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“Fuck you, Chris,” Tyler grumbles.
Chris sits down on the metal bench with his legs on either side, grabbing a towel to dry off the sweat from his back and chest. “I’m messing with you, brother. What’s up?”
I walk around to make sure no one is inside who can overhear our conversation. Once the coast is clear, I walk back and lean against the pillar. “Alright, spill.”
Chris slides his fingers through his hair that’s full of sweat from his sloppy training sesh, and lets out a puff of air. “Man, all I know is I want to kill my father right now. I can’t stand to look at him.”
I quirk a brow. What the fuck is he talking about? Stephen Murray is a stand-up guy. Everyone likes him, including my father, and that is saying something. My father is a pain in the ass and doesn’t have many friends outside of business. Chris and Tyler’s father are basically the only ones he would trust. There is nothing that man could do that could have Tyler feeling this way.
“Fuck, man, I have a sister and we are like three months apart, ” Chris blurts, raising his head to the ceiling in frustration.
Okay. I take that back. Stephen Murray has some explaining to do.
“What the epic fuck?” Chris bellows. “Are you serious?”
Tyler nods, confirming what we are hearing. What we are all assuming, that he cheated on his mother Caroline.
I pinch the bridge of my nose with my taped fingers, not believing this shit. “Okay. Now what?” I ask with my eyes closed, picturing Tyler with a sister.
He faces the wall and places his forehead against it. “I have to meet her at the house tonight. You guys cannot show up under any circumstances. Apparently, my father had a thing with her mother before he met my mother. Her mother was supposed to move back to Colombia or some shit, but never did, obviously.”
“Why?” Chris asks.
I was about to ask the same thing. Why did he let her move back if she fell pregnant? Why didn’t he say anything to his mother or to Tyler until now?
“According to my father, the lady wanted U.S. citizenship and was trying to get my father to marry her for papers when he just got out of college. She saw my father as a meal ticket, and when he found out what her motive was, he told her to fuck off and go back to Colombia. She was supposed to terminate the pregnancy and go back before my father threatened her with Immigration. In my father’s mind, he thought she had the abortion. She even assured him that it was terminated.”
“Damn, what a bitch. She actually got knocked up on purpose to stay in the U.S.?”
Tyler pushes away from the wall and turns to face us. “Yeah, man. That’s the story. If it’s entirely true or not…” He shrugs his shoulders and grabs a clean towel from the shelf and throws me one, “I wouldn’t know for sure. All I know is the chick has been through some serious shit.”
“What kind of shit?”
Not that I give a rat’s ass, but I’m curious.
“Foster care, juvenile detention is what my father said, and that is just skimming the surface. She’s a handful and not easy to deal with according to him. He wants to do the right thing by taking her in until she figures shit out. She was dealt a rough hand. She got into some trouble, so she has to stay with us until she graduates high school as part of a sentence the court gave her.”
“Damn, dude. She sounds like she’s pretty hardcore,” Chris says. “I can’t wait to meet her,” he adds sarcastically.
“Whatever you need, brother. You know we got you,” I chime in. “It sounds like her crimes weren’t all that bad if she went to baby jail.”
Tyler sighs. “I don’t care about her. I care about how my mom is taking it. In my eyes, I’m an only child. I don’t have siblings. The people I call my brothers are you two assholes.”
I smile. “Damn, right. Fuck her. She’s probably just like her mother and sees a meal ticket and is hoping to cash in on it.”
“I agree,” Chris says.
“I think so, too. She’s obviously going to our school for our senior year. Let’s make sure she gets the Westlake Prep welcome.”
But wait…if they’re three months apart, it means she starts her senior year at West Lake Prep, and we have to deal with her until the end of the year. In other words, let’s make sure she knows her place. Chris, Tyler, and I rule West Lake Prep. Not even the football players fuck with us because they know we will kick their ass. Wrestlers, either. They know better. We might be considered bullies, but we are much more than that. We don’t let anyone fuck with us. Whatever we say goes, everyone else falls in line. We aren’t some preppy rich kids who get good grades and only go to second base with girls. We are the guys their fathers warn them about who fuck them when no one is watching. The most important part is that they like it.
The girls call us the Gods of WestLake Prep. We are more like the sinners with a fat bank account and too much power passed down from our families. We aren’t the goods kids. I know I’m not. Right now, we have an intruder. Someone trying to fuck up our dynamic. Our boys’ dynamic.
Good thing for Tyler, I don’t have a soft spot for females. I fuck ’em and leave ’em, and if they try to fuck me back, I destroy them. One time is all you get unless I say so—and the second time is just on their knees. Chris sees things the same way I do. Tyler is the lesser evil because he still has his mother around. Chris only has his sister, Abby, who is the only exception. The only reason none of us has touched her is because of the bro code and all that.
I could only imagine what Tyler is going through right now with his father. A long-lost sister suddenly showing up and not knowing he knocked up a chick right when he met his mom. And then didn’t say anything about the woman, or that it was remotely possible that he had a bastard kid in the world. I would be pissed at my father, and let’s not talk about the trust issues that stem from finding out a dirty little secret like that this late in the game. She’s practically an adult. A complete stranger.
“How’s your mom taking it?” I ask.
