Bad Son (Wild Men 3.50)

Gigi

“So where’s your crush today?” Sydney asks me as we put our books in our lockers after school.

“I don’t have a crush,” I say primly, glancing at Tom Horton who’s been hitting on me all year. He’s grinning at me.

Make him go away.

“The hottie. You know the one? Tattoos, big shoulders, pretty eyes, a limp?”

“No idea who that might be.” I close my locker with unnecessary force.

“Come on, Gigi. Jarett Lowe. We don’t keep secrets from each other, remember? Not that this is a secret. The whole school, heck, the whole town knows.”

“Knows what? We’re neighbors, that’s all.”

She shakes her head at me and gives a heavy sigh as she shrugs on her backpack. “Yeah, right.”

“Seriously. We live on the same street.”

“I know that, dummy. You’ve told me before, like ten thousand times. What I don’t get is why you deny you have a crush on Jarett.”

“That’s because I don’t.”

She has to jog to keep up with me as we walk out of the school, and it reminds me of me and Jarett, and how I always hurry to catch up with his much longer strides.

Or how he slows down for me.

Lately, everything reminds me of Jarett. It’s annoying. I don’t have a crush, and that’s that. Plenty of boys around, thank you very much, and I don’t need any of them.

Jarett is... different. I can’t put my finger on it, but he’s not the same as the other boys. He’s not one for talking much, but everything he’s said is branded in my mind. I look forward to seeing him every day after school, and I miss him when he’s not there.

His presence is special. Beautifully warm. Brightly dark. Painfully wonderful.

No, Jarett is not a crush. He’s either nothing, or he’s everything.

And I’ve never been so scared in my life.

***

“Why are you here?”

I scowl at Merc who’s taking off his earphones and leaning back on the sofa, his short blond hair adorably ruffled. “You should be happy I’m here, you little shit. You’re sick. I’m your sister, and I worry about you.”

“I’m not sick anymore,” he protests—and then spoils it when he gives a lung-rattling cough, remnant of the flu that brought him down two weeks ago.

“Right.”

“Honestly, dude, I’m okay. No reason for you to hover when you wanna be someplace else.”

I hide my flinch. “And how to you know I wanna be someplace else, huh?”

“No brainer, sis. You’re always with Jarett, you know the one, the tall one with the tats, the one who lives down the street—”

“I’m not always with him! That’s a lie. Besides, he’s a neighbor, I can’t really avoid him, can I?”

“—or looking for him, or at him, or toward his house, sighing and shit, hearts flashing in your eyes—”

“Merc, stop this right now, okay?”