Page 9 of The Wicker King

“Thank you, August,” she said in her curiously deep voice.

“No problem,” he replied, sounding cooler than he felt.

She pinched his cheek lightly. “You’re such a good boy.”

THRUSH

August snuck away from school during lunch and walked to the bank. He liked this new teller a lot more than the one who’d worked there last year. This one smiled politely when she saw him and never asked any questions—like why he wasn’t at school or where all of this money was coming from. She didn’t ask why he was coming to pay the bills instead of his mom. And she didn’t make a face when he came in with a disability check or a check with his father’s name on it.

She just processed his transaction, just like she would for any other customer.

He tossed what he’d earned this week from Daliah on the counter, and the teller collected it. She gave him a printout of his family’s accounts and told him to have a nice day. Like a super-polite automaton. Like she didn’t care who he was.

And God, like every single time, he breathed a sigh of relief.

ROMULUS

“I haven’t seen Dad in a week and Mom’s away on business,” Jack said as they walked into August’s house.

“Fine. Let me tell my mom you’re here. MOM!” August called down the stairs to the basement. “JACK’S OVER!”

“WHAT?” she called back.

“NEVER MIND, DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT. I’LL TAKE CARE OF IT.” He turned to Jack and pushed him toward the bathroom. “Go take a cold bath. I’ll fix you something to eat.”

A half hour and one boiled can of soup later, August went up to his room to fork over the goods and found Jack curled in his bed almost against the wall, dressed in his clothes.

“Oh my God. Get out of my bed. I’ll blow up the air mattress or something,” he griped, setting the bowl down hard on his nightstand.

“I’ve done worse. There’s plenty of room,” Jack said, muffled by the comforter. “Just get in.”

August did, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. “This is the gayest thing I’ve ever done,” he said darkly.

Jack snorted. “No. It’s not. Remember in fourth grade, when Danny Sader let you—”

“I will literally throw you out the window.”

Jack sniffled. August handed him a tissue and waited for him to finish blowing his nose.

“Stob bitchig,” he said quietly. “You’re basically like my brudder. Iss nod a big deal.”

August thought about that awhile. “Yeah,” he finally replied, but Jack was already asleep.

GROUP PROJECTS

“… So, I just told Mrs. Peppin that Jeremy didn’t adequately participate in the project and, therefore, he should forfeit a percentage of the credit.”

“Alex,” August groaned, “you can’t just say a guy doesn’t do work because he’s stupid and what he contributed wasn’t up to your caliber.”

“Well, why not?”

“Because it’s ridiculous!” Gordie interjected. “You’re acting like he didn’t even try.”

“Agreed,” August said, twirling his spaghetti around his spork. “You’ve got to work on being less critical, Alex. One day, you’re going to piss off too many lab partners. They’ll form a mob and burn you at the stake using all the papers you’ve ever aced as kindling.”

Alex snorted in dismissal and continued neatly cutting her pizza with a fork and knife.

The twins furrowed their brows at her in disapproval. Simultaneously.