Page 64 of Worse Than Enemies


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Turns out it’s only Charlotte coming in with what looks like a shopping list in one hand. “Good morning. Can I make breakfast for you?”

“That would be great. You don’t have to go to any trouble though.” I pull out my phone and scroll TikTok while waiting, absently answering Charlotte’s pleasant questions. It’s kind of nice. Peaceful.

Until there’s another set of footsteps.

“Good morning.” Hayes looks around, confused. “Where is everybody?” he barks out.

“They didn’t tell you?” I point at the note on the fridge, which Hayes reads with his back to me.

Then he turns around, grinning from ear to ear. “So the house is ours.”

Charlotte shakes her head, chuckling softly. “No parties. You know the rules.”

“What Dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Hayes pours himself a glass of juice, still smiling. “This could end up being a better weekend than I expected.”

I can never tell if he’s being serious or not, so I say, “You know I wouldn’t tell, but what about Lucy and Bridget? You’d have to pay them off to keep them quiet.”

He only laughs. It’s the most genuine laughter I’ve ever heard from him, except maybe when he has his brief little chats with my sister.

“Lucy is easy,” I say. “Take her out for ice cream and she’s yours. But Bridget? That would be a tough one.”

He meets my gaze over the rim of his glass and snickers. “I’m kidding. I know better.”

He joins me at the island, straddling a stool. He drums on the countertop with his fingers, and I almost wonder if he’s taking some of those pills Salem was on. He’s bright, happy, upbeat. The opposite of what I’ve come to expect.

Once we’re alone, with Charlotte leaving to go to the store for supplies, the energy in the room shifts.

“I guess they’ll be back before Theo’s Halloween party on Tuesday night,” I offer. “Are you going to sneak out?”

“Are you going to tattle on me?” he counters with a nasty little grin.

“No. I was hoping maybe I could stay over at Salem’s as an excuse not to be home.”

“What a genius plan,” he mutters. Why do I even bother talking to him?

As usual, he changes topics fast enough to give me whiplash. “So, what are you doing today?” he asks while buttering a piece of toast. For an athlete, he really slaps it on. I guess he can afford the calories.

“Since when do you care what I do on the weekend?”

“I was just wondering if you had plans.” He’s looking at his plate, so I can’t quite check his face to see if he’s serious or not.

“I don’t know. Every time I go anywhere, somebody ends up ruining things.”

“You know what? You’re right.”

I almost choke on my eggs. “Seriously?”

“I’m just saying. I’ve been a real piece of shit.” I’m not going to argue with that. “Maybe I need to, like, make a peace offering.”

“That would be a good start. What are you planning to do?”

Instead of answering right away, he pulls out his phone and taps a message to somebody. “I have to start by making things right with Franky. This is longer than we’ve ever been on the outs.”

A few moments later, his phone buzzes. I watch out of the corner of my eye and see him smile. “Great. You’re on this afternoon.”

“I’m on what?”

“You have a date with Franky later on.”

“Wait. What?”

“I told him you want to go out, but you were too shy to say anything.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Seems I just did.”

“But I’m not something you can use to barter. You don’t own me.”

“You said you would do anything, didn’t you?”

I know exactly what he means. “That was in the car when I thought you were trying to kill us.”

“So you’re taking it back? Because, you know, I still have this picture of you on my phone...”

He’s got me where he wants me. I don’t know why I bother fighting the inevitable. “Fine. What time?”

It’s weird being one-on-one with Franky. Usually we’re around other people, in a group. I don’t know what to say after I get in the car, and we ride off only a few hours after the text from Hayes.

What does Franky expect is going to happen? He accepted the idea of us coming out together pretty fast, which makes me wonder again if he likes me more than I like him. I don’t want to end up hurting anybody’s feelings.

“They’re doing a double feature at the drive-in, old horror movies from the 80s. Friday the 13th and A Nightmare on Elm Street.” He shoots me a grin. “What do you think?”

“That sounds great.” It’s a gray, gloomy day, so hanging out and watching horror movies sounds kind of perfect. Especially this time of year, with Halloween around the corner. “I love horror movies.”

“Me too. I figured maybe we could go out for something to eat after.” He chuckles ruefully. “This is weird, isn’t it?”

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