Page 37 of Thrust & Throttle


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“I met them when they were fighting.”

“Who were they fighting? A school yard bully?”

“Each other,” I said with a laugh.

“No…” Waverly’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“What were they fighting about?”

“I don’t even remember at this point. Boys fight all the time for no reason. Savage punched Duke in the eye. Duke busted Savage’s lip. Then they made up and asked me if I wanted to climb a tree with them.”

“All’s well that ends well, huh?”

“Something like that. They came to see you, you know,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“The day you were born.”

“No kidding.”

I shook my head and turned down the street. “They scraped some money together, got on the bus, and came to meet you. The three of us stood at the nursery window and I pointed you out to them, and on that day, they vowed to protect you like big brothers. For life.”

“Wow,” she said quietly. “I had no idea.”

The moment was imprinted forever in my mind. The three of us had stared at the new baby, who didn’t yet know how hard life could be. We were three nine-year-olds honed by the hardships—and the miracles—of life.

“I can count on them in ways I’ve never been able to count on anyone,” I said. “So, when Savage is being an overprotective dick, or Duke teases you, just know—”

“That I’m an ungrateful shit because they’re gonna catch me if I fuck up?”

I didn’t bother correcting her language, because what was the point?

“Yeah, exactly.”

I pulled into O’Reilly’s parking lot. Duke and Savage’s motorcycles were parked underneath a big shady tree. It was the spring, and the leaves were green and ripe. The heat of summer hadn’t hit yet, but it was only a matter of time. That was the thing about Texas. One minute it was hot, the next minute it was…hotter.

Duke and Savage were sitting in a booth in the back. Four waters had already been ordered and were on the table. I slid into the seat next to Savage, across from Duke, who frowned.

Waverly plopped down next to Duke and reached for a straw.

“Wow, we’re at O’Reilly’s before 11 a.m., except this time it isn’t because we were out all night binge drinking,” Savage quipped.

I elbowed him in the ribs.

Waverly rolled her eyes. “Relax. I know you guys drink.”

“Waverly got suspended,” I announced. “Again.”

“What did our Little Punk do this time?” Savage drawled.

“I punched the captain of the football team in his fat mouth for calling Willa a slut.” Silence descended on the table. “Can I get a soda? I need some caffeine.”

“He called Willa a slut?” Duke asked, his voice suddenly dangerously low.

Waverly nodded. “Among other things.”

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