Chapter 31
MATES
Johnny
Dust kicked up around the car as they took a slow drive up to the pack house. After nearly destroying the suspension, it seemed they’d shaken a wire loose in the air conditioning too, making the car a literal hot box, which was just fucking great.
They’d driven the track to the pack house a thousand times before, but that evening it felt different. Like they were about to walk in and tear the place down. Taylor sidled up to him as they got out of the car, and they ambled up the remainder of the driveway hand in hand, more slowly than usual.
Rock music blared from the top left window, indicating that Gabriella’s grunge phase was in full swing.
“Should we knock? I feel like we should knock,” Taylor said, fidgeting and rubbing his neck.
Johnny sighed, tugging his hand away. “When have we ever knocked? That’ll make things weirder, don’t you think?”
Taylor shuffled from foot to foot, pulling back. “Will it? I just think it’d be polite, and now that I really think about it I wish I’d worn a shirt, and maybe trousers, and why the fuck did you let me wear my ratty old trainers?”
Johnny laughed, running his eyes up and down Taylor’s body. He was wearing his usual football shorts, a black vest and Converse. Like every other non-workday in summer.
“Why do you want to dress up? It’s not like you’re meeting my parents for the first time.” He shook his head, dragging Taylor up the drive.
“But it’s respectful, you know? What if Maman thinks I’m scruffy, or the girls don’t like me anymore? Oh God, what if Marty rejects me? Maybe I should just stay at home, wait for this whole thing to blow over.”
Johnny turned, hooking a hand into Taylor’s waistband and pulling him close. “I’m sorry to break it to you, baby-cakes, but this thing is not going to blow over.”
Taylor rubbed his neck again, nibbling his bottom lip. “I know that, I just… What if the kids don’t accept me?”
Johnny’s mouth opened and closed several times, his heart melting a little as he watched Taylor frown at the ground. Sliding an arm around his shoulders, he pulled him in for a tight, sweaty hug.
“What are you talking about? They’ve accepted you since the day they were born. You’re their brother, Tay. You’ve been a part of this family for fifteen years.”
Taylor shrugged. “I don’t know. I just… I feel like it’s all going to be snatched away the second things change.”
Johnny ran a hand down Taylor’s chest, resting it over his heart. “It won’t. I promise.”
After several more minutes of gentle persuasion, Johnny finally coaxed Taylor into the house. They were greeted by the usual wall of noise and Papa’s cap bobbing behind his newspaper. The scent of Maman’s cooking wafted into Johnny’s nostrils, settling his nerves.
Papa dropped the paper a couple of inches, looking up at them. “Evening, boys,” he said, looking them up and down and wiggling his eyebrows.
Taylor withered, sliding back out the front door. “He’s being weird, JP. I-I-I can’t handle him being weird.”
Johnny caught his elbow, pulling him back into the house. “You, get it together.” He turned and shot his dad a venomous look. “And you stop doing that thing with your eyebrows.”
Papa dropped the paper again, a toothy grin plastered across his face. “I just can’t wait to watch you try and explain this to the girls. It’s going to be comedy gold. And actually, if I get the camera out, I could use it at the wedding.”
“Wedding?” Gabriella said, space buns bobbing as she came barrelling down the stairs. “What wedding? When? Can I get a new dress?”
Papa’s smile grew even wider. “You’ll have to ask your brothers, mon trésor.”
Gabriella frowned, eyes darting to Johnny before drifting to his neck.
A riot of emotions washed over her face before settling on cold, hard disdain.
“Clem!” she screamed, leaping off the last two steps and darting into the kitchen.
“Clem! Clemmm! It’s happening! Get the water guns, fill the balloons! ”
“Oh my fucking God,” Taylor said, and Johnny grabbed his arm before he could turn tail and run.
He dragged him into the kitchen, shoving him into the corner. There was a maelstrom of frantic shouts and banging cupboards before the girls finally reappeared in the kitchen, each clutching a massive Super Soaker.
“Where are they?” Clementine snarled, pumping the gun as she stared at Johnny’s neck. Her thick glasses were fogged up, ruining the intimidating look a little.
“Who?” Johnny said, holding up both hands as laughter bubbled in his throat.
“Don’t be stupid, JP.” She jabbed the gun towards his neck. “The alpha that did that to you. Who are they? Is it serious? You’re not actually getting married, are you? We won’t allow it.”
Johnny crossed his arms, driving his tongue into the side of his cheek. “Oh really? And you think you have a say in the matter, Sisters?”
“Of course we do! You’ve never brought anyone to the pack house before.”
Johnny blinked several times, and the confusion must have shown on his face because the girls lowered their weapons. “So, if I did want to bring someone home, you’re saying you’d shoot them with water?”
Gabriella nodded, pumping the gun again.
Sighing, Taylor stepped out from behind him. “Listen, girls—”
“You!” Clementine yelled, “Why didn’t you stop this? Why didn’t—” She fell silent as her eyes darted to Taylor’s neck. “No. No. No. No. No. Not you too! Gabby, get the jet wash, this is war.”
Just then, Maman came darting through the back door, a daisy crown woven through her thick braids and Marty at her heels clutching a sandwich bag full of conkers.
“Girls! Put the guns down,” she said, snatching the bag of half-filled water balloons out of Gabriella’s hand.
“And sit down. All of you. John-Paul and Taylor have something they want to tell you.”
“We already know,” Clementine said, dropping the pistol onto the counter and wiping her glasses with the hem of her shirt. “We figured it out. They’re leaving us. Starting their own pack.” Her lip curled up when she said ‘pack.’
“Fuck me,” Taylor muttered, clutching Johnny’s wrist as they all sat down.
Maman brought out a jug of lemonade whilst Papa slid a plate of flower shaped moon cakes into the middle of the table. Taylor grabbed one, shoving the whole thing into his mouth before taking another. Gabriella did the same, glaring daggers at Johnny as crumbs fell onto her Iron Maiden T-shirt.
Marty climbed onto Taylor’s lap, totally oblivious to the massive bite mark marring his neck. “William’s visiting his mum,” he said, grabbing Taylor’s arms and pulling them around him like a safety harness. “They’ve gone to Alton Towers. I asked if I could go but Kat said no.”
Taylor sniffed the top of Marty’s head. “Bummer,” he murmured into his hair.
Maman situated herself between the girls, Papa near the back door. They both smiled and nodded encouragingly, making it absolutely clear that this was something they were going to have to tackle on their own.
He and Taylor glanced at one another, having already agreed that Johnny would do the talking, so after taking a deep breath, he said, “Um… so… funny thing…” He coughed, throat suddenly dry. “You know that Taylor isn’t actually your biological brother.”
Gabriella rolled her eyes. “Obviously. We aren’t stupid.”
Marty gasped, looking up at Taylor with a hurt expression. “W-what? Y-you… What?”
Taylor kissed his cheek, cuddling him closer.
“Well, you know that we live together outside of the pack house,” Johnny continued, looking at Taylor with a pleading expression. “And that we’re… friends. As well as… brothers.”
Taylor shook his head, eyebrows scrunching in a look of intense disgust.
“N-no, I mean, we are not brothers. We don’t want to be brothers, and—”
“No!” Marty wailed. “No! No! Taylor’s my brother! My big brother!”
Johnny held up a hand. Fuck, he was messing this up big time. “Yes, Marty. He’s your brother, but he isn’t mine.”
“I don’t understand,” Marty cried again, turning in Taylor’s lap and wrapping his arms around him like a baby gorilla. “Why don’t you want to be Tay’s brother? Please don’t send him away!”
Johnny leaned over to ruffle his hair. “He isn’t going anywhere. I know it’s confusing, but Taylor and I, we’re—”
Johnny could feel his face turning numb, and he realised that on the drive over he must have been existing on pure adrenaline, because now he was staring down the loaded barrel of his two sisters he wasn’t sure he could get the words out.
“Uh—”
“We’re mates,” Taylor blurted out, staring so hard at the table it was like he was trying to burn a hole through it.
Then, silence.
And more… silence.
Johnny glanced at his dad, who, for all intents and purposes was nodding and smiling, but his eyes looked worried as they bounced between the kids.
Eventually, Clementine steepled both hands in front of her, leaning on the table as though she was an investor on Dragons’ Den. “I see,” she said, looking between them. “And when did this happen?”
Taylor rubbed his neck. “I-it’s a long story. But you should know that nothing is going to change.”
Gabriella scrunched her face. “You aren’t going to start kissing in front of us, are you? Because that would be disgusting. Ew, you’re blushing.”
Taylor was indeed blushing, which made some of the feeling come back into Johnny’s face.
“Sooooo,” Clementine continued. “When’s the wedding, because I need at least a month to plan my outfit.”
“Yeah, and can I get a silk press?” Gabriella asked, raising her eyebrows at Maman. “And does that mean William can go and live with them? Because he’s annoying.”
“Girls,” Maman finally piped up. “Don’t be unkind.”
Taylor squeezed his knee under the table, and Johnny squeezed back. “We aren’t getting married,” Johnny continued, holding up his other hand. “That’s not what we’re saying.”
“No?” Taylor said, eyebrows pulling together.