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I wait until we’re out of range of the other kids before I scold him.
“You should have wished her a Merry Christmas back.”
“Who, Leesha?” He shrugs. “She’s all right.”
“She likes you.”
He’s embarrassed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I know. Not sure I want that whole girlfriend deal yet though.”
“It does come with complexities.”
Frankie laughs. “Like you’d know.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I never see you giving any guy a chance.”
“Well.” That little piece of honesty stuns me a bit. “Maybe that has changed.”
He makes a face. “If it has, don’t tell me about it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to know that some creep’s got his hands on my sister.”
“Aw. That’s kind of sweet in a way. Frankie, will you help me bake cookies this afternoon?”
“Sure, if I can eat the batter.”
We leave the school grounds behind and despite the cold we talk and laugh and take our time on the walk. It’s a nice break from all my Ben angst and I feel lighter than I have all day.
I’m also not looking behind me and the sudden iron grip on my arm is so shocking that I don’t even scream.
“Look who doesn’t have a bodyguard today.” There’s breath on my cheek, sour and hot.
“What the hell?” shouts Frankie before he’s punched in the stomach by Damian McGill. But Frankie jumps right up and tackles him to the ground. They roll into the side yard of the corner house, which has sat vacant since the eighty-year-old owner, Mrs. Harcourt, died in her sleep last year. Since then it’s been broken into on countless occasions for parties or other mischief and no matter how many times they board up the windows and doors there’s always a way inside.
“Leave him alone!” I try to twist away from Alex McGill and yelp with pain when my arm is yanked behind my back and up, to the point where my shoulder feels like it will disconnect.
Alex propels me forward, toward the tumbling mess of Frankie and Damian. A hard shove sends me sprawling and it’s only by chance and a couple of inches that I miss cutting my head open on a rusted abandoned hand trowel. My knees take the brunt of the impact but there’s no time to lick my wounds. Frankie is about to get Damian pinned in a wrestling move when Alex closes in and kicks Frankie in the ribs. Frankie can hold his own in the wrestling ring and would be a match for either one of them alone but he can’t take them both. Not now, not when he’s only fifteen and they’re years older, already the size of grown men.
Frankie’s eyes are wild when they find me. “Get out of here, Camden!” he yells an instant before a fist connects with his jaw.
“STOP!” I fly at them and I don’t know how to fight but I attack with everything I have; fists and kicks and when a hand cups my mouth I bite its fingers.
“Bitch!” Damian releases me with a push.
Alex has got Frankie face down on the ground now, his right arm up twisted all the way up behind his back so that it can be snapped if Alex feels like snapping it.
Frankie screams, “DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE TOUCH MY SISTER!”
Alex is grinning as he looks from one of us to the other. “What kind of freaky shit goes on at your house? She don’t look like your sister.”
“Let him go. Please.” I know I sound pathetic. I could shout for help. If only there were someone who might hear.
The calculating look that sweeps over Alex’s face is hideous. “I’ll let him go.”
I hold my breath, knowing there’s more to come.
