Chapter 5 Ash
ASH
Visiting Ravens Ridge is my favorite thing about summer. For two whole months, I get to hang out with my brother. We’re really close, so it’s been hard since he moved out of Mom’s.
Mom waited around for a while when she dropped me off this afternoon, but Shane never showed up. She blamed his absence on Gran letting him hang out at the Riders’ club. My dad was in the club when we were younger, and he’d drag us along sometimes. But I never really understood what they did there.
For the record, it’s not Gran’s fault. Wherever Shane goes, trouble follows.
He will show up, though. He wouldn’t ditch me like this. We always spend our summers together. Once, he took me to the movie theater when they opened, and we stayed all day watching one after another. He’s my best friend.
I’m in my room unpacking when the front door opens.
“She waited around all day! Where have you been?” Gran yells, which is weird because she never yells. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”
I scramble from my room to stand in the doorway but still out of sight.
“Out,” Shane mumbles.
“Are you high?” I can’t see them, but I imagine she’s grabbing his face, squeezing his cheeks together to look into his eyes like she does to decide if we’re telling the truth.
“No,” he mumbles.
“Were you high?”
He doesn’t answer. I creep down the hall and peek around the corner. My shoulder bumps one of the hanging pictures, but I catch it before it falls.
“Shane Andrew Michaels, answer me right this—”
“Yes! Jesus, fuck off would you—”
Gran spins on him, waving her finger in his face. Through tight lips, she says, “Don’t you dare speak to me like—”
Shane starts to say something, but then his bloodshot eyes meet mine, and he takes a step back from her. He’s sweaty and pale. Huffing a breath, he shoves past Gran, then me, barreling to his room and slamming the door behind him.
Gran forces a smile, straightening out her blue button-down blouse. “Hello, sweetheart. I’m gonna go out for a smoke. Why don’t you come with me?” she asks, gesturing toward the porch.
She walks toward me, resting a hand on my back.
Gran’s small but mighty. She’s where I get my short stature from. Her gray hair’s pulled away from her face with a sparkly silver clip.
She steps out onto the porch, packing her cigarettes on the way to the swing. I close the door behind me and sit next to her.
“Your brother’s a pain in my ass.” She shakes her head as she lights one up. “He’s just like his damn dad.”
Barely more than a whisper, I say, “I don’t think he’s anything like Dad.”
I know Shane—he’s brave. He might be the way he is because of our dad, but he’s not cruel. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone. No one really understands him… they didn’t see what he went through.
Well, no one except me.
She exhales, squeezing her eyes shut. Her shoulders slump. “You alright?”
I nod, picking at a string on my denim shorts.
“He’s happy you’re here. He’s just having a hard time. That’s all.”
“I know,” I mutter.
“He’ll be better tomorrow. Let him sleep it off. The old Shane’ll be back by mornin’.”
She finishes her cigarette before going back inside, leaving me on the swing. I don’t want Shane to have a hard time. His whole life’s been a hard time.
My bare feet sweep back and forth against the carpeted porch as I fight back tears. If Shane was out here with me, he’d probably tell me to quit being a big baby. I sniff them away as a blonde pulls up on a bike.
She stops in front of the house in cut-off shorts, a T-shirt that’s too big, and a backward baseball cap.
“Who are you?” she asks, smacking a piece of gum.
I stare at her for a moment, taken aback by her sharp tone.
When I don’t answer right away, she snaps, “You can’t speak? You know the boy that lives here’s weird too.”
“No, I just—” I shake my head, pinching my brows together. “Jesus, have you heard of manners?”
She hesitates, dropping her hands to her sides. “It was a joke.”
“It wasn’t funny, and you shouldn’t pop your gum like that. It’s tacky.”
She chuckles before climbing off her bike and jogging up to the porch. Flopping down on the swing, she holds out a hand. “I’m Nik.”
Taking her hand, I say, “Ash.”
“How old are you?” she asks.
“I’m almost sixteen.”
“Cool! I’m almost seventeen.” She rolls her eyes dramatically. “I got held back though, so I’m gonna be in high school until I die.”
I laugh again. She is… a lot.
I’m reading on the couch when the doorbell rings.
“I got it!” I shout, darting across the room. Hopefully it’s my new friend because my brother still hasn’t come out of his room since his fight with Gran yesterday, and I’m bored to death.
Ripping open the front door, I’m stopped dead in my tracks. It’s a boy—a really cute boy.
His blond hair is short, and his face is angular in a way that would make him seem like a man if it wasn’t for his bright blue eyes and pouty lips. He’s tall. Like really tall. So tall, in fact, that he looks over my head into the house instead of at me.
“Shane here?” he asks.
I blink, my mouth popping open, unable to pry my eyes from his mouth.
His gaze drops to mine and he lifts a brow. “Speak much?”
God, what is with these people?
Snapping out of it, I say, “Huh?”
His lips press together. “You Shane’s kid sister?”
I scowl. “I’m not a kid.”
My height makes me look young, but I’m actually only two years younger than my dipshit brother. He just turned eighteen and thinks that makes him a man, but that’s because he’s like I said before… a dipshit.
“Sure.” He grins. “Is he here?”
Shane pushes past me onto the porch. “He’s here for me.” He nods to the cute boy and says, “Gabe.”
I wrinkle my nose. The idiot didn’t even bother putting on pants. He’s standing on the porch in a shirt and boxers. He looks better than he did yesterday, though.
But he sure as hell doesn’t smell better. Jesus, did he forget how to use deodorant? Or does he just think the cigarette smoke covers the B.O.?
“Let’s go,” Gabe says, his eyes dropping. “Uh… maybe put on some pants first.”
He glances down, then back to Gabe. “Oh, shit. Alright. I’ll be right back.”
He squeezes my shoulder as he passes. “I’ll be back later, and we can hang out.”
I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. “Whatever.”
Gabe lifts his brows before jogging off the porch. He climbs through the open window of an old blue sports car—yes, the window—instead of opening the door and climbing in like a normal person. I roll my eyes again.
Boys are so weird.
“Morning, Gran.” Stretching my arms, I pad across the kitchen, still in my pink pajamas.
Gran’s seated at the kitchen table, the paper in one hand, her Tweety Bird coffee mug in the other. Bob Dylan plays over her outdated CD player on the counter.
“Morning, sweetheart. What’s on the agenda for today?”
I shrug. “I might go down to the lake. Where’s Shane?”
She puts the paper down, shooting me a sad look. “Who knows? Probably out being a thorn in my damn side.”
A familiar scent fills my nose. “French toast?”
She grins. “I’d have let you help me, but you slept half the morning. Your plate’s in the microwave.”
I turn, eager to get to my favorite breakfast when the front door flies open.
“Look who decided to join us.” Gran scoffs, returning her eyes to the newspaper.
“I brought you something,” my brother coos, his footsteps growing closer to the kitchen. He sounds more like my brother.
Without glancing up at him, she says, “You can’t bribe me, Shane. You owe your sister an apology.”
“Oh, come on, Gran. I’m sorry.” He appears beside her, laying a few scratch-off tickets on the table.
She gives him an unimpressed look but slides the tickets into the pocket of her gray housecoat before gesturing toward me.
He glances to where I’m standing at the microwave. A mischievous grin brightens his face. “Ash…”
The way he draws out my name, I know what’s coming. Pointing my finger at him, I back up until my butt hits the counter. “No. Don’t even think about it!”
He keeps grinning that creepy little grin and lunges at me before I can get away, wrapping an arm around my neck and ruffling my curls.
“Goddamn it, Shane! Let go of me!” I flail.
“Are you gonna forgive me?”
“Are you gonna say sorry?”
He sighs but doesn’t let me out of the headlock. “I’m sorry. Time got away from me.”
“You’re such an asshole. Apology not accepted.” I jab my finger into his ribs, which are much easier to feel these days, and he lets go, grabbing his side.
“Ow!”
“Serves you right!”
“Come on, how long are you gonna be pissed?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe forever.”
A laugh rumbles his chest. “Yeah, okay. What’s it gonna take? You want a scratcher too?”
I hate that he knows I’m terrible at holding a grudge. He tries to pull me into a hug.
Shoving off him, I step back. “No, Shane. I want to spend the summer with my brother, but no one seems to know where he went. Instead, we have whoever this loser is in his place.”
“Ouch.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did that hurt your feelings? Good, it was supposed to.” I pull my breakfast from the microwave and push past him to sit at the table.
“Ash, I’m sorry. I promise we’ll hang out. I just have a lot of shit on my plate right now.”
I roll my eyes, and he plops down in the chair between Gran and me.
“Jesus, you’re as bad as Gran.” He tries to snatch a piece of French toast from my plate.
Gran swats the back of his hand. “No, we just love you. If you want us to be nice to you, grow the hell up.”
His playful demeanor dissipates. “I know. I’m working on it.”
“You better be.” Gran softens before dropping the newspaper and pointing toward the counter. “There’s another plate over there if you want it.”
His face lights as he jumps up.