Rise (Rock God 1)

“This is not my fault.” She drops her hands and screams, causing the next-door neighbor’s dog to bark.

“Shh. Jesus, Stephanie, be quiet. I gave you all my money, and your mom is taking you. It’s done.”

Why am I trying to reason with her? This is her fault. I mean, yeah, I should have listened to everyone and wrapped it up, but she promised she was on the pill.

“I need you to go with me.” She hiccups and looks up at me.

Tomorrow is school—not that I can’t forge a note—but her mom is taking her. I already feel like shit. And she wants me to sit there and be like what… a boyfriend?

I stare down and take a long, hard look at her. I don’t know if I ever really have. She’s not hot, but she’s cute with short brown hair. I’ve known her for years, and yet I couldn’t tell you what her favorite color is.

This is a horror show. I just want it fucking over and done. I take a deep inhale and toss the cigarette onto the concrete as I try to think. As soon as she said she was late, I knew, and it’s messed with my head. It also doesn’t help that my friends seem to think it’s not a big deal.

She tries to wrap her cold hands around my neck, almost startling me. She tilts her head back.

What the fuck? One second she’s screaming, the next she wants me to kiss her? This is over, has been for a while.

“Steph, look at me.” Her eyes pop open.

“If you absolutely need me tomorrow, I’ll go, but I’d rather not.” The one thing I owe her is honesty.

She slides her hands down to hang at her sides and looks up at the sky. “No, my mom is taking me, and this is the right thing for both of us. I don’t want to be a mom any more than you want to be a dad.”

Before I can say anything, she turns and walks toward her house. I close my eyes, trying to get ahold of these emotions that I should feel, but the truth is I’m relieved.

All my dreams would have been just that, dreams, because I would have had to get a job and help out. I mean, I never had a dad, and look at me.

A flash of dark hair and dirty bare feet make me look up. “Christ.” I rub my hands up and down my face.

“What the freak? What’s happening to Stephanie?” Gia Fontaine sits perched on top of one of the trees in our backyard.

“What are you doing? And I told you to stop saying that,” I say, looking around. You never know with Gia. I call her the Brat because she really is. She’s Axel’s baby sister.

She’s seven, almost eight, and is like my shadow. If I had a pet puppy I don’t think it would be more loyal.

Lately, she’s started spying on me, taking pictures with the camera she got for Christmas. It’s a nice camera, older version, a Nikon and she loves it.

“Freak is not a bad word.” She waves the camera that’s around her neck at me. “And what does it look like I’m doing?” Both her knees are skinned, and the bottoms of her feet are black from running around with no shoes.

Sighing, I hear Nuke playing the drums. “Gia, get down. You can’t spy on people.” I hold out my arms for her to jump. She leaps like a frog, and not for the first time do I wish I were her.

She’s fearless.

I know it makes Axel crazy, but I think when she grows up it will be an asset. Her zest for life is usually infectious. Today, she’s testing my patience.

“You made her cry, Rhys. Why do all the girls cry around you?” I stop for a second as if she’s gut punched me. Leave it to the Brat to tell the truth.

“I guess I’m just not good.” I shake my head. “Look, Gia, this is grown-up shi… stuff. You wouldn’t understand. Steph will be fine. Let’s just go to your house,” I grumble, not bothering to see if she’s following. I know she is.

“Why is she saying she’s gonna have a baby?” She runs so that she’s at my side, then brings the camera to her face and snaps a picture of me. Jesus Christ, I didn’t think this day could get much worse, but two minutes with Gia has done it.

I stop. She almost trips on the sidewalk, which is broken and elevated from the roots of a tree. I take a deep breath. This fucking seven-year-old brat is making me feel worse than Stephanie.

“You misunderstood her. She’s sad about—”

“I heard her. She’s sad about the baby. I know all about it. I asked my mom last night.”