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CHAPTER6
ZEKE
I standin my underwear in front of my closet, staring at the long row of primarily band t-shirts and a stack of jeans on the top shelf. It has never taken me this long to choose something to wear.
Water clings to my hair and drips to my nose, tickling as it goes. I scrub my face and hair, shaking the droplets off like a dog, and yank a black shirt from its hanger and slip it on. I go through three pairs of jeans before I find one without grease stains, and the whole time I keep reminding myself why I’m doing this.
All Nova and I are doing is figuring out how to manage this baby situation. My shoulders tense up at the thought, a shock driving through my system every time I hear or think the wordbaby.
Just listen, I remind myself as I put my hoodie on. That’s what Xan told me to do. Listen.
I jog down the steps from my room in the attic pausing in the hall in front of Mom’s room. She’s sitting in her chair reading the Bible as she does every day. I think about telling her, but emotionally I’m not prepared for that. Telling Xan wasn’t hard, but the rest of my family? I swallow hard to push down the nerves and continue to the main floor.
Tabby looks at me from her place on the couch. A place she hasn’t moved from much since my brother Jethro picked up her ex-boyfriend by his neck and folded him into his car like origami just over a week ago.
Jet has a nasty temper. Worse than Jason’s, for sure, but Jet’s not a piece of shit like our father.
“Where you off to, wearing clean jeans?”
Tabby hits pause on her movie, and I lean over the back of the couch to give her a big hug. We’re not much of a hugging family, but we all hug Tab. We always have. Sometimes I try to think back and figure out why, but I always come up with nothing. It’s like lots of things around here—just something we do.
“Meeting up with a friend.” I straighten up quickly and sidestep toward the door.
“A friend?” She smirks and nudges her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
“Yeah.” I nod at the screen. “Go easy on the romcom injection, okay? That shit is like heroin for you.”
I worry about my little sister—the way she collapses in on herself and spends days lying on the couch watching these movies, crying over Lyle, who deserved to be threatened within an inch of his life if he ever came back here. I wish I’d had the balls to kick his ass like Jet did. I fight more with humour and sarcasm.
Tabby and I have been in more arguments about her douche ex than anything else. We need her to hold on until Christmas. Then, she’s free. After summer school, she deferred her college start until January. There’s a hitch in my chest at the thought.
Tabby is the only one on track to get the fuck out of this place. To break the Stryker chain. The rest of us? We’re lifers.
There’s a stab of pain deep inside at the thought of her leaving Raston. She’s my best friend, but this town is toxic for her.
“You and thisfriendaren’t doing anything dumb, are you?” Tabby’s voice breaks through my thoughts.
“What? No.” I register the weird smile she has on, and it’s clear she’s on to me. “Just hanging out.”
“With a friend,” she reiterates, and I grunt at her.
Tabby is too empathic, so I don’t give her any time to press me for more. I’m out the door and in my truck in moments, my nerves revved up like the engine.
Nova’s already at the diner when I arrive. She’s seated in the farthest booth from the door, tucked in the back corner. That’s the action booth—the one that’s hidden from the rest of the place. With the curved seat, you could fit a pile of kids in there, and I wouldn’t be surprised if every kid in Raston had their first kiss right in that spot.
I did.
There were a lot less wholesome things that went on in that booth, too. That is a fact. The first time I ever finger-banged a girl was in that booth. A girl here for the summer had sparked chaos in Raston because all the boys wanted her, and all the girls hated her. I remember her grabbing my hand under the table and shoving it down her pants.
Jesus, Zeke, I scold myself and shake all the memories from my mind.
I jam my hands in my hoodie pocket, and a wave of discomfort hits me at the same time as her gaze. She shifts in her seat and smiles, but tiredness clings to her features like she hasn’t slept in days. Shit, I never even thought about that side of it.
At this moment, I realize I don’t know fuck all about pregnancy and what it does to a body. She’s growing a person, and she’s been entirely on her own. Guilt washes over me—like I should have sensed it or something. But that’s ridiculous.
It would have been impossible to figure that out. Nova never left her number at the shop. She refused to give it to me. Said she’d be back later to pick up the van. At the time, I thought it was mysterious and sexy. Then when she stood me up, I was pissed.
Nova waves me over, and with each step my nerves tie themselves in knots. Parts of me are numb, other parts burning with tension.
