39. Ethan
39
Ethan
W orking at the garage, I could feel the hunger settle in close to noon. With all the scheduled meals Bailey’s parents had been insisting I eat, my body was getting accustomed to eating regularly. I had spent all yesterday with Bailey, working around the barn and fixing odd jobs until we had to leave for our football review.
Review day had mostly consisted of praise. Even as Coach went over the tapes, he gave us more props than criticism. We had some tweaks, and one of the plays we’d run obviously wasn’t strong, so we would be throwing that into regular practice with our bread-and-butter plays, the ones that came naturally to us. Watching Bailey get creamed on screen was worse than watching it in real time on the field. I could see it coming this time, and there was no stopping it. But every time she bounced back, I settled back into my seat.
We spent all afternoon and into the night taking beans off the field. She taught me to drive the tractor and haul the bins while she drove the combine. Now and then, she’d get on the radio, teasing me about being a farm boy now. The other farm hands picked up on the banter and added their own friendly jabs, one saying they needed to get me on a horse now. Screw that. While I would watch Bailey ride until the day I died, I refused to get on a one-ton unpredictable animal.
The bell to the front door of the garage rang. “We’re closed!” I called out.
Chase walked around the corner. “I brought lunch,” he said, holding up a brown paper bag.
I set down the rag I held in my hand. “Hey, just because we are good now doesn’t mean we have to start some sort of bromance.” The smell hit me, and my stomach growled. “Is that…a burger from Tom’s?”
“The one and only.” He found a clear bench and set the bag down, along with two fountain drinks.
“Okay, maybe I can spare a few minutes.” I grabbed one of the drinks and took a sip. Damn, it was the root beer. Root beer was my favorite pop, but the one from Tom’s was the best.
Chase took out a couple of burgers and fries and set them up for us in the drink cup holder, like we used to do when we were kids. We stood at the workbench in silence for a while as we ate. I was too hungry and focused on eating to carry a conversation.
“So, why’d you come down here? What’s with the food?” I asked suspiciously as I crammed more fries in my mouth.
Chase shrugged. “I don’t know. We used to eat at Tom’s all the time. I was in the area and hungry.”
“We used to eat at Tom’s to get out of my house when my dad was going apeshit,” I said.
“True. What’s with the bruise on your chin?” Chase asked.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I got it during the game.”
Chase took a long sip of his drink before setting it down. “So, he’s still doing it.”
I sighed. There was no bullshitting Chase. I wasn’t even sure Bailey had bought the lie yesterday. “Why would he have any reason to stop?”
“I just thought, with you being bigger now, he would back off.”
I shook my head. “I learned, when it comes to people on drugs, they worry about nothing but their next fix. I’m not my father’s son. I’m the kid that drove his wife away, and then I was the kid that brought the paycheck in. I’m under no illusion about who I am to him, and fighting back only caused more trouble.” A few more months, and I’d be an adult and free of the vermin.
Chase sat back, a heavy look in his eyes that made me uncomfortable. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Genetics are the luck of the draw.”
Chase looked down at the half-eaten burger in his hand. “When the rumors started going around about you getting into fights, and how badass and mean you were, I didn’t get it. You were a bit of a brute, but the only time you even struck anyone was to defend yourself. You know, you were wrong about Bailey being the only one who wanted you in the group. The group felt right when you started hanging with us, with me.”
“Don’t get sappy. I already put up with Nolan and Lachlan. I don’t need it from you too.”
He chuckled. “Well, then, listen, you thickheaded cretin. I saw the black eyes, bruises, broken arm that, thank fuck, happened at the end of football season, and I did shit. I heard the rumors of the fights, but I knew who was actually giving them to you, and I’m sorry.”
“I don’t care.”
“Liar.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Liar.”
I rolled my eyes and looked away, hating the way he was staring at me.
“See, Bailey isn’t the only one that can put you in your place.” I ignored him, finishing my burger and drowning it with a few large gulps of root beer. “I called the priest.”
Everything in me stilled, but I refused to look at him.
“I didn’t do it for you, or so I told myself. I did it for myself, because I couldn’t sleep knowing the only safe place you had was my place, and it was gone. I went to the church and asked if there was anything they could do. That’s how the priest found you.”
Even if Chase had offered help, I would’ve told him where he could shove it. My pain and anger over believing he’d backstabbed me turned my soul black. Now, though, knowing that he hadn’t taken the offer, that he had always stood by me, that everything Perry did for me was because Chase reached out to him, had a lump forming in my throat. There were cold nights I would’ve been on the streets if it wasn’t for Perry. Days I only survived because of his help. “You want me to say thank you?” I grunted around the lump.
“No.”
But the next few French fries didn’t slide down as easily as the first. “Thank you,” I whispered.
Chase pretended he didn’t hear me, stretching his arms over his head and nodding to the car. “So, what’s this car?”
I chuckled. “It’s a Kia. Nothing special.”
“What are you doing to it?”
“Replacing the brake pads.” I pointed to the open box of brand-new parts.
“Need help? I don’t know much, but I can hold a flashlight.”
I didn’t need help, but it was as if Chase needed a place to escape for a while, so I lied and told him I could use his help. Mainly, he sat on a stool, holding a light I didn’t need, while I got to work.
He asked about Bailey’s parents, wondering why I didn’t take their offer for room and board with a job. The answer? I didn’t want to burden them. However, after yesterday, I did agree to come help them out around the farm with whatever they needed.
Then Chase started talking about his dad. He hadn’t seen him in months. Vincent Jacobs had left for a work-related trip at some point during the summer without telling his son.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” I asked.
“Who? Hadley knew, and she used it as an excuse to come over and throw parties whenever. None of you would’ve accepted an invitation, even if I handed one out.”
True. “That changes,” I told him. “No more of this bullshit.”
“Yeah, I turn eighteen tomorrow and get kicked out.”
Because of me.
“It’s not the most luxurious—instead of sneaking through the side entrance, I would be sneaking you through my window—but if you need a place, you can stay with me. I also happen to know a place with extra cots. Nothing fancy, but it makes do, and Perry makes a decent pancake breakfast.”
“Thanks, man.” He held his fist out, and I gently bumped it. “I have something in place.”
I nodded. “Well, brakes are done. There’s a storm coming in, but Bailey wanted to get a horse ride in. I’m sort of helping her with that. Do you want to come?”
“I’m good. I’m meeting up with Lachlan. I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah. See you later.” He was meeting with Lachlan. I could feel my brows knit together in suspicion. “Hey, Chase,” I called out to him. Chase turned around, walking backward slowly, like he was edging away. “You good?”
He stopped and stared at me for a moment. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yes. If we have a good storm, we should hang out at the pitts later today.”
“I’ll be there. Text me if you’re going.”
“I will. See you.”
Still, something didn’t feel right.