That had always been good enough for me.
Dylan hugged Aubrey closer into his chest. Her back pressed up against him with her head tilted to the side, resting on his shoulder. Both of them watched the flames of the fire, lost in their own thoughts.
Dylan had started showing interest in the new girl, Aubrey two years ago, and to be honest, I was still dumbfounded by it. He was a bigger whore than I was. He pretty much chased her down until she finally gave in, challenging him to keep his dick in his pants for a month before she agreed to go on a date with him.
They’d been together ever since.
What once was a happy-go-lucky relationship turned into something volatile a few years later. Only proving to me that love was a bunch of fucking bullshit.
And Jacob, well… he was another story. One that I would learn soon enough, showing me how much of a hypocritical son of a bitch he really was.
Alex took a sip of her drink.
“Take it easy on that,” Lucas warned, his eyes still intently placed on us.
Alex wanted to forget, she wanted to rebel, she wanted to prove something to us, and that’s why she was drinking in the first place. As much as I hated to admit it, Lucas was right. But I was the last person that had any right to tell her what to do, so I just grabbed the drink out of her hands and finished it off for her instead.
Yeah, I’m a fucking hypocrite too.
“Ugh,” Alex protested. “I’ll just go get another one.”
She stood, losing her balance. Aubrey grabbed ahold of her.
“I’ll go with you.” She knowingly winked down at Dylan.
Aubrey loved our Half-Pint, too. Her and Cole were both seventeen like me, and going into their senior year of high school as well. To be honest, I really liked Aubrey. She was good for Dylan, kept him on his toes and put up with all his bullshit. He was lucky to finally find someone who would. Aubrey was the best thing to walk into his life. They were meant to be together.
We watched them leave.
“You alright over there, McGraw?” I asked Dylan who was gazing at Aubrey with the same yearning that Lucas displayed over Alex.
“Just fuckin’ peachy, brother,” he replied, shaking his head. “How about you? How you holdin’ up? You ready to run this fuckin’ town without us?”
“Been doin’ that since the day I was born.”
We all smiled.
“I know. I taught you well,” Jacob chimed in, cracking his neck.
I chuckled. Lucas still hadn’t taken his stare off Alex. He wasn’t paying us any mind.
“You’re the last one left, Austin,” Dylan said out of nowhere, catching me off guard.
I turned from the fire to look at him, not sure where he was going with this.
“I know we all give you shit for being the youngest and you used to be the smallest. Come to think of it, there was a time I thought Half-Pint might be bigger than you.” He grinned.
“Asshole,” I muttered, holding back my own grin.
“But you grew up,” he added with a sudden serious expression. “And you’re up, brother. We’re not goin’ to be around, and Half-Pint is gonna need you now more than ever. Especially since this is her last year before she’s really alone.”
I nodded, understanding.
“She’s your responsibility. You watch out and take care of our girl,” Jacob added.
“Of course,” I vowed.
Jacob nudged my shoulder. “Won’t be the same without you, bro.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” Dylan stood. “But enough of this sappy shit, I feel like kicking someone’s ass in a game of beer pong.”
“You’re on, fucker,” Jacob challenged.
Dylan stopped in front of me to do our usual handshake, patting me on the shoulder. Jacob followed his lead and they left.
Lucas and I found ourselves sitting in uncomfortable silence for what seemed like a lifetime, staring at the flames and the sparks soaring up into the dark sky. There were no stars out; there was barely a moon. The wind blew all around us, mimicking the waves of the ocean. I immediately wondered if the boys would miss this.
It was all we’d ever known.
All I knew was that I wanted out of this town.
“You know they’re right,” Lucas declared, breaking the silence and bringing my attention back to him.
His intense stare hadn’t wavered from Alex, who was giggling like a little girl, hanging all over Cole.
“She’s drunk,” he stated, taking the words right out of my mouth.
I shook my head, taking a deep, long breath, not knowing how to reply.
“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, bowing his head and running his hands roughly through his hair.
“Lucas—”
“I didn’t think it was going to be this fucking hard… leaving her. With you.”
“We all love her. Just as much as you do.”
He peered up at me with a look I recognized and understood all too well.
I didn’t falter. “It was your choice to go away to college. No one put a fuckin’ gun to your head, ordering you to move to Ohio. You’re leaving her… with me, because you chose to. So if that’s eating away at your conscience, it’s no one’s fuckin’ fault but your own.”
He scoffed. “That girl over there," he gestured toward Alex, who was still draped over Cole, "is my fucking world, and don’t you ever forget that," he roared through gritted teeth.
I chuckled, shrugging. “I’m not the one leaving her, Bo," I declared, adding fuel to the fire.
He jerked back like I had hit him. “Tread carefully, Austin,” he sneered, standing, taking a step closer to me.
I stood too. We were a foot apart. It didn't matter that there were people everywhere around us, neither one of us backed down. For a few seconds in time we forgot that we were brothers, best friends, playing on the same damn team.
“Get the fuck out of my face, Lucas,” I cautioned through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw, ready to knock him on his ass if needed. “She’s better off without you here, but don’t you worry, Bo. I’ll take care of our girl.”
“You, son of—”
“Hey…” Alex wobbled, stepping in between us. “What’s going on?” she slightly slurred with a lazy smile.
I pulled her toward me before she fell, bringing her into my arms. She rested her head on my chest and wrapped her arms around me, sighing contently.
Lucas glared at me one last time before stepping back, surrendering his hands, placing some much-needed distance between us.
“Where you going, Bo? You’s not supposed to leave until tomorrows. I don’t want you to leaves,” she jumbled; completely oblivious to what was going on with us.
“I’ll always come back, Half-Pint.” Lucas backed away, pointed his finger in my direction and warned, “Don’t fuck it up.”
Alex peered up at me, distracting me from Lucas. She had glossy eyes, rosy cheeks, and a sluggish smile. Obviously, having a hard time focusing on my face.
“You changed, Austin,” she said out of nowhere, catching me off guard.
“Half-Pint—”
“You used to be such a nice boy. A very, very, very nice boy. You’s not that boy anymore and that makes me sad.”
“Alex, you’re drunk.”
She slowly nodded. “I don’t like new Austin’s. He uses girls and causes troubles. That’s not you. Not my boy. Brings him back.” She hugged me closer, her face pressed into my chest. “Mmm kay?”
I kissed the top of her head. Looking over at Lucas who hadn’t moved from the place he stood. Only confirming her boy was gone.
And he wasn’t coming back.
Briggs
“Oh, come on, Esteban! Just watch the movie with me," I coaxed, patting the couch next to me. “It’s Friday night, and we both know you don’t have any friends,” I teased. “What are you going to do? Go hide out in your room? Come on, I know you want to. What guy wouldn't want to watch The Shining?”
He
raised his eyebrows.
“It’s almost Halloween. I’m trying to get into the spirit. Hang your gun up and take a load off. See what I did there? Gun, load?” I wiggled my eyebrows.
He chuckled, shaking his head.
“My uncle’s gone and who the hell knows when he’ll be back this time. So, you don’t have to play guard dog for me tonight. I ordered a pizza. I have popcorn, gummy bears, and snow caps,” I said, pointing to the assortment of snacks on the coffee table. “All food groups. Plus, we don’t have to go anywhere. Now sit down and watch the damn movie with me.”
He looked at me skeptically and then sat down on the other couch.
“When did you become so bossy?”
“Peer pressure. I’m around my uncle all the time. I’m far too sensitive," I stated, pulling my blanket over me and popping a gummy bear in my mouth.
He laughed, big and throaty. I smiled, biting my lip.
“Why do you pretend you don’t like to hang out with me? I’m kind of a big deal.”
“I’m not your fri—”
“Yes, I know. We’re not friends. You work for my uncle… yada, yada, yada, I got it. But," I paused for effect, “you’re my bodyguard-slash-driver, so that means you work for me, too.” I grinned all proud of myself.
“When did you get so smart?”
“It comes with age.”
“You’re fourteen.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, but I’ve been through a lot. It’s kind of like dog years, so I’m really like a hundred and something,” I explained, counting on my fingers.
“Ninety-eight,” he answered.
“That’s what I said."
The last few years had been uneventful, we’d all fallen into a comfortable routine, and I was thankful for that. God knows I had enough drama to last me a lifetime when I first moved in. I guess Esteban was right. Things did get easier as more time went by, I just hadn’t figured out if that was a good or bad thing.
It had been two years since I’d last changed schools. I wish I could tell you that I was happy staying in one place, but it didn’t change the fact that I was alone. I hated school. I hated my teachers. I hated the students. Nothing about my life was normal. I had no parents, no friends, no one to talk to. I was around men and adults all the time, and I began to think that was maybe the reason I stopped trying to make any friends.
It was pointless.
I still read and wrote a lot. I spent most of my time with the fictional characters I’d grown to love from the pages of my books.
But with age came wisdom or however the hell you say that… I knew my uncle was involved in some sort of shady-ass shit. I had a bodyguard who hardly let me out of his sight for more than a few minutes, and that was only when I had to use the bathroom or we were in the penthouse. There was also the fact that every man my uncle brought around, which seemed to be few and far between, were all packing heat.
Every. Last. One.
The pizza arrived shortly after I ordered it and Esteban insisted he’d go get it from the door. He set the pizza on the coffee table while I went and grabbed us some sodas. I smirked, nudging him with my shoulder when he moved to sit beside me, so that he was closer to the food.
No one warned me that The Shining wasn’t your typical horror movie with a killer who was an actor dressed in costume and made up like Freddy Kruger or Jason. I was prepared for that. The storyline in this movie could actually happen in real life and that scared the absolute living shit out of me.
At one point, I jumped and screamed so loud that I pretty much ended up in Esteban’s lap. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t even embarrassed about it. I even considered staying in his strong arms. I’d known Esteban for eight years. As much as he reminded me that he wasn’t my friend, a part of me knew that he was. It was just part of his job to tell me that he wasn’t.
At least that’s what I hoped for.
I was a young girl, a teenager well on my way to becoming a woman. It was easy to get lost in the romance fantasy that I read in my books and imagine real life being that way. Over the last few months, I’d found myself thinking about Esteban in ways that I never had before, in ways that I probably shouldn’t have.
But that still didn’t stop me.
You couldn’t blame me. It’s not like I was around guys my own age. They steered clear of me as much as my uncle did. Esteban was handsome with blue eyes, tan skin, and dark brown hair. He was as tall, built, and muscular like my uncle and only wore suits like him too.
“What are you thinking about over there?” he asked, startling me away from my thoughts.
“Mmm?” I replied, tearing my eyes away from the movie to look over at him, heat spreading across my checks.
“You went from being scared to lost in thought.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and blurted, “Shouldn’t you be watching the movie instead of me?”
He cleared his throat and peered back at the TV.
“I don’t know why I said that,” I whispered, loud enough for him to hear.
Esteban suddenly stood to leave. I knew what he was doing. He wanted to put some distance between us.
I shocked us both when I shouted, “No!” Gripping his wrist, I held him in place.
He looked down at my grasp.
“Please don’t leave.”
Our eyes locked and I immediately let go.
“I’m tired of being alone, Esteban,” I admitted out loud for the first time. “I don’t have any friends. I barely see my uncle. I have no one.” I shifted on the couch to face him. “I know you said you’re not my friend, but… that doesn’t mean that I don’t see you as one. You’re the only person I have.”
He frowned. Esteban wore his emotions on his sleeve. I could physically see his heart breaking for me. I hardly knew anything about him, but for some reason I felt like I knew everything.
“Daisy—”
“Briggs. Why do you insist on calling me Daisy?” I questioned, surprised with the turn in events.
“It’s your name,” he simply stated.
“Daisy died the day she killed my parents. She doesn’t exist anymore.”
He jerked back, stunned. “It was a car accident. You had nothing to do with that.”
“I caused it.”
“The driver in the other car caused it.”
I shook my head no. “That’s not how I remember it.”
“You had nothing to do with your parents’ death. Do you understand me? Nothing,” he argued in a stern tone I’d never heard before.
I stood, looking deep into his eyes, and spoke with conviction, “Have you ever killed anyone?”
Chapter 7
Austin
I had been staring at the letter on my desk all morning. It didn’t look as pristine as it did three months ago. I don’t know how many times I had folded and unfolded it. Reading the same lines over and over again, still not finding the courage to bring it up to my parents.
“It is our pleasure to inform you that your application for admission to the School of Art and Design at Pratt Institute for the Fall Semester has been approved. We congratulate you on your acceptance and look forward to having you begin your professional studies at Pratt.”
I never in my wildest dreams thought I would get in. Not a chance in hell they would accept my application. I had known about Pratt, School of Art and Design, since I was a kid. Anyone with the kind of passion I had for drawing knew that this was the school to attend if you wanted a career in arts. They were the number one art school in the US, receiving thousands of applications. Getting in was a miracle itself.
My parents had been on my ass about college and applying to schools for months. I finally applied to a few, including Ohio State, just to get them off my ass. The truth was I didn’t even want to go to fucking college, but Pratt…
That was different.
Being the number one art school, I thought maybe that bit of information would sway my parents’ opinion on the subject. So I applied.
My GPA was decent, even though school wasn’t really my thing. I had already started a portfolio of my drawings, years of adding sketches upon sketches into it. All I was required to do was send in my application with a few sketches, some letters of recommendation which my art teachers were more than happy to provide, and an application fee. I shoved my packet into the mailbox one morning before school and didn’t give it a second thought.
I started to check the mailbox on a daily basis so I could intercept the mail from the schools I had no interest in attending. I would throw away the response letters without even opening them. I didn’t care if I got in, I wasn’t going to Stanford or Florida State or whatever other fucking school they made me apply to. I tried to voice my opinion, but I could never get a word in, and if I did, it went in one ear and out the other.
My parents weren’t bad people, but they were overachievers. Always needing the best of the best and wouldn’t settle for anything less. Out of all of our families, mine was the best off financially. My parents’ had to have nice things. We lived in a big house in a high-end, gated community. They were VIP members at the country club. They had new cars every year. We went on expensive vacations.
The whole nine yards.
To me, they were just keeping up with the Jones’.
I couldn’t tell you how many times the boys and Half-Pint’s parents fucked with my parents. Saying that they worked too much, that we didn’t own our things, they owned us.
I knew at the end of the day they wanted what was best for me. Not thinking that maybe I already knew what that was. They were suffocating me and they didn’t even realize it. In their eyes, everything was the way it was supposed to be.
Which was why I had been holding onto the acceptance letter for the last three months, debating on telling them. Praying every day that they would be supportive of my decision, even though I knew in my heart that they would shut it down. All my life I felt like my parents, the boys, and maybe even Alex, were all trying to mold me into something I wasn’t.
Something they wanted me to be.
I never felt accepted, I never felt good enough, and that’s what killed me the most. That’s what ate away at me, piece by piece.