Chapter Six
Andy held the door to The Grill open for me with one broad arm, the bell above it clanking against the glass. Cool air met us first, then the smell of fryer grease and barbecue sauce cooked too long in metal pans.
The walls inside were yellowed with age and freckled by water stains that bloomed across the ceiling tiles in brown halos.
In the dining room, glass-eyed deer heads watched over everyone, cobwebs sagging between their antlers.
Their mouths were stitched into expressions that looked almost human if you stared too long. I always tried not to.
A server called out from behind the register, asking what we wanted, and Andy was already steering me forward with his hand at my back.
“Your tutor is staring at you,” he said in a lilting tone after he paid for our take out.
Through the front window, the parking lot shimmered in the midday heat.
Wyatt’s car sat crooked beside the gas pump, packed full of more bodies than I could count from here.
He was outside, tugging the nozzle free from the tank.
In the backseat, August leaned against the rolled-down window, one arm hanging out, wrist loose, ringed fingers tapping against the door.
His green eyes were on me. Even through the glass, I could feel the heat of his gaze.
“I’m gonna go say hi,” I said to Andy over my shoulder.
Andy caught my chin and turned me back to him. His lips pressed to mine with the kind of confidence boys had when they’d never been denied anything. Long enough to be noticed. Short enough to stay playful. Possessive all the same.
“Don’t take too long,” he said with a grin.
Outside, the sun hit me hard enough to make me squint. Gravel shifted beneath my Mary Janes as August was already climbing out of the backseat.
“Where are you going?” Wyatt groaned.
“Give me a second, man.” August didn’t take his eyes off mine as he crossed the lot.
A car behind them tapped its horn. Wyatt threw both hands in the air, shoved the pump back into place, and pulled the car toward a parking spot with the irritation of a betrayed man.
Two girls climbed out laughing—one tall and curly-haired, one petite with dark hair that shone purple in the sunlight.
I knew their faces from school, though I didn’t know their names.
I stopped in front of August. “Thought you didn’t have girl friends,” I taunted.
He shrugged, and replied casually, “Pen and Ang don’t count.”
“Why’s that?” I asked with a tilt of my head.
He ignored the question entirely, looking me over instead. His gaze moved from my dark braids to my white dress down to the dust gathered along my stockings.
“You always dress like a baby when you go to church?”
I pouted automatically. “How do you know I was at church?”
He let out a humorless laugh through his nose. “Because it’s eleven on a Sunday, and we live in bum-fuck nowhere.”
I smiled before I could help it. “You don’t go to church,” I quipped.
“No,” he answered flatly. “I don’t.”
I stared up at him for a moment, expecting there to be some explanation to follow, but none came. An eighteen-wheeler groaned past on the highway, filling the brief silence.
“Is that a stipulation of our arrangement, Lola?” he asked. “Because I’m not really into the whole conversion dynamic.”
I raised a hand to shield my eyes from the sun as I tilted my head back to meet his gaze. “No,” I said slowly. “I think I might like you better for it.” I couldn’t help the wide teasing smile I gave him.
The flush that spread across his cheeks came quick and bright, coral under tan skin. I’d seen it before and liked it more every time. I leaned in a little. “Don’t tell anyone, though.” I said in a conspiratorial whisper.
“Our secret,” he promised with a smirk.
Something tender moved through me then, quick as a bird through brush.
August had always been rough edges and sarcasm and eyes that missed nothing, but every now and then I caught some hidden softness beneath it, and it made me want to dig my manicured nails into the soil of him, until I unearthed the whole of it.
The girls came back then, both their arms carrying bags full of junk food.
“Come on, Brooks!” the curly-haired one called. “Games start soon!”
I looked at him with raised brows. “Thought you weren’t into sports.”
He stepped backward, hands lifted in surrender. “Special Olympics in Salisbury. Penelope’s brother is running in the race. We’re going to cheer him on.”
I’d spent years around boys who only loved things that they themselves could win. But August seemed to have no interest in anything that involved competition. Something about that made me feel a primal need to win him.
“You’re the most interesting person I know, August Brooks,” I said without thinking.
His pointed canines sunk into his bottom lip, holding back a grin, nearly tripping over his own feet as he said, “Not a lot of competition, aye, Lola Sinley?”
As I watched him duck back into the car, my whole body felt like it was on fire with the need to ask him to take me with him. Not just to Salisbury, but anywhere he was planning to go.
The bell over The Grill door rang again and Andy came out carrying a paper sack stained dark at the bottom with grease.
“What were y’all talking about?” The words were muffled around the fry in his mouth.
I turned to him. “They’re going to Salisbury, for the Special Olympics.”
Andy barked a laugh. “Exciting.”
“It might be fun,” I shrugged. “We could go.” He looked at me like I’d suggested we attend a funeral for strangers.
“Would I rather sit in the sun and watch a bunch of kids run around,” he smiled like he was being charming, “or would I rather take you back to your trailer, eat this cheeseburger, and fuck till your parents get home?” He said it like the crude remark was meant to be a compliment to me.
I laughed because that was what was expected of me. But when he reached for my hand, I thought of August blushing in the sunlight and promising to keep my secret, and for the first time in a long while Andy’s touch felt like something I had agreed to out of habit.