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“Ahhhhh!” Alex jumped up and launched himself once more, crawling to the top, where he began hitting the top with one hand. We both settled back, knowing we were about to see a repeat.
Cohen grunted. “Clint and Trenton are way better fighters.”
“They’re also better drinkers.”
“I can hear you, you fuckfaces.”
Cohen and I both grinned.
This was what we did for the next two hours.
When Cohen needed to fight, he took the bag.
When Alex needed it, it was his turn.
They offered it to me, but I shook my head. It was my night off, except to chaperone these two, which was what they needed because between the two, they drank almost every bottle that’d been in that box.
There was drunk talk. Drunk cursing. Drunk promises were made, but this night was just about being around each other. We showed up for each other.
After I drove both home, I pulled my phone out.
Scout: Your mom working?
Ramsay: No. It’s a mom night.
Ramsay: How’s Amalia?
Scout: She’ll be okay.
Ramsay: Good.
46
RAMSAY
Things settled over the next few days.
And the rumor mill had stopped talking about me, the article, and Amalia. I had a feeling that everyone was too terrified to gossip about anything because of Theresa’s threat of hackers.
Clint was back on a tear for his own form of vengeance, and he declared it at my locker a few days later.
“I want to go back.”
I shut my locker, saying, “No.”
He glared at me. “You owe me.”
I snorted. “I don’t because I’m saving your life right now.”
“I want to go back.”
He was talking about going to the fraternity house and stealing more alcohol because, in Clint’s mind, of course they wouldn’t be thinking someone would try to steal their stash again. Oh no. They’d have the same setup. They wouldn’t remember us, and we’d be able to waltz right in, crack open the door, lay a conveyor belt and happily and peacefully ship off every piece of alcohol once again.
I was saving his life. “You’re not going.”
He opened his mouth.
I said over him, “And if you do, I will tell your brothers what you’re going to do.”
His mouth closed. “You’re not being cool. It’s about revenge. Vengeance. Come on. He has to pay.”
“Max is not going to pay by you stealing booze from his future brother frat house. Trust me.” I leaned in. “You’re the one who’s going to pay, and it’ll be worse because you’ll be another person he’s taken away from me. Do you want to live with that blood on your hands?”
He was glowering now. “Totally not cool, and you’re overdramatizing.”
“Hmmm. Nope. Not even a little bit. We’re not going back.”
Gem arrived, literally running in and taking a leap to land in between us. “Where are we not going?”
I shot Clint a look. “You’re not going back. I’m aware that in your head you heard Gem said ‘we’ and somehow you’re playing on her words. You’re thinking that since I’m not going, so Gem’s ‘we’ doesn’t count so you’re now thinking ‘I’m going’ as in you are going without me, and you’re not going.”
He frowned.
I flushed. “I do not care if that makes no sense. I just know how you think, and I also know that made total sense to you. You cannot word play your way out of this one.”
Gem was skirting between us, her eyebrows up.
Clint growled before taking off.
“You’re not going to tell me what that’s about, are you?” Gem motioned where Clint went. “Right? It’s like a family thing?”
I was shaking my head as Kira and Ciara came over to us.
“Hey, peeps.” Kira was all smiles.
Ciara was beaming next to her.
Both had color-coordinated their outfits. Kira was in pastel pink, top and skirt. Ciara was in pastel blue. I had a feeling Leanne would be in pastel green? Yellow? One of those.
Gem was gaping at them. “You guys look like Easter.”
Kira fought back a smile. “It’s on purpose because ta-da! We picked our Homecoming theme. Candyland!”
Ciara added, “But sexy.”
“Yes, so you guys know first so you have first dibs at getting your dresses. We’re announcing next week so go this weekend.”
Homecoming.
I was on the planning committee. That meant I had to go.
I hadn’t planned that far ahead, of me going or not going, but crap. My cousins would be expected to be there. They’d have dates. They’d be doing their own thing. I was overthinking all of this.
Gem would want to go.
“That”—Gem was barely breathing—“is awesome! I know we voted last year, but I didn’t know what we picked.”
Both girls’ smiles faded. They shared a look.
“Well, the winner was a write-in where people didn’t want a theme, but we have to do a theme so this was the one we picked.” Kira got all serious. “Don’t tell anyone that, but the theme’s been picked and”—she focused on me—“totally understandable why you skipped our last meeting, but don’t skip this Friday. To keep it secret until next week, we’re meeting at my house before the football game—”
