4. Chapter 4
four
Boston
Iwasn’t planning on going to Jake’s tonight. Okay, at first I kind of thought about it. The idea of friends, music, and Skye was hard not to get excited about. Not too much, though, because my ultimate decision depended on my mom’s state. It always does.
I braced myself for the inevitable—that she was high, or coming down from something, or going through withdrawals. Any of those are a possibility at any given time.
After my dad died, things fell apart quietly.
At first there were a lot of people in and out of our house. They brought casseroles—so many fucking casseroles—and showered my mom and me with sympathy and “let us know if you need anything.” That sympathy all but dried up within two weeks of my dad’s funeral.
The bills kept coming, though. Weirdly enough, electrical companies and banks don’t really care if the sole income earner died and there’s no one left to pay outstanding balances.
My dad’s insurance money and the wrongful death settlement kept us afloat. Until it didn’t.
We lost our home first.
Then our car.
And then I lost the last remnants of my mom—the version of her that clawed her way out of her grief with the help of anti-anxiety medication.
She’s still medicating, except that the things she takes now are neither covered by insurance nor dispensed by the pharmacy. What exactly that is, though, I don’t know. And I don’t want to. Self-preservation.
Sure enough, when I got home with Cassie and Bronx after taking them for burgers and shakes today—takeout in hand because I figure my mom hadn’t eaten all day—she shuffled out of her bedroom looking fifteen years older than a woman who’d barely turned thirty-eight.
That’s when I figured I wasn’t going anywhere tonight.
But that didn’t stop Jake from blowing up my phone for over an hour, reminding, begging, then demanding I drag my ass to his birthday party immediately. And my mom insisted I go. She promised to make pizza for Cassie and Bronx, that she’d sit and play Chutes and Ladders with them.
“Is shitface coming over tonight?” I asked, arms folded over my chest.
“His name’s Eddie,” she scolded. “And no, he’s working tonight.”
“How about anyone else?” Eddie isn’t the only unsavory dude to come knocking on our door. Sometimes men show up, looking to get paid. And sometimes that means I take Cassie and Bronx out for ice cream, whether they want it or not.
My mom shook her head, smiling. “No. We’re good. I promise.”
I didn’t tell her I don’t trust her promises—that I’ve come home one too many times to her passed out or doing who-knows-what in her bedroom while Cassie and Bronx were left completely unsupervised.
I don’t really leave my siblings with her unless I’m sure she’s alone, sober, and safe for them to be around.
But tonight, she seemed… okay. Tired, but present. Her eyes weren’t glassy. Her speech wasn’t slurred. She didn’t move in slow-mo.
I thought about how nice it would be to not be needed for a couple hours.
And, yeah, I thought about Skye. About how maybe I’d finally work up the courage to ask her to winter formal.
I mean, she’s way out of my league. I have exactly nothing to offer her.
And I don’t dance. But I do have one of my dad’s old suits that finally fits, so…
That’s what convinced me.
Now I’m on the bus making my way toward the really nice part of Stillwater.
Jake lives in a gated community by the golf course, and for his sixteenth birthday, his parents gifted him a new Audi S5.
My friends are all like that—carefree, doted on, comfortable.
They’re all involved in extracurricular activities.
Jake, Pacey, and Jonathan play soccer, and Lily and Skye—god, Skye; way out of my league—ride horses. Like, the fancy kind.
None of them work to support their families. None of them have one parent in the ground while the other does whatever she can to stay numb.
Once off the bus, I walk another ten minutes, then punch in the code and wait for the iron gates to open.
It’s clear the party’s in full swing when I make my way to the house. The loud thump of the music reaches me before I’m even at the driveway. I bet every kid in the community got invited, ensuring none of the surrounding parents are going to call the cops. Jake’s fucking smart like that.
“Holy shit, you’re really here,” Jake shouts from the kitchen when I walk in the house. He hurries toward me, leaving behind an offended-looking girl who I could’ve sworn Jake just had his arm around.
“Did you just ditch your date to say hi to me?”
Jake waves me off. “Nah, don’t worry. She’ll be there when I get back.” He claps a hand on my shoulder. “Glad you made it, Boss.”
I grin. “Yeah, well, anything for you.”
“Liar.” He gives my arm a light jab. “I’ve had three girls ask about you already.”
“Oh, yeah? Like who?” I ask casually, like I’m not hoping to hear Skye’s name.
“Well, there was Karianna, but I know you’ve been there, done… her,” Jake says with a shit-eating grin. “Morgan, and, well, you know Lily’s got a thing for you, right?”
“Lily Lily?” I ask, even though I know the answer.
“Yeah, like, Jonathan’s cousin.” Jake laughs. “The one you tripped on purpose when we were playing basketball when we were ten and she broke her wrist.”
“I didn’t trip her on purpose.”
“Uh-huh, sure,” he says dryly. “But you do know she’s got a thing for you, right?”
“Who has a thing for Boss?” Jonathan sidles up with a red plastic cup in hand.
It’s filled to the brim with some red-brownish soup.
I bet it’s Jake’s special “punch”—cherry Kool-Aid mixed with every kind of booze in his parents’ liquor cabinet.
It tastes like cough syrup, but it gets the job done.
Fast. Maybe I should have a couple of sips before I try to find Skye.
Jake gives Jonathan a one-shouldered shrug. “Your cousin.”
Jonathan groans. “Oh god, yeah. Boss, do me a favor and just let her ride your cock tonight. She needs to get you out of her system. She seriously doesn’t shut up about you. It’s annoying.”
I groan. “Dude. Stop.”
“I’m serious.” He turns, then shouts: “Skye, back me up!”
I follow his gaze and, shit, everything zooms in on her. Skye’s standing in the living room, chatting with… Archer. Archer, whose hand is on her lower back.
Are they here together?
Something shifts in my chest like a string being pulled too taut, too fast. Maybe he just touched her to get her attention. It’s nothing, probably.
Except he doesn’t move his hand and she doesn’t step away.
I shake my head, clearing it.
Skye looks over, and her eyes widen briefly when they land on me.
“Hey, come here!” Jonathan calls to her.
Skye smiles at Archer before crossing the room. He falls into step beside her, sliding his fingers through hers almost as if to make sure she doesn’t get too far ahead.
That’s not nothing. That’s very much something.
“Hey, guys,” Skye chirps.
“Hey, Stormy.” My voice comes out low, but the tug of her lips tells me she heard me.
“Can you or can you not confirm that my cousin has the hots for Boston?” Jonathan asks.
“Oh, uh,” Skye stammers, cheeks turning pink. Her eyes move to mine, and this time, they linger.
I manage a smile. She’s fucking gorgeous tonight—short skirt, black boots, white turtleneck that hugs her in all the right places. She’s completely covered but still somehow devastating.
“Uh, yeah, obviously,” Archer grunts before Skye can answer. “Not sure why, but Lily definitely wants you to bone her.”
“Arch,” Skye mutters, elbowing him gently.
“What, it’s the truth, isn’t it?” His tone’s softer now that he’s speaking to her.
I swallow as my chest hollows with the realization that my noble intentions, my dad’s old suit, and any courage Jake’s special punch might lend me don’t change the math.
And the math is that guys like me don’t end up with girls like Skye.
Guys like Archer do.
Skye turns back to me. “Okay, yeah, maybe Lily said something about liking you.”
I exhale deeply. Of course I knew this. Lily hasn’t made any obvious moves, but I’ve picked up on her signals. Still, part of me hoped I was mistaken. She’s sweet and easy to be around, but the problem is that my head and heart have already chosen someone else.
And asking Lily out just because I know she’d say yes feels wrong.
Right on cue, Lily bounds into the kitchen, Pacey right behind her. “I heard my name,” she says.
“Oh, you know, we’re just trying to convince Boss—” Jonathan starts, ready to make this really fucking awkward for us.
I jam my elbow into him before he can finish.
“We should plan a snowboarding trip to Afton,” Jake jumps in.
“Shit, that’s a great idea,” Pacey exclaims. “We can stay at my parents’ cabin. Like, at the end of February.” He pulls out his phone to plan things while I’m desperately trying not to notice Archer's arm around Skye’s shoulder—or the pit in my stomach.