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I should. I really should. That would make me a responsible friend, but the guilt that swirls in my gut keeps my mouth glued shut. Shiloh called last night while I was with Blair, and I had to lie and tell him that I was still at Ryder’s. It’s the second night in a row I’ve lied to him and given him some excuse why I was so late getting in.
He’s been passive-aggressively making jabs about it all day, so I caved and agreed to go out with him tonight.
Shiloh stops in front of an old, abandoned building with most of its windows shattered, doors ripped off the hinges and covered in graffiti. There’s an orange flicker just past the empty entryway, and I only panic for half a second before I see the waste barrel surrounding it.
“We here to sing Kumbaya in front of the fire?”
Shiloh’s lips twitch into a smile, and he jerks his thumb towards the entrance before lacing his fingers behind his head. “Visiting some friends. Maybe you’ll catch a familiar face.”
The inside isn’t in any better condition than the outside, and I think the realtor must have given up on the place ages ago for it to be let go this poorly. They’ve got one hell of a fire going, kindling halfway up the can and flame licking just above the top. There’s two people sitting in a pair of hideously puke green lawn chairs, and when one looks up, I recognize those green eyes from the last party.
“Vulture.”
She pulls down the mask covering her mouth and grins, sending me a two fingered salute. “Hiya, Atlas.” Her hair is pulled up into these spiky little pigtails, and she’s got a baseball bat tucked into her lap.
Beside her is a dark haired boy also in a mask with his hair pulled back in a low ponytail and dark, dagger eyes directed at both Shiloh and me.
Vulture stands, swinging the bat onto her shoulder. “Boys! This is my twin brother, Valco. Valco, my party buddy, Shiloh and his friend, Atlas.”
The brother doesn’t stand, just gives us both a nod and pulls his own mask down to bring a beer bottle to his lips. “Looks like great company, Vult.”
It feels like I should find that offensive, but Shiloh bursts out laughing and crosses over to them, kicking the guys legs down from where they’re propped on the top of the barrel inches from the flame. Valco raises a brow, but doesn’t speak up.
“What’s with the Harley Quinn burglar look y’all got going on?” Shiloh asks, throwing an arm around Vulture’s shoulder and smacking a wet kiss to her cheek. “Lookin’ badass by the way.”
“Thank you,” she beams, bouncing on her toes. “Valco and I were doing a photoshoot for this competition. Local band is holding a contest for their next music video. They give us the song, and we shoot a thirty second demo. Valco came up with the idea, and I put all the visuals together. Photography and Videography might not be the best, but the heart is there.”
“Hey,” I cut in. “If you’ve still got time, I can see if my brother might be able to come around and help you with a reshoot. Found out he’s taken up photography recently.”
Shiloh’s mouth pulls into a humored grin, and he takes a swig of the beer Valco passes to him. Vulture lets the bat clatter to the floor and claps her hands with a loud smack.
“Absolutely! You think he’d be up for it?”
I shrug. “No idea, honestly. But he needs out of that ratty apartment anyway.”
When I’m offered one of the lukewarm beers, I take it, but since I’m the designated driver of the Jeep parked a block away at one of the local diners—where Shiloh knows we’ll need to grab a bite before heading back to the dorms—I barely drink any of it.
Shiloh and Vulture chase each other around the big, empty space, and the way they roll around on the floor laughing reminds me of wrestling in the grass and hiding out in our sleeping bags in the empty lot at the back of the trailer park to see how long it would take until one of our brothers noticed we were gone.
Valco doesn’t join in, and as we sit there watching the two of them, I’m suddenly struck with a burning curiosity of when I went from the person roughing it alongside Shiloh to the person keeping an eye from the sidelines: keeping him safe.
When Shiloh bounds up to me a few minutes later, winding his arms around my neck and dropping into my lap, I know that whatever words are about to come out of his mouth, my response is going to be a thousand times yes, so maybe this canyon I feel opening up will sew itself closed.
“I dare you,” he says on a breathless laugh, dropping his mouth to my ear. “I dare you to come rollerblading with me.”
“With what skates, hot stuff?” I ask, and he scrunches his nose and pushes at my chest. “What? Don’t get mad at me for being logical.”
“Well, stop,” he says with a pout. “Shove your logic up your ass and be fun with me. They’re the twins’. Vulture is letting me borrow hers, and we could probably squeeze you into Valco’s.”
Yeah, the two of them aren’t all that different in size, and I have a feeling I’m a couple shoe sizes too big for either of their skates.
“How about this?” I pat Shiloh’s hips, and he leans back to glare at me. “Why don’t you and Vulture race around the empty beer and soda cans, and I’ll referee for you?”
“Buzzkill,” he mutters but pushes off my lap. I’ve watched him down two beers, but he’s taking it easy on his third, and all the exercise will hopefully keep him from going too far down the hangover rabbit hole.
I used to be just as fun as Shiloh is, but somewhere along the way since we started college, I’ve become a bystander. I still play his dares, and we give each other hell when it’s just the two of us, but I can’t seem to stop myself from going into protector mode any time we’re out like this.
“So what’s the deal with you two?” It’s the first time so far tonight Valco has spoken to me, and I’m so wrapped up in my thoughts I almost don’t hear him.
