In theory, Jules is one-hundred percent right, but she’s forgetting something. I have no interest in speaking to or about Hunter. He’s made his bed, now he’ll lie in it.
Alone.
“How far is the Uber?” I ask, instead of continuing this conversation.
Jules clearly doesn’t want to drop it, but she knows I’m stubborn, hard to push once I plant my feet.
“Five minutes away.”
Cool. Pretty sure I can avoid a resurgence of that conversation for five measly minutes.
We stand at the edge of the road in silence, which is unlike us. Her stare is burning a hole through the side of my face, now that she’s frustrated I’ve shut down.
“Fine, we’ll talk about something else,” she concedes, and then releases my arm to cross both hers over her chest. “Tell me what you thought of tonight.”
I’m not quite sure what she’s getting at, so I shrug. “It was fine, I guess. Bunch of spoiled rich kids smoking weed and drinking. Just like the south side, there’s just bigger houses and money.”
She rolls her eyes, which means that isn’t the answer she was looking for.
“Do you think you’ll, you know, be okay?” I don’t miss the genuine concern in her tone when asking. “Most of these people will be your classmates at Cypress Prep. Guess I just need to know you’re cool with the change.”
“CP is a means to an end,” I answer with a sigh. “It’s an opportunity, and I don’t get many of those, so … carpe diem and whatnot.”
I fall silent when my thoughts shift to how I lucked up on said opportunity. As much as I don’t want to think about my brother right now, I have Hunter to thank.
“You’re always so evasive,” Jules accuses, which isn’t a lie.
“And you love me just as I am.”
“Mmm … more like I tolerate you just as you are. Big difference, BJ.”
The set of headlights heading our way brings a sigh of relief to my lips. It’s the first step to there being an end to this night. I’ve had my fill of pretending I fit in here, had my fill of pretending my life hadn’t been turned upside down this year.
In so many ways.
All I want is to go home, enjoy summer break, and revel in the last stretch of normalcy I’ll have for a while.
With the clock winding down, I better enjoy it while I can.
@QweenPandora: As expected, the party was epic. Thanks to the north side’s favorite triplets, TheGoldenBoys! No one called the cops with noise complaints, no random acts of violence were committed, and only one idiot nearly drowned. Any way you slice it, that’s a win! Hats off to our hosts, KingMidas, MrSilver, & PrettyBoyD.
P.S. Several new faces were spotted among the crowd, including a rather free-spirited redhead and a reserved blonde. Anyone got info on them? One thing’s for sure; if they stick around, you can count on me to report back.
P.P.S. I cannot stress enough how important it is that you use protection. If we learned anything from the a-hole who almost drowned in three-feet of water, it’s that the world isn’t quite ready for this generation to reproduce.
Later, Peeps.
—P
Chapter 2
—July, one month later—
WEST
Sterling sticks his head into the study from the hallway. He’s on lookout, and also scared shitless, which isn’t exactly helpful.
“Hurry the hell up!” he warns. “Dane just texted. They’re pulling in.”
I hear him, flip him off, then keep searching. They’d spend a couple minutes inside the parking structure, then a minute and a half riding the elevator up twenty-six floors. If I’m not done by then, we’re screwed.
“Where the hell is it?” I whisper the question to myself, wishing Dane had stayed to help me cover more ground, but having him keep watch in the lobby is better. It’s the reason we now have an ETA on our parents. Still, we might’ve planned better if the whole ‘heist idea’ hadn’t been drafted up about ten minutes ago.
It started with the phone call—turned screaming match—between my father and me. A neighbor at the Bellvue Hills house decided tonight was a good night to snitch, telling that we’d had parties there nearly every weekend since the start of summer. So, as he sped through the streets of downtown Cypress with Mom listening in the background, he informed my brothers and me that access to all our bank accounts had been blocked until the start of the school year.
He’s pissed, but it has nothing to do with the house. He hasn’t even been by there in nearly a year. This is about control. The almighty Vin Golden hates the idea of something like that going on under his nose without his permission.
So, instead of losing out on the deal I struck with the owner of a 1970 Chevelle, I’ll let good old Vin pick up the tab.
My phone notifications are going off like crazy, and on the other side of the threshold, Sterling’s resorted to cussing me out under his breath. The combination of both sounds only makes my nerves worse. He’s losing his shit, which makes me start losing my shit.
“Pandora’s starting with her updates,” Sterling pops in to say. “One of her minions reported in on Vin, said they saw him blow through a few red lights to get here.”
Which means he’ll be rushing up here double-time if he’s that pissed. My window of escape just closed in a little more.
I move down a drawer on the desk, still holding on to hope that I’ll stumble across a very specific credit card. The black one with no limit. The one my father only brings out when he’s really fucked up, so bad the only remedy is to buy Mom something expensive enough to stop the tears.
Sad thing is, that’s usually no fewer than three or four times a year. Perks of being an asshole.
I won’t be using it
