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“To my truck,” I say, and she falls in step with me.
“So how long are you planning on staying?” she asks like a left hook I’m not expecting. I take some time to think about her question.
“I’m not going to take her away from Xan,” I answer and Del scowls.
“That’s not what I was asking,” she defends herself like only Del can. Always on the defense.
“Isn’t it?” I challenge her and a flash of anger burns like alcohol in a pan but it’s out as fast as it flares up. The question is passive aggressive, and I know passive aggressive. I speak it fluently. She wants to know if I’m going to bolt and take Millie with me never to return to Raston again.
Admittedly, it’s tempting.
The thought of staying forever makes my body go cold and stiff and my heart beat wildly like an animal caught in a trap.
“It’s going to take a while for me to get the house ready for sale. My dad’s in a cast for six more weeks then has rehab. There’s a lot to do. I’ll be here for the summer for sure. And of course, Xan will be consulted before I make any decisions. I’m just trying to get through a day at a time.”
Del seems content with my answer but her expression twists into one of shock. I follow her gaze to my dad’s truck. Scrawled across the windshield in thick red letters it says: FUCK YOU LYING BITCH
The only thing working on my body is my eyelids, because blinking is all I manage to do.
“Well, that’s rude,” Del says but I only blink in response. Her full red lips pout in disappointment. A red stain on the bottom of her shirt.
“What the fuck?” Xan’s voice sounds and I jump clear out of my skin. “Who did this?”
Xan spins in a circle, his shoulders tense and ready to lash out.
“Someone probably isn’t happy I’m back in town,” I finally said, finding my voice and Xan’s still scanning the surroundings, those absorbent eyes taking in every detail. I frantically look around. If I’ve been found again, then I’ll have to leave. Please let this be an old high school mean girl or one of the mom’s who’ve been staring at me and whispering all practice.
“This is a kids baseball practice,” Xan continues, suddenly zeroing in on Del.
He grabs her shirt pointing to the stain. “What’s this?”
“Xan,” I start, falling back into the same space I occupied as a teenager. Saving Xan from himself. “Don’t.”
Del takes a moment before the accusation settles and she yanks her shirt back. “Screw you, dude. I didn’t do that.”
“It’s something you’ve done before,” he says, and the siblings square off and desperation fills me to the brink. I step between them, forcing distance.
“You guys. Don’t let Millie see you do this.” A sweep of our surrounds shows us completely alone. No one has noticed.
Del fishes through her bag and throws the tube of sticky red lip gloss at her brother.
“It’s not even the same color.” She stomps off down the road and I scoop up the tube. It was liquid, not a stick and the tiny little applicator would have taken thirty years for her to do it.
“She didn’t do it, Xan.” I say, not bothering to hide my disappointment. Obviously, his hero complex is still going strong. Maybe even stronger than it was as kids.
I hold the lipstick up to the windshield. “It’s not the same color.”
Xan flickers between the tube and the words, his jaw tight and his hands shoved deep in his pockets. “It looks like the same color to me.”
I roll my eyes at him and yank open the door to the truck.
“You’re not going anywhere, Briggs.” He grips the door to stop me from closing it.
Anger flares through my whole body, setting me alight with fury. I slip down from the truck, put both hands on his chest and shove him backward. He stumbles slightly and his features twist in shock.
“Listen to me,” I start, jabbing him in the chest with my finger. “I’m not sixteen anymore. This shit doesn’t fly. You will never speak to me like that ever again, understood?”
His cheeks flush and the anger vanishes from his eyes. He appears shamed and sheepish, but I don’t let up.
