I handed the PRS-500 to Geezer and gave him my instructions. He climbed inside the truck to use the light for his work.
Studying Grayley, I commented, “You look more preppy than when I left. If I were to notice things like that.”
“Preppy?” he asked, surprised at my comment.
“Yeah. Someone who’d hang out with Gentley.”
“You mean someone who’d like to stay alive and therefore needs to avoid Brian at all costs? If that’s preppy, keeping my neck screwed on, then yeah—I’m preppier. God—if that’s even a word, Taryn.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Look, I don’t know what happened between you and Brian, but he’s been a loose cannon this week. I heard that he and Jace had a huge brawl the other night. They both had to go to the hospital and now Brian’s been off—doing who the hell knows what. He’s dangerous, Taryn and I think you set him off.”
“He bothering you at all?”
“No. Not yet. But I’ve no doubt he’s just making his rounds. He roughed up Kerri before his fight with Jace.”
“Kerri? Is she okay?”
Kerri and I had been on okay terms. She was one of those girls that was just on the scene and sort of just ended up being accepted in the group. She was just there, you know. I know she’d slept with Geezer a few times. But, one time she’d helped me out with something and ever since then I had grown a soft spot for her. Still…we weren’t exactly best buds.
“I think so. Still, it’s Kerri. He roughed her up. A girl, Taryn. I didn’t know he had it in him—”
I snorted.
He amended, “Okay. I did know, but he’s just scary now. He’s not stable.”
“Well, we’re over.”
“I know you are.”
We fell silent. What else could really be said on that topic.
“So, you’re with Gentley’s crew now?” I asked.
“I guess. I’m not with Brian anymore. That’s for damn sure.”
“Still. Gentley?” I asked scornfully.
“Yeah.” He sighed. “School’s not the same. It’s not…I don’t know.”
“It can’t be that different. I mean it’s just a school.”
“Bri’s off his rocker. I heard that the school got a restraining order on him.”
“All that happened within one week?”
“Most of it’s just rumors,” he murmured, jumping to sit on the back of his cab.
Anything else we would have said was interrupted as Geezer slammed his door shut. Brandishing the PRS-500, he exclaimed, “Alrighty, tighty. It’s programmed how you want it. Those suckers won’t get through my fire walls. If they do, I want to meet ‘em. Give ‘em some of my weed because I’ll be in awe.”
Tucking the device back in place, I said warmly, “Thanks, Geezer.”
“No prob.” He waved me off.
“What can I do to thank you?”
“Oh. Oh!” He grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Oh no. I’d like to live to see next week. Thanks, though.”