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My cheeks blazed in embarrassment. I knew Beckett didn’t like me, but his instinctive flinch made me feel like I was diseased. I tore my hands off him.
“Give me the joint or throw it away yourself.”
He held my gaze for a moment, brought the blunt to his lips for a long, indulgent inhale, and then flicked it out the open door.
Then he blew the smoke in my face, like an asshole. “Relax a little, Tiny. You’re so uptight.”
“And you’re just an idiot,” I muttered and stomped outside to put out the glowing orange butt. I hated the nickname. I was far from tiny. I was one of the tallest girls in our grade, but to Beckett, everyone was tiny.
“Takes one to know one,” Beckett chuckled.
“Great, now you’re ten,” I complained and stepped back inside.
Beckett was sitting back down at the table. I could see his huge pupils from where I stood. Black cutting through gray.
“I fucking wish. Being ten was awesome,” he sighed as he tucked his hands behind his head, the movement causing his shoulders and impressive biceps to bulge. He looked relaxed again, his mood as mercurial as his eyes.
“Yeah? What was so awesome about being ten?” I wondered as I poured myself a glass of water, then leaned against the counter to watch him.
He was dressed as some kind of Purge-style character, complete with a creepy mask on the table.
“Everything,” he said with a long exhale.
I thought about when Beckett was ten. It belatedly occurred to me that his birth mom must have still been alive.
I didn’t know what to say, and Beckett wasn’t exactly waiting for a response. I turned and refilled my glass.
When I turned around, I let out a yelp at the sight in front of me. A terrifying man in black stood in front of me, his face hidden beneath a scary mask with red Xs for eyes and a wide jagged mouth.
Beckett in his costume.
“Very funny. That was uncalled for.”
His voice sounded weird beneath the mask. It must have had a voice modulator attached. “But fun. And who are you? Selena? You nailed it.”
That burn on the head cheerleader at school pulled a giggle from me. “I’m just a zombie cheerleader.”
Beckett nodded slowly and then leaned in, trapping me against the sink. “That makes sense…seeing as you’ll probably die before ever making the squad.”
The unexpected insult sent my hackles up. I pushed at his chest while he laughed at his own lame joke. “Hilarious. You should have just gone as yourself for Halloween, you didn’t need a costume. You could’ve been a spoiled, selfish bully. You wouldn’t need a single prop.”
Beckett paused for a moment, and I tried not to be intimidated by the mask and his towering stature. “In that case, you should go as a clueless virgin – no need for a costume.”
I made a show of laughing, but he’d poked me in my weak spot. My brother’s overprotectiveness had become one of our only points of contention.
“Funnily enough, I have an excuse for never dating or hooking up with anyone…Asher’s a major cockblock. What’s your excuse, Beckett? The only person who dates less than me is you. Having performance problems at the grand old age of sixteen? It doesn’t bode well for your future, Mr. Big Shot Defenseman.”
Becket stared at me, the red Xs on his mask almost seeming angry. I glared right back. We’d never gotten along, but our animosity only seemed to grow as we got older, and it became harder to ignore each other. Our one common factor was Asher. Without him in the middle, we’d fight like cats and dogs. No one could push my buttons like Beckett.
“Guys?” Asher’s voice called from the doorway, sending harsh reality crashing over us.
We both turned toward him guiltily. He was staring between us, his brow scrunched.
“There’s no problem, right?” he worried after a moment.
“No, no problem,” Beckett said, at the same time as I spoke.
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
