My concoction wasn’t just good, it was fucking delicious. Even Melody agreed, and she doesn’t have a fascination with peanut butter like I do.
I love peanut butter. Not quite as much as the pleading look Melody is giving me, but it’s an unhealthy relationship no matter how much I sugarcoat it.
Excitement tap dances through my veins when a brilliant idea pops into my head. “While you hang out with your friends, I will get a head start on our study session. That way, we might be able to squeeze in a quick movie before your curfew tonight.”
Melody twists on the spot, hoping a touch of innocence will hide the wild child in her eyes dying to break free. With how opposing our personalities are, you wouldn’t think our bond is as unbreakable as it is. “Watching 10 Things I Hate About You for the hundredth time doesn’t sound like a fun way to spend a Saturday night, BJ.”
I usually sign and speak at the same time to ensure everyone around us is included in our conversation, but since I have a set of ears listening that I don’t want, I only sign my reply. Madden knows basic sign language but not enough to understand what I say to Melody. “It will be if we do it snuggled under a blanket while drinking the frozen chocolate and peanut butter milkshakes you are going to bring back from Mary’s.”
Although cautious as to why my lips didn’t move, a zing of excitement still zaps through Melody’s impressive eyes. It’s amazing the safety net that comes with a little bit of coverage. We’re a tad more touchy-feely friends when we’re snuggled under a blanket. I can’t really give our sneaky touches a base range, but I can tell you they’re getting more adventurous as the years move on.
“Okay. I can do that.” Melody soothes the fidgeting movements of her hands before adding, “I will be back in around an hour.”
She looks like she wants to say more but settles for another squeeze of my hand before pivoting on her heels, dashing down the stairs, and jogging across the ground that will soon be dry because of the ghastly heat of summer instead of a freezing winter. We only have two temperature settings here in Saugerties. It’s either boiling hot or freezing cold. There’s no in-between.
Madden waits for Melody to slip in the front passenger seat of her family sedan before howling in hysterics. “Are you fucking kidding me? How long have you been aiming to tap that, yet you still haven’t gotten past first base?” He slaps his knees as tears threaten to spill from his eyes. “Word to the wise, no matter what language she speaks, when a girl squeezes your hand, she wants you to squeeze her ass while riding her hard.”
To ensure I can’t misunderstand what he’s saying, he gropes an invisible ass in front of him before jackknifing his hips on repeat. When he adds horse neighs into the mix, I dump the rag of ice into the freezer, then push off my feet with a shake of my head. “Things aren’t like that with us. We’re friends.”
That hurt to say as much as Madden’s ear-piercing laughter hurts my ears. I want to be more than Melody’s friend. I just haven’t worked out how to officially slide us from friends to lovers without risking our decade-long friendship. What if I’m reading the signs all wrong? And no, I’m not referring to the secret sign language code we made up when we were kids.
What if she only likes teasingly touching me because it’s a secret? There’s a lot of excitement attached to doing something you’re not supposed to, and when you’ve been sheltered as much as Melody has, I’m certain it’s even more appealing.
Madden follows me into our country style kitchen before asking a question he’s asked a minimum of once a month for the past three years. “Are you gay?”
My heart rate jumps as high as my voice. “No!”
“Then what’s the issue?” He props his hip onto the counter before plucking a handful of grapes out of the fruit bowl. For someone in the process of having a sexual assault case investigated by our father, he looks way too smug for my liking. His cockiness isn’t unusual, but it’s annoying as hell. “If you’re not gay, and she’s good to go, why haven’t you fucked her yet? She was practically begging for you to do her on the porch.”
The throb of my pulse is heard in my reply. “Because I respect her too much to disrespect her like that.”
Madden’s boisterous laugh awards me the glare of my father. I don’t know why he’s glaring at me, I’m not the one chuckling like a hyena, but no matter how far I step away from Madden with my hands held in the air, pleading innocence, our father’s eyes remain rapt on me.
When subjected to undeserving anger, my mood gets sappy. “Do you need a reminder on what that call is about?” I motion our head to our father who’s on the phone in the den. “If you had respected Annie, our father wouldn’t be once again sporting his defense attorney cap.”
“Whatever! I gave Annie what she wanted.” He grabs at his crotch like he’s about to star in a new hip-hop music video. “She’s just disappointed she didn’t get this.” He steps up to me, chest to chest. “Just like you won’t be craving kiddie milkshakes after Melody milks your dick of your spawn.” He knocks me with his shoulder, ensuring I’m aware he noticed the pulse in my jaw before snickering. “You better hurry. If you wait too long, she’ll move onto a guy who isn’t nervous about giving her what she wants.”
You have no clue how hard it is for me not to respond to the daring glint in his eyes. My fists are clenched at my side, and my nostrils are flaring, but Mr. Gregg’s constant reassurance that bullying is the highest form of flattery keeps my hands at my side and my words in my throat.
Only those below you try and force you to stoop to their level.
Madden is my brother, so I’d like to believe if worse came to worst, he’d have my back as I’d have his, but none of that matters when it comes to Melody. I pledged to protect her before I even knew what the word meant.
I plan to keep my promise.
My intense stare-down with Madden ends when our father tosses his cell phone onto the dining room table on our right. After straightening his tie and suit jacket, he thrusts a hand at the stairwell. “Go to your room.”
I return his stare, confident he’s looking at the wrong son. When my stare doubles the pulse in his jaw, I splatter out, “Why am I being sent to my room? I didn’t do anything wrong. Madden is the one —”
“Now, Brandon!” He steps up to me like Madden did, except he doesn’t keep his hands balled at his side. He raises one high into the air, ensuring it has plenty of leverage if I dare to argue with him.
As hot breaths pump out of my nose, I march toward the stairwell. My stomps are extra firm with annoyance, but no amount of hullabaloo stops me from hearing Madden growl. “Fuck this. I’m out. If a few hours of being grounded in my room saves me from being lectured, I’ll take it.”
Our father’s roar rumbles through my chest. “Sit down, Madden!” Things must be severe because he only ever uses our full names when we’re in deep shit.
When I reach the landing in the middle of the L-shaped stairs, I crank my neck in just enough time to see my father forcefully shove Madden into a dining room chair. My Adam’s apple bobs up and down in sync with Madden’s when our father gets up right into Madden’s face and snarls, “Because after what I just lost to keep your ass out of jail, you’re sure as fuck going to get more than a lecture.”
5
