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I have a feeling he’s going to continue asking me every day, and I look forward to the day my answer doesn’t suck anything out of him. I look forward to the day I’ll give him life instead of taking it from him.
Anyway, that’s all I got for now. That was today.
Tomorrow, I’ll tell you about your mother.
Chapter Eight
Dorian
Thatcher’s sister took over our lunch table again today, and though I appreciated what she was doing, I didn’t appreciate the ass-kissing bitches she brought with her.
And that was a catch-all term.
The guys, in fact, were the absolute worst and were quick to attempt to talk to Thatcher, Wells, and me instead of paying attention to Bow, i.e. the reason they were there. Thatcher’s sister had a peer group (mostly student council and other academy kids) who ran their own searches around Maywood Heights. They were looking for Sloane and her brother just like the city officials, and I think the only reason the parents let that fly was because they were escorted by local law enforcement.
These were also one of the few activities the guys and I could take part in where our parents didn’t blow a fucking gasket. We could help look for Sloane, but only on their terms, and Legacy’s participation in the search party had fuckers coming out of the woodwork across the campus to help. They wanted to find the long-lost Mallick girl.
Ass-kissing just came with the territory.
These fuckers were wearing shirts now. Slogans like Team Dorian + Sloane and other nonsense splayed across both girls’ and guys’ backs when Wells and I entered the lunchroom that day. Thatcher was already at our table. He and Bow’s search party groupies were inside today with the weather changing.
Things were getting cold.
I tried not to think about what that meant, things getting cold. We didn’t know where Sloane was, but that didn’t mean she and her brother were chilling in a forest somewhere. There were other places they could be, shelters…
I tried to think like two kids needing their space, but I couldn’t imagine the two had many resources. I mean, my grandpa had been providing for them until recently.
Wells pounded Thatcher’s fist, our buddy looking grateful as shit to see us. Thatcher had his collar popped, his tie loose, and about a million chunky rings on his knuckles to accompany his Court ring. Thatch touched ours together. “Bout fucking time,” he said, stealing a slice of pizza off my tray. It was mine and Wells’s day to cover lunch. He leaned forward. “I’m about to beat a bitch.”
A circulation of our table told why. We normally had groupie bitches, but usually, they were Court. They were part of the brother and sisterhood Legacy partook in.
Lately, it’d been a damn free-for-all. People were all over the place and trying to get a piece of us, a piece of me. They claimed to want to help, but they spent more time all over our jocks than actually listening to Bow who was at the head of the table. She was conducting some kind of meeting, but as soon as Wells and I arrived, the little attention she had shifted to us and Thatch. We got the normal song and dance of phony-ass concern. They wanted to know how we were faring and holding up.
They wanted to know if we had news.
The thing was, none of this shit was genuine. These people were benefiting off us, our popularity, way more than we were getting anything from them, and that pissed me the fuck off. These people thought this was a joke.
Which meant they thought my life was one.
The only thing keeping me in check during these ass-kissing lunches was the fact Bow was running them. They obviously weren’t doing much, but that wasn’t the point. This was something she clearly felt she needed to be doing, her own way of dealing with the fact that Sloane was missing. No one respected that more than me, and I supported anything she wanted to do. She was my sister just as the boys were my brothers.
But her meeting couldn’t wrap up quickly enough.
The end of it got the boys and me the usual attention, some girls actually crying. They were apparently overcome with emotion regarding Sloane’s absence.
“I can’t imagine what you’re going through,” one of the chicks said to me, the one crying. She rubbed her nose. “You and Wolf? Will he be back to school anytime soon?”
I got that one a lot, girls offering to swing by and bring our buddy cookies.
And other things.
They weren’t shy about asking me to pass the message regarding their company along, and the last time one had suggested it, I really did almost lose my shit.
Bow had had to intercede.
She did the same today, telling the girl she’d see her tonight. I guess they were doing another search this evening, Murphy’s Park from what it sounded like. That was the last place I wanted to be, some history there, history with Sloane and Bru.
I simply directed my gaze frontward as Bow guided the chick away. Thatcher’s sister had her arms full of flyers, and the guys and I helped her get the rest of them off the table.
