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Chris had no idea what that meant. Did Michael know about what Tyler had said? About the deal? He kept his mouth shut.
Michael glanced over. “You picked a fight in class?”
Christ, this was worse. “The school called you?”
“No. I’m psychic. What the hell is wrong with you? First that crap with Seth and Tyler, and now this?”
Chris felt his hands curl into fists. It wasn’t like he’d laid a hand on Dunleavy—and that was the rule. No contact, no parents. Now he wished he’d just slammed that stupid prick in the face. “I didn’t pick a fight.”
“Chris—”
“I didn’t.”
Michael said nothing for the longest time, and Chris felt his hands start to unknot. He leaned back against the headrest and stared out the window as the trees raced past.
“Then tell me,” Michael said finally.
“They shouldn’t have called you.” Chris picked at the upholstery on the door. “I didn’t even touch him.”
“Why don’t you tell me what you did do?”
“I told him to f**k off.” Chris sighed. “That’s it.”
“Wow, just like that. Middle of class. No provocation at all—”
“God, would you shut up? He was hassling someone, okay?” Chris expected that to launch a new round of interrogation, but Michael looked back at the road and didn’t say anything.
He was thinking, though. Chris could practically feel that.
Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. “All right, what?”
“Was this ‘someone’ a girl?”
This felt like a trap. Chris hesitated and decided not to say anything.
Michael glanced over. “Could it be the girl who dragged you home? The one who conveniently showed up last night?”
Maybe his brother was psychic. “How the hell do you know that?”
“Because I’m not an idiot. I know you helped her get away from me that night.”
Chris scowled and looked at the trees again.
“Stay away from her, Chris.”
“Jesus, could you sound more dramatic? I already told you, she’s got nothing to do with Tyler. She’s just a girl in my class.”
“Average girls don’t jump into the middle of a fight between three guys. Stay away from her.”
Like it mattered. “Fine.”
They drove in silence for a mile, both staring through the windshield at nothing.
“Look,” said Michael, and his voice was low, quiet. “Even if she’s an average girl—you don’t have the control for a relationship, Chris.”
“I’m not in a relationship!” God, he should be so lucky. He’d give his left arm for someone outside this family to talk to. Chris rounded on him. “Besides, don’t you think maybe you should be having this talk with Gabriel, who might actually be screwing half the cheer squad right now, or Nick, who has to beat girls off with a stick?”
Michael hit the turn signal to pull into the driveway. The twins were tossing a basketball at the hoop over the garage. “They don’t worry me.”
