any lulls in conversation and within sight of the open-fronted kitchen. For a moment they both watched as white-jacketed chefs shouted instructions to each other over the hiss and steam of the sizzling curries.

  They requested water, since they were both driving, and ordered from a young, smiling Indian girl who relayed the message to the kitchen in her mother tongue.

  “This place is nice,” Jared said. He sipped ice water with lime.

  Dylan nodded. “One of the guys I have a class with brought a bunch of us here. His family owns a few restaurants here and in Tacoma. The food is amazing.”

  They were quiet for a few minutes, and Jared looked over Dylan’s body. Tonight, he was wearing a sort of ugly knitted sweater that actually looked pretty good on him and tight jeans tucked into his boots. There was fuzz on his jaw that might be the start of a beard, and even though the guy was in total hipster territory, Jared decided he was cute.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Dylan offered, giving Jared a sympathetic glance that made him squirm.

  “I wish people didn’t know,” Jared muttered. “It’s….”

  Dylan was already shaking his head. He was playing with the edge of his napkin, twisting it over and over. “You still don’t know these people,” he said. “You’re not the first and definitely not the last person who will get caught up in their games.”

  “You used to be one of them,” Jared said. He refused to meet Dylan’s eyes.

  “A long time ago.” Dylan sounded a little hurt at being lumped in with Clare and the rest. “Jared… Ryder told me what happened. Right now it’s going to seem like the end of the world, but you don’t realize how much you’re fucking with them at the moment.”

  “I’m not fucking with anyone. I’m keeping my head down and staying out of the bullshit.”

  “Exactly!” Dylan exclaimed. “Clare runs people out of town. It sounds dramatic but it’s true. The fact that you took the car….”

  “How much do you know?” Jared asked curiously.

  “Pretty much all of it.”

  “How long have you known?”

  Dylan gave him an unread
able look. “About a day and a half,” he said. “Trust me, Jared, if I’d known sooner, I would have told you.”

  “I don’t trust anyone anymore.”

  “That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Dylan said. “You don’t have to believe me. But I know Clare, and my sister, and Mia, and Chris and Adam. I’ve known them nearly all my life. I know it seems impossible, but you might actually be able to come out on top of all this.”

  Jared snorted. “Bullshit.”

  “I’m serious. Clare plays games with people, and she doesn’t care what the consequences are. I’m pretty sure she’s psychopathic, in the medical sense. She’ll either end up in an institution or in politics.”

  Jared wasn’t sure if Dylan was serious or not, but the mental image was more than a little amusing. Or terrifying, depending on how you looked at it.

  “I just don’t want her to win,” Jared said as their orders were brought over by the smiling waitress.

  Dylan grinned. “She doesn’t have to.”

  They ate in silence for a while—the food really was good—and Jared thought about what Dylan was offering him. It was hard to try and section out his life and slam the shutters on the feelings that had been brewing for Adam. He wasn’t sentimental, and didn’t think that Adam would forever be his “man that got away.” Nor would he be the man who broke Jared’s heart. Jared wasn’t going to let him have it.

  “The worst thing,” Jared said, apropos of nothing, “is that I thought they were my friends.”

  Dylan gave him a level look, scooped some rice onto his fork, and gestured for Jared to continue.

  “Not like, you know, BFFs for life. Moving to a new place is hard, though, and the first time I went out, I was suddenly in with the cool kids.” Internally, Jared groaned at how awful that sounded. “Coming from a fucking backward corner of Texas, meeting all of them was a new opportunity. Chris just has this aura, you know?”

  Dylan nodded. “Chris is a legend.”

  “I know. He’s the sort of person who seems like he shouldn’t be real.”

  “Larger than life?”

  “Exactly.” Jared dropped his fork and leaned back in his seat, absently rubbing his over-full stomach.

  “What about Adam?”

  “Hmm? What about him?”

  “You’ve mentioned all the others, but not Adam.”

  Jared shook his head. “I trusted him. He won the bet. Did Ryder tell you that?”

  By the shocked expression on Dylan’s face, Jared guessed not. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Shit,” he drawled. Then, “Shit.”

  Jared snorted.

  “Ryder doesn’t know,” Dylan said. “I know that much for sure. If she knew, everyone would know. Fuck, I love my sister, but she has a big mouth.”

  “What do they think happened, then?” Jared asked. The only person he felt comfortable enough around to ask these things was Dylan. Everyone else was too involved.

  “They don’t know, and it’s pissing them the hell off,” Dylan said with a grin. “There was some sort of argument at the white party?”

  Jared nodded. “Yeah. When I found out about the bet, I confronted him about it.”

  “Then you disappeared for a few days.”

  “This morning was the first time I went back to school. They don’t call me out if I don’t show up for school because my guardian is the principal’s ex-wife, and he doesn’t have the balls to call her. Oh, and Chris gave me the car.”

  “Hold up,” Dylan said, raising both hands. “Say that again.”

  “Chris gave me Elvis’s motherfucking pink Cadillac,” Jared repeated with a grin. “I think he wanted to play with them all, fuck it all up a bit further.”

  “That was the car Adam was supposed to win if he fucked you.”

  “Yeah,” Jared confirmed.

  “And you f—had sex with him.”

  “You can say ‘fuck,’” Jared said, rolling his eyes.

  “And then Chris gave the Caddy to you?”

  Jared nodded, and for a moment, Dylan looked like he was processing it all. Then he burst out in hysterical laughter.

  “What?” Jared said as other diners looked around at the noise. “Shut the fuck up, dude. People are looking.”

  “Sorry,” Dylan said, wiping tears from his eyes with his napkin. “Fucking hell, Jared. They must be going out of their minds over there.”

  Jared shrugged. “I don’t know about that.”

  “Did you tell Chris that you and Adam slept together?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Did Chris tell Adam why he gave you the car?”

  “Don’t think so.”

  “Shit,” Dylan drawled again. “I can tell you this much. No one has ever, ever fucked with these kids as long or as hard as you just did.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Jared protested.

  Dylan shook his head. “No, you did everything,” he corrected.

  “Whatever.” Playing them back was retribution, sure. He wasn’t hurting anyone, so as far as he was concerned, it didn’t really matter. The waitress came to take their plates away and offered dessert, which Jared refused. The curry had been delicious but filling, and he couldn’t eat another bite.

  “So, what are you going to do next?” Dylan asked, whisking the check away before Jared had a chance to find out what he owed. “It’s on me.”

  “Thanks,” Jared said. Definitely date territory now. “I don’t know. Keep driving the car, keep my mouth shut. I just want to get out of here.”

  “Keeping your grades up and getting into a good school is your best chance. Don’t let these assholes drag you down, Jared. You’re too nice to get caught up in all their bullshit.”

  Jared ducked his head and blushed.

  On their way out, Dylan paid, in cash, leaving a decent tip in the leather folder. Jared tried not to look—it was rude—but those were two fifties and the meal definitely hadn’t cost that much.

  They had parked their cars side by side, and Jared leaned against the door of his truck, Dylan doing the same opposite him. The night had drawn in, and it was cold, forcing him to wrap his arms around himself for warmth. The chill was probably caused by the endless, cloudless sky, broken up by bright clusters of stars and a full, heavy moon.

  “Thanks for tonight,” Jared said softly. “I don’t think I realized how much I needed to get out of there.”

  “It was nothing. You can call me any time, you know? I don’t mind. If the bastards are grinding you down, we can always go out in Seattle or something.”

  Jared nodded. Dylan smiled, and Jared reminded himself they were the same age. The status difference between them: tutor and student, plus the fact that Dylan was already a college student, made Jared think he was dealing with someone much older. But really… there wasn’t so much between their ages.

  He knew what happened next. This narrative was familiar—coffee, dinner, kiss, home, sex. Text message the next day, call a few days later if there was a repeat performance in the cards. But Dylan wasn’t a trick or a one-night stand. He was a friend, and Ryder’s brother. He was more than that.

  They regarded each other in silence for a moment, similar thoughts likely running through both their minds. Jared wasn’t sure who made the first move. Possibly Dylan extended his hand at the same time Jared stepped forward, closing in on Dylan’s space and softly pressing their lips together.

  Jared was taller—he was always taller—and bent slightly at the waist to narrow the distance between them. Dylan was a good kisser. He gripped Jared’s waist with sure hands and his lips parted just a little, allowing them to catch and break, catch and break the kiss over and over.

  In a moment, Jared knew what sort of boyfriend Dylan would be. They would go out on interesting dates, to art house movies, and quirky cafes and museums and galleries. They would talk about politics and society and what their role in it was. They’d be more than lovers. Their friendship would thrive until J
ared had to go away to college.

  Then they’d make time to see each other a few times a month, their relationship becoming more open until one or the other of them met someone else and it naturally fizzled away with no hard feelings on either side. As Dylan’s lips massaged his own, Jared saw all of this and didn’t want it.

  He broke away with a smile, pressing a soft kiss to Dylan’s cheek.

  “Thanks for dinner. And everything.”

  Dylan nodded and they quietly got back into their own vehicles.

  There would be no art house movies, or galleries, or cafes. There would be no fizzling away.

  Because Jared was in love with someone else. And even the nicest, sweetest guy in the Pacific Northwest couldn’t change that.

  Chapter 16

  For the next couple of weeks, Jared developed a reassuring routine. Things at Harbor Academy were predictable enough for him to build his life around the key strategic points: homeroom, gym, lunch, parties.

  There wasn’t anything planned until New Year on the party front, so he pushed that out of his mind. The one thing clearly driving Clare, and everyone other than Chris and Dylan, insane was Jared’s continued silence. He didn’t talk about the car, or the bet, or the white party.

  Someone suggested he should go into politics, and he remembered Dylan’s assessment of Clare and laughed harder than he probably should have. The other students thought he was a little crazy. That was fine. Crazy kept people on their toes.

  Adam was… a storm. Other people didn’t see it, but Jared did. He’d only known him for a few months and already he recognized the little tics and features that other people probably overlooked.

  Jared didn’t look too often, but when he did, there was something boiling under Adam’s skin. The bruised eyes and wounded expression were long gone, replaced with the arrogant sneer and swagger that was somehow reassuring.

  They didn’t talk. Oh, occasionally they exchanged pleasantries or curt nods. Jared acknowledged that Adam existed. It wasn’t his style to hold a grudge, and definitely not while half the school was watching, waiting to see what the next step in the drama would be.