Page 11 of Pieces of Me

Rylan bit his lip. “I hope that won’t happen,” he whispered. “But since I don’t have a dog in that hunt―that’s between them―I’ll be on your side. Okay?” At those words, he was rewarded with a genuine, devastating smile, and the beauty of it punched Rylan right in the gut, leaving him almost breathless.

Scott didn’t say anything more, just grasped Rylan’s wrist with warm, strong fingers, turning it over so he could see Rylan’s watch. “They should be done screwin’ by now,” he said, letting go of him, leaving a path of tingles shooting up Rylan’s arm. “Let’s go home.”

✩✩✩

Scott lay in his bed, arms behind his head, the lights off. Rylan had finally settled down in his futon across the room after much rustling around and pillow punching. Now his quiet, rhythmic breathing filled the room, and instead of annoying Scott with its intrusiveness, it…soothed him.

He pushed up to his elbow and peeped over at Rylan, not able to see much except a shapeless lump under a quilt, until the clunky old AC unit outside their window lumbered to life, disturbing Rylan’s sleep. He rolled to his back, and a shaft of moonlight fell across his face, illuminating it.

Nothin’ special, Scott thought. Mousy brown hair, nondescript blue eyes…instantly forgettable. When he was wearing his thin, wire-rimmed glasses, he looked about twelve years old. Yet Rylan had a core of integrity and strength about him that Scott found himself instinctively drawn to, and that’s the only thing that could explain his uncharacteristic oversharing earlier. He winced, thinking about how he’d verbally spewed all over this kid at Donna’s place, telling him things he’d never told another living soul.

I’m on your side.

Remembering those words, as if Rylan had read Scott’s thoughts about the same thing from earlier, made warmth course through Scott and he smiled. Rylan had said them with such sincerity and openness. The smile faded. Bob and Heather were doomed; Scott knew that without a doubt. The dude had a job that would take him away for weeks at a time, and Heather’s fidelity and loyalty could be measured in days, not weeks. Heartache awaited, and Scott knew better than to get attached, as much as he wanted to take Rylan up on his offer of seemingly unconditional friendship.

Scott watched Rylan sleep. His new stepbrother…his gay stepbrother. Jesus. The kid might look like a mouse, but he had huge balls if he was going to live out and proud in this buckle of the Bible Belt. Wonder how long it would take the proselytizers at the local Christian college to hear and show up on their doorstep, trying to save all their souls. Ha. That could be quite entertaining.

Make me your friend. I’m on your side.

Scott’s eyes burned with unshed tears. Could he let himself enjoy Rylan’s loyalty and friendship, as unearned as it was, for the short period of time it would last? Until the toxic Ashworths chewed up the unsuspecting Mahoneys and spit them out like pieces of stale gum?

Scott flipped on his side and pulled his covers up to his neck.

He would enjoy it. For as long as it lasted.

CHAPTER 3

“Hey, baby!”

A horn honked as a shiny little Mazda Miata convertible crunched to a halt, spraying gravel everywhere. Scott grinned at Lisa, who was behind the wheel, and leapt lightly over the door right into the passenger seat. She gunned it, and they roared off, leaving Rylan standing there at the edge of the dirt road, now covered in dust.

He stared after the departing car in disbelief and turned as another vehicle rumbled toward him. The school bus stopped with a groan and a hiss of exhaust, and the doors swung open. The driver grinned at him, his teeth white in his dark face.

“Come aboard, son,” he boomed. “One-way trip to Pace High, right here!”

Rylan swallowed and climbed the steps. His heart sank when he saw every seat appeared to be taken. The faces staring back at him were sullen, disinterested, and with no other choice, Rylan started moving toward the back, swiveling his head, looking for an empty seat. God, he hated to be the―

“New kid.” Someone made the words a mocking cough behind their hand, and there were some sniggers. Rylan could feel himself flushing, anger at Scott for abandoning him shooting through him.

The bus started up with a jerk, causing Rylan to stumble and drop the Pop-Tart wrapped in a napkin that he was holding. Before he could pick it up, a foot shot out and kicked it away.

He gave up on the pastry and clutched the back of the seats as the bus lurched down the rough gravel road. His eyes lit on a half-empty seat, the lone occupant pressed up against the window. Rylan staggered the few rows back, then stopped next to the vacancy.

“Can I sit here?” he asked, and the kid lifted one shoulder in a shrug. Rylan took that for assent and plopped down, blowing out a huge breath. “Thanks,” he said, looking over at his seatmate. The girl had short-cropped hair, cut close to her head in a boy-style cut, and she wore an oversized flannel shirt and a pair of loose jeans. Rylan could see the ribbed fabric of a wifebeater underneath the shirt.

Her hands rested on her thighs, and her fingernails were ragged, chewed to the quick.

“I’m Rylan,” he said in what he hoped was a friendly tone, and she glanced at him but didn’t say anything. After a few minutes, Rylan gave up trying to make conversation, and the rest of the bus ride was made in silence, desultory chatter from the rest of the kids a dull roar around them.

When they finally pulled up in front of the school, Rylan stood and let the girl out ahead of him. She didn’t acknowledge him in the least, and as she walked ahead of him, another kid bumped her hard with his shoulder, sending her staggering.

“Watch it, dyke,” the kid said, putting his hand between her shoulder blades and shoving her harder.

“Don’t touch it, Tony. You’ll get ‘it’ germs.”

The taunting continued as the girl made her way to the bus door, jumped down the steps, and disappeared. Rylan shook his head as he followed, alighting on the sidewalk and looking around, wondering where the office was. Scott appeared at his elbow.

“Sorry to abandon you back there, Ry,” he said with an easy grin. “Couldn’t turn down a ride with a pretty girl.” He looked so engaging, so handsome, his eyes such a vivid sparkling green that Rylan couldn’t help but smile back, residual anger melting away.