Wild Like Us (Like Us 8)

“It’s not fucking happening,” I say.

Charlie shrugs, but he doesn’t push the topic. Maybe knowing that it’s a lost cause tonight.

Arkham barks from outside the motel room, and for some reason it promotes a yawn from me. Fuck, I forgot how tired I am.

Maximoff watches me, “We’re staying in a hotel in the next city over. I can drive your Jeep, if you, Akara, and Banks want to head that way with us.”

I glance at the sleeping mats on the floor. Even though this was a gross pit stop, I’d be bummed leaving it behind.

Skipping a step in the journey sounds like taking an easy out to the hard trek I committed to. I can hear my mom encouraging me to stay. You can meet-up with them soon. Don’t fast-track anything.

“That’s okay,” I say. “I think we’ll probably just crash here. The fucking adventure, you know.”

He smiles. “Yeah, I know.”

I smile back more. “We’ll catch up with you tomorrow though?”

Jane says, “Most surely.”

Charlie climbs off the bed and makes his way to the door with Maximoff.

“How’d you all get here so fast anyway?” I wonder.

“Private plane,” Charlie says.

My brows rise at Moffy. He hates splurging on that luxury for a random trip. “I lost a coin toss with Charlie,” Maximoff admits.

Charlie smiles. “And we arrived on time. So we all win.”

I mention, “Winona and Ben would say the Earth lost.”

Moffy nods strongly.

Charlie just stares at me, “Then you should take pleasure in the fact that we care more about you than the Earth.”

I snort, “Way to spin it.”

“Toujours,” he replies in French as he leaves the motel.

“See you tomorrow, Sul,” Moffy nods and leaves.

Jane remains. Slinging her purse on the crook of her elbow, she twirls to me in her usual breezy way. “So I take it Akara and Banks still haven’t given you an answer on the virginity-taking front?”

I think about Banks’ lips on mine, and my face heats.

“I revoked the offer,” I end up saying.

She squints. “Is that…a good thing? Are we happy about that?”

I shrug slowly. “I…I don’t know.” Now after kissing Banks, everything is more complicated.

She plants a sisterly gaze onto me. Consoling. Comforting. “Doubt only lasts so long. You’ll have a better sense of things in time. I’m sure of it.”

I smile. “Thanks, Jane.”

We hug again, and when she leaves, the motel room is eerily quiet. I hope I didn’t make a fucking mistake telling them to go on without me.

My phone pings.

Heads up, Minnie. The rest of the A-Squad are on their way to you! Sorry I couldn’t make it. Tom is freaking about his next show. He had a fight with the replacement drummer – Queen of Thebula

Luna.

The A-Squad is mostly an inside joke between us. She dubbed the five oldest of the families that nickname, which include Jane, Maximoff, Charlie, Beckett, and me. But with Jane, Moffy, and Charlie as a clique right now, I’m feeling more like a member of the B-Team. Which doesn’t even really exist.

I text back: Thanks for the heads up! Just saw them. All accounted for minus Beckett. Tell Tom I wish him good luck xoxo

Huh. Bad intel then. Sorry!!! Thought Beckett was going too. – Queen of Thebula

How she even gets any information is beyond me. I don’t have many lines into the family network, and the ones that I do have…I know I’m not the first or second call. Maybe not even the fifth. I’m on the bottom of so many of the family friendship groups.

It didn’t used to bother me so much until I lost Beckett. Maybe Charlie is right—I should just talk to him. But the thought of hearing his voice, it brings a sharp pain to my chest.

I don’t know how to confront that pain head-on without causing more turmoil.

Akara.

I close my eyes and drop the washcloth off my foot.

How am I going to tell him about my kiss with Banks? It’s going to change everything.

12

BANKS MORETTI

“I kissed her.”

This confession should probably be made to a priest or a higher being, but right now my brother is the most holy thing I’ve got in a five-hundred-meter vicinity. In short: I’m fucked.

Thatcher grabs my forearm and pulls me further into the shadows. Away from the motel’s flickering vacancy sign that’s changed to no vacancy. Even further away from the motel’s parking lot where the rest of SFO linger beside two rental cars.

At the corner of the motel, it’s just me and my brother. Half-hidden by an overflowing dumpster and the darkness. In earshot of nobody.

Even among busted streetlights, I can still see Thatcher’s expression clear as day. Maybe because I’ve seen that intense look before.

“Say again,” Thatcher whispers, his voice deep and low.

“I kissed her,” I reply in the same tone. “You know mouth-to-mouth—”

“I know what kissing is,” Thatcher snaps. “I’m just processing the fact that you actually went through with it.”